2-in-1

by Kira Chase

  “Sounds almost like a small studio apartment.” Frankie parked the car and turned off the ignition. “McHenry said she’s typically gone for hours at a time.”

  “He also said besides visiting a ‘friend’, she tells him she’s going to Riley’s Gym for a workout,” Johanna interjected.

  Frankie lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I’ll bet she’s getting a workout all right.” She took a pen flashlight and shined it on her notes. “We should talk to the manager of Riley’s Gym to see if she does indeed go there. They’d have a record if she has a membership.”

  “She could just be telling McHenry that.”

  “Why? I mean if she wanted out of her marriage, why not get a divorce? She’s rich. And face it; he’s old enough to be her father. He’s not very good looking either.” She made a face. “Maybe she’s getting a little from some hot stud to fortify herself before climbing into bed with him every night.”

  Johanna was thoughtful for a minute. “Could be. Maybe she doesn’t want the publicity and cost of a messy divorce. So she has a fling with no strings attached.”

  A door two spaces from where they were parked opened. Cassandra slipped outside. Frankie and Johanna scrunched down in their seats. Johanna angled the camera and snapped a picture before Cassandra turned and disappeared around the building. Frankie pushed the button on her wristwatch and checked the time.

  “She parks out front when it would make more sense for her to park back here where no one can see her car. Face it, a Porsche is going to stand out in a place like this.”

  “If she’s hiding her whereabouts she’s not doing a very good job of it,” Johanna said.

  “She’s only been in there a little over fifteen minutes. Talk about a quickie.”

  Johanna adjusted the camera and snapped a picture of the motel door, which displayed the number 202. “We need to find out who Room 202 is registered to. But first we’d better find out where she’s going next.”

  Frankie followed the Porsche through the tree-lined streets as it zipped through the downtown section of the city and finally stopped in front of Riley’s Gym. Cassandra pulled into the parking lot and a minute later exited her car with a gym bag slung casually over her shoulder.

  “Well, she’s not completely lying to her husband,” Johanna observed. “Now what?”

  Frankie’s eyes narrowed as she turned into the parking lot and maneuvered the car into a spot where they could keep their eyes on the front door, but far enough away from Cassandra’s Porsche in case she recognized it from the motel and became suspicious. “We sit it out.” She smiled. “I love these type of cases. Good money for sitting on our asses.”

  * * * *

  Forty-five minutes later Cassandra rushed out of the building and half-ran to her car. She was dressed in a bright pink form-fitting leotard with tights a shade lighter. As she passed under the parking lot lights, her flushed face was illuminated.

  Johanna used the zoom feature on the camera and snapped some close-up pictures. “She looks upset.”

  Frankie waited until Cassandra had put her car in gear and pulled onto the highway before starting the Chevy. She eased onto the street and followed the Porsche through the downtown area and the outskirts of town, ending on the road where McHenry’s mansion was located. When Cassandra turned into her driveway, Frankie drove past without slowing.

  Frankie felt it was safe that Cassandra was staying at home, so she steered the car back home.

  Once home, Johanna transferred the pictures to the computer while Frankie poured two glasses of wine. “She looks scared,” she said, taking a glass of wine from Frankie as her eyes surveyed the photos.

  Frankie leaned over, staring at the computer screen. “First thing tomorrow morning we’ll see who Room 202 is registered to. Then we’ll head over to the gym.”

  Johanna sipped her wine as she scrutinized each photo. A half hour later she turned off the computer. “I’m going to hit the shower and then climb into bed. I’m bushed.”

  “I’m right behind you,” Frankie said with a tender slap on Johanna’s ass. “I’m just going to finish logging in the notes and our hours. We’ll probably be giving McHenry a large refund.”

  * * * *

  Johanna stretched. She caressed Frankie’s arm, which was wound around her waist. She’d gone to bed a couple of hours ago, but couldn’t sleep. Something about the pictures she’d downloaded to her computer didn’t seem right. She wished she could figure out what was nagging her about them.

  Frankie opened an eye and squinted. “Is it time to wake up?” she murmured. “I could sleep for a week.”

  Johanna turned on her side facing Frankie. She leaned in for a kiss, loving the feel of Frankie’s full, soft lips on hers. “No, babe. Go back to sleep.” She wrapped Frankie in her arms as her mind drifted back to the time they’d first met.

  She’d fallen for Frankie from almost the first moment she laid eyes on her, but she’d kept a wedge between them so her true feelings wouldn’t be suspect. Not allowing any personal conversation was the only way she could work with this intriguing woman. At night she’d fantasize about being with Frankie. Her mind was tortured knowing she’d never have her. When Frankie revealed the truth about her own sexuality, Johanna had barely been able to contain her happiness, but fear had kept her from moving too fast. Thankfully, Frankie was a patient woman or Johanna would have lost the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  She’d never met a woman like Frankie and they complimented one another in all areas. The first night they’d made love she gave her heart and soul to her. Frankie, two years younger, stood two inches taller, was slim, had beautiful short chestnut brown hair and big brown eyes. She was a classic feminine beauty. Johanna never tired of her company even though they were often together twenty-four hours a day. She wouldn’t change a thing about their lives and sometimes had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  She caressed Frankie’s bare back and finally drifted off to sleep.

  * * * *

  “I’ll make coffee and then after breakfast we can head over to the motel to find out who registered the room.” Frankie gave Johanna a hug then moved off the bed. She slipped into her bathrobe and handed Johanna her robe.

  Johanna threw her robe on. “I’ll do it, honey,” she said, following Frankie into their spacious kitchen. She put the coffee on while Frankie turned on the news and then they settled themselves in the breakfast nook while they waited for the coffee to brew. Frankie glanced at the previous evening’s newspaper while Johanna turned her attention to the morning news.

  “Oh my God!” Johanna suddenly exclaimed pointing to the TV screen. “That’s Cassandra McHenry!”

  Frankie looked up from the newspaper and at the TV screen. Her eyes widened. “Her body was found in Room 202 of The Overlook Motel. The approximate time of death was eleven fifteen last night? That can’t be.”

  Johanna shook her head back and forth. “Something’s not right here.” She looked at Frankie.

  “The coroner must have the time wrong. It was after eleven when she pulled into her driveway. There’s no way she could have made it back there.” She ran a hand through her hair. “After we saw her pull into her driveway she goes back to the motel and is murdered all in the space of ten or fifteen minutes? It doesn’t make sense. She couldn’t have even driven back to the motel in that space of time. Was the Porsche at the motel?”

  “The Porsche wasn’t mentioned in the report.” Johanna walked over to the coffee maker and poured two cups of coffee. She brought the steaming cups back to the table. She pensively stirred sugar into her cup. “But there’s no denying that it’s her.” She stared at Frankie. “Let’s call George. Maybe the reporter got the time of death wrong.”

  Frankie punched in the number of Sheriff George Ryker and put the phone on speaker so they could both hear and talk to George. She drummed her fingertips impatiently on the table as she waited for her call to be connected. A couple of minutes later Geor
ge’s voice came over the line.

  “Hi, George. Frankie and Johanna here.”

  “Hi, ladies. I’m in the middle of something right now. Can I get back to you later?” he asked in a strained voice.

  “The McHenry murder?” Frankie asked. “I just heard about it on the news.”

  His heavy sigh was audible over the line. “Yeah. I can’t even recall the last time we had a murder in Charlestown outside of a drug deal gone wrong or domestic violence. Nothing like this.”

  “That’s why we’re calling, George,” Johanna said.

  They filled him in on the details of Cassandra McHenry’s whereabouts the previous night.

  “We received an anonymous call at approximately eleven twenty last night. The body has been positively ID’d by her husband and is unquestionably Cassandra McHenry’s. She was shot three times in the face…point blank. It was a real mess. There didn’t appear to be a forced entry or a struggle so we’re assuming she knew her killer.”

  “Any witnesses?” Frankie asked.

  “You know I can’t tell you that, Frankie. The couple in the room next door heard shots about quarter after eleven, and called 9-1-1 a couple of minutes later. They were too frightened to open their door until we arrived to question them.”

  “Who was the room registered to where she was shot?”

  “Now, Frankie, quit fishing. I’ve told you too much all ready.”

  “Nothing more than what we just heard on the news report,” Frankie replied.

  “Why was she renting a motel room?” Johanna asked.

  “I never said she was,” George answered.

  “The time of death still doesn’t add up. We tailed her last night. What the hell’s going on, George?”

  “I wish I knew, Frankie. Right now my top priority is to find her killer.”

  “And ours is to find out who the hell we were tailing,” Frankie replied. “Was the Porsche at the motel?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “We’ll be in touch, George.” Frankie clicked off the phone. “The motel’s going to be swarming with cops and reporters. Let’s see what we can find out at Riley’s Gym first. We’ll check out the motel later.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Johanna agreed.

  * * * *

  “How often did Cassandra McHenry come to the gym?” Frankie asked Bailey, the pretty mid-thirties brunette whose nametag identified her as day manager of Riley’s Gym.

  Her eyes misted. “Every day. You could set your watch by her. She’d been a member for years and then about two months ago she stopped coming mornings and began coming at night. She’d arrive anywhere from nine thirty on and stay until the gym closed at eleven. She was a friendly likeable person. Everyone here is shocked by her death…especially being murdered like that. I didn’t think she had any enemies, but obviously she did,” she said in a wobbly voice.

  “I take it you knew her well,” Johanna said quietly.

  She drew a shaky breath. “I suppose so. I hadn’t talked to her since she started nights, though. We weren’t bosom buddies or anything like that. We might have been if either of our circumstances had been different. I liked her and enjoyed her company. We obviously ran in different social circles, but she wasn’t snobbish. Even though she was rich, she never made me feel like I was in a lower social class.” She took a tissue from a box sitting on the counter and dabbed at her eyes. “She never put on airs. If you didn’t know, you’d never guess she was wealthy. Once in a while we’d have a cup of coffee together or grab a bite at the deli down the street. I think she was lonely. Graham was very protective of her and didn’t encourage friendships out of her social standing.”

  “Did she ever mention any problems in her marriage?” Johanna asked.

  She shook her head. “No. It was obvious that she was head over heels in love with her husband even though he was controlling. Just between us, I don’t know what she saw in the man. Occasionally he came in with her and he’d brush us off as though we weren’t even good enough to wipe his shoes. She’d always apologize afterwards for his obnoxious behavior.”

  “Did she ever say how they’d met?” Frankie asked.

  “He’d worked as a financial advisor for her family for years. He was a confirmed bachelor so her family always invited him for holidays and he’d become almost like a part of the family. When her parents were killed several years ago in a plane crash, she became even closer to him and she trusted him with everything. They’ve been married for five years. She was twenty-four and he was forty-nine when they married.”

  Johanna looked up from the notes she was taking. “That’s quite an age difference.” She arched an eyebrow.

  “That’s what I thought, too, but I think she was looking for someone to take care of her.”

  “Why? She was rich. She could hire anyone she wanted to take care of her every whim.” Frankie looked intently at Bailey.

  She slowly shook her head. “I don’t mean financially, of course. More like a father image.”

  “What about past boyfriends?” Frankie asked.

  “She once told me that every time she met someone she cared about, she’d soon find out that it was her money he was really interested in. She wanted to be loved for herself.” She shrugged. “That’s something we all want…rich or poor.”

  “So Graham McHenry came to the rescue,” Frankie put in.

  “He’d known her since the day she and her twin Chelsea were born.”

  Johanna raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know she had a twin.”

  Bailey nodded. “Chelsea’s been estranged from the family for years and they rarely spoke her name.”

  “Does she live in Charlestown?”

  “No. I heard that she moved to the West Coast years ago and hasn’t been heard from since.”

  “Let’s get back to Graham,” Frankie said. “From what you said it was only natural that he and Cassandra would get together.”

  “After her parents died he was there giving her a strong shoulder to lean on. And like I said, she trusted him. Besides, he certainly had enough of his own money so she knew that his love was genuine,” Bailey replied.

  “Did they have a large wedding?” Johanna said.

  “No. Cassandra told me they had a private wedding on some remote island. Graham didn’t want to deal with the media attention. No one knew they’d married until they returned.”

  “I assume that Cassandra had him sign a pre-nup,” Johanna stated.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “She never said and, of course, I never asked her, but I doubt it. Like I said, she trusted him with her life. She had old-fashioned values. She even changed the name of the family estate to McHenry. I was stunned, but I think that was her way of showing Graham, and everyone who may have had doubts about their relationship, that she was serious about her vows. She was refreshing.”

  “Do you think he coerced her into changing the name?” Johanna pursed her lips. “It seems odd since it was her family’s estate.”

  Bailey shook her head. “I don’t know. All I can offer are suppositions. She was the end of her line…except for Chelsea. Like I said, maybe it was her way of proving her love to Graham. I do agree with you, though, that it is odd. I couldn’t imagine doing it if I had been in her situation.”

  “Did you ever meet Cassandra’s twin, Chelsea?” Johanna asked.

  “I’d seen her around town, but I didn’t know her personally. She’d left the state some years ago. Cassandra hadn’t seen or heard from her in years. Chelsea didn’t even come back for her parents’ funerals, and it was well publicized so there was no way she wouldn’t have heard.” She scowled. “She was as rotten as Cassandra was good. They may have been identical twins but that’s where the similarities ended.”

  “They were identical twins?” Johanna asked.

  Bailey nodded. “Cassandra mentioned once that the only way anyone could tell them apart was by their eye color. I remember them both. As a teenager I used to work in th
e arcade in the mall and they’d come in with their mother to play video games a couple of times a week. They were always dressed alike and I never could tell them apart. Cassandra and I used to laugh about that. She told me when they were kids they used to enjoy fooling their parents, pretending to be each other. When they got older, though, Chelsea developed a wild streak. They drifted apart and ran in separate social circles.” She sighed. “I could tell that Cassandra missed the closeness they’d shared when they were younger. Deep down it was apparent that she cared about and missed her sister. Chelsea was the only blood relative she had left.”

  “Did Cassandra plan to start a family?” Johanna continued.

  “I think she would have loved nothing more than to have children. She’d met my daughter, Mindy, a couple of times when I brought her to work with me. She was good with her. She’d mentioned to Graham that they should start a family, but he felt he was too old to become a father. I think he was afraid he would have been perceived as the child’s grandfather instead of the father. Cassandra didn’t say that…it’s my own opinion.”

  Johanna smiled faintly. “I can understand that. Let’s get back to Chelsea. Did Cassandra ever mention whether Chelsea had married?”

  “Chelsea’d gotten in with a bad crowd in Philly when she was a teenager, so Cassandra assumed she’d moved to California with a junkie she was dating. I’d heard talk that she later married the guy, but with Chelsea no one knew for sure what was truth and what was lies.”

  “She sounds like a piece of work,” Frankie observed.

  “Chelsea was so messed up by drugs that her parents, after trying everything they could think of, including hospitalization, kicked her out. After various treatments and interventions, she’d be okay for a while, and then settle back into her old ways. She’d stolen money from them repeatedly for drugs, and verbally abused them. Cassandra never condoned what Chelsea had done, but she was her sister and deep down she still loved her no matter what she’d done.”