Promised Lies (A Detective Blanchette Mystery)

by Ashton, Marguerite

  Just like the condo. When she used the remainder of her college money last year for the closing, she was able to claim a home that belonged to her.

  Now she was leaving.

  “You’ve got to stop being so angry,” Mrs. Danvers said.

  “It’s easy for you to say; you’re not a burden to anyone.” Morgan stared out the window and watched as a bright red cardinal flitted from branch to branch. “I’m in my early thirties and have to move back in with my parents. You guys should be living your life, sitting in your matching rocking chairs and watching old shows. Things you enjoy doing.

  “I don’t want to even think about trying to find a guy who won’t look at me with disgust or pity. So don’t ask me not to be angry. That’s not fair.”

  Her mother arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know about fair. Guess that’s something I missed while rocking and watching reruns.”

  Pounding on the front door startled Morgan before she could respond.

  She whirled around as her mother went to answer the door. “It has to be Lily or one of the others. No one else knows the code to get in.”

  Mrs. Danvers squinted through the peephole. “It’s Alec.” She opened the door and let him in.

  Alec hugged Morgan’s mother and spoke to her for a few seconds before looking over at Morgan. The day she got shot flashed in her mind. All she could remember was hearing him yelling for help.

  As Alec stood there in his yellow dress shirt and silk tie, it was hard to see him as more than a skirt chaser, but his face was serious and full of concern. She was seeing a side of him that she hadn’t known existed. “You can walk toward me. I won’t run you over.”

  Alec smiled and ventured into the living room. “I see getting shot didn’t take away your playful tongue.”

  She turned away and made her way back to the window. “Out of everyone else around me, I’m hoping you’ll remain laid back and not get all serious on me. I need laughter and a daily text about the latest chick you’re dating.”

  Alec came up alongside Morgan and looked down at her. “And I can give that to you?”

  “You have since I’ve known you. There’s no need to switch up because I have wheels instead of heels to get around.”

  After a few seconds of not hearing a reply from Alec, Morgan glanced up at him and noticed his eyes were no longer on her face. “I hope you’re reading the name on my shirt.”

  “It’s not my fault that Lancaster, PA, sits perfect on your chest.”

  Morgan laughed.

  “I can’t stay long, but I didn’t want you to leave without saying goodbye.” Alec bent over to hug her. “When I come to Pennsylvania, I’m taking you on a date.”

  “A date?”

  “To Clipper Stadium for a baseball game.”

  “It just so happens that I love baseball. You’re on.”

  There was another knock at the front door.

  “This time it’s Lily,” Morgan said, looking over her shoulder.

  After her friend let himself out and Lily entered, Morgan realized that Alec’s visit was just what she needed to lift her spirits.

  *

  As Lily emptied Morgan’s sock drawer into a hamper, a newspaper clipping fell out and floated toward the ground. She picked it up and read it: Man Killed by Drunk Driver. Her eyes dropped down to the date – August 7, 1994. “What do you want me to do with this,” she asked, holding up the article to her friend.

  Sorrow splintered Morgan’s face. “Throw it away.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She shook her head. “After my latest crisis, I just want to have a ceasefire with whoever believes that I can handle all of the bad things that keep happening in my life.”

  Lily crumbled the paper and did what Morgan said.

  Morgan picked her phone off the bed, fumbled with it and dropped it in her lap. “That car came out of nowhere because the woman was so drunk she didn’t turn on her lights and ran the stop sign. By the time I recognized what was coming our way, it was too late. She smashed into the passenger side where my boyfriend was seated. We were both airlifted to the hospital, but he died later that night.

  “You know, before that day, I went to church every Sunday and prayed to God like I was taught and all it got me was no one to love, no job, and now, no legs.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of the wheelchair. “Do you think if I could stop being so mad and forgive that things will get better for me? That I’ll get a second chance?”

  Lily lowered her head. “You’re going to have to be patient. Wait and see while staying focused on what it is you want.”

  Morgan immobilized Lily with a watery gaze. “I want to walk again.”

  Lily kneeled alongside the wheelchair. “Then I’ll do the praying and you’ll do whatever it takes to get yourself back on your feet."

  “You’ll visit?”

  “I’ll visit and take you shopping.”

  “For the latest and brightest?” Morgan asked, wiping away a tear.

  “Only for you.”

  “I broke our pledge.”

  Lily stood up and turned around. “I don’t see any guys around.”

  “Morgan?” Mr. Danvers came into the bedroom holding up a pair of orange heels. “What do you want me to do with all of your shoes?”

  “Just pack them. They can go into storage.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and backed out of the bedroom.

  Morgan leaned her head back, looked up at the ceiling and exhaled. “Have things in your world settled down after being tossed off the case?”

  “Actually, I’m back on it. I just found out this morning.” Lily cleaned out the rest of the dresser drawers, filled up the hamper and moved it out into the hall.

  Morgan lifted her head. “Then what the hell are you doing here?”

  Lily didn’t answer.

  “It’s not your fault that I’m in this chair.”

  “I needed to hear that, but I also miss us riding together.”

  “There’s nothing to miss. I’m still here. And if you need to brainstorm on a case, call me.”

  Chapter 28

  12:22 p.m.

  From the minute Lily sat down at her cubicle, her ears funneled information from first, second, and third parties about the case.

  She opened the files associated with the cases, laid them next to her liter of caffeinated soda, and began pouring over the collected evidence. She separated the photos of the six victims, pinning them to her corkboard. “Okay, ladies, talk to me.”

  All six victims were college students. They were stabbed with the same type of knife, received blows to the head, posed with a ring on their wedding finger and covered with cloths. Two were sexually assaulted. Four were not.

  Lily looked at Celine and Serena’s photo. One black. One hispanic.

  The others were white.

  My sister was stabbed out of anger and one got away. My other victims lived long enough to be a part of the killer’s sick game. So what was it the women had in common?

  Lily retrieved a small map from the top cabinet and drew circles around the neighboring colleges, family locations, and dumpsites.

  Celine was killed in her dorm and dumped at a cemetery. It was a twenty-minute drive from the university to the cemetery.

  The County Road K slayings occurred at Barkin Brewery and they were dumped by the highway, which is at most, a fifteen minute drive.

  Evan rolled his chair backwards into her cubicle. “How is the reading?”

  Lily said, “It’s starting to read like a foreign language.”

  “Can I see the transcript of the 911 call?” he asked.

  Lily searched through the papers until she found the one she wanted buried in the middle of the paperwork. “The teenagers used their cellphone to call it in. They didn’t see anyone running away from the scene.”

  “So, before he dumped the bodies he had to at least case the area.”

  “Not so sure about that. He dumped Tanya and Samantha by a high
way; one with traffic going in and out of Jefferson County. He wanted them found.”

  “And the cemetery?”

  “I’ve got nothing. From what we know, Celine was his first. Leaving her body in the cemetery would definitely evoke emotions. Nadia was found in a dumpster behind the Academy of Music.”

  “Where she attended,” Evan concluded. “But why hide her? He made sure the others were exposed.”

  Lily exhaled. “Wait. What if the killer is putting the victims on display because he got what he wanted from them? Then the wedding rings are like a reward. It’s like he’s showing them off?”

  “How’d you come up with that?”

  “Let’s look at what evidence we do have. After we figured out who had ties to Victor and his brewery it left us with the two brothers. Sanchez and Martinez. The only piece of evidence that has been left unanswered is the DNA similarities to Tanya and who’s the mastermind behind the killings.”

  “DNA similarities. The killer’s a relative?”

  “Probably. But we have to rule out Sanchez first. My guess is Sanchez is responsible for dumping the bodies of my sister, the first two victims, and the murder of the young woman found in the brewery. Both Tanya and Penny were raped postmortem.

  “We know it’s not racially motivated and he doesn’t have a type.”

  “I don’t believe that. Everyone has a type. Especially us guys. We know what we like.”

  “Really? What do you like?”

  “A woman with a heart. Like you. Underneath that beautiful two toned skin, lies a heart that cares.”

  Warmth filled Lily.

  “It doesn’t matter to me that you’re mixed with black and white,” Evan continued. “It’s the same for the killer. He sees something that is shared between each of his victims.

  “Maybe they’re lonely, co-dependent…gullible.”

  “Wait a second.” Lily quickly fanned through her notebook until she found the notes she took on the day she went to notify Tanya’s parents. She skimmed several lines until her eyes rested upon the comment made by Mrs. O’Neil about her brother.

  She looked up at Evan. “The mother told me that Tanya couldn’t attend college in Texas because her mother was elderly with a nurse and her brother had moved back to Wisconsin a year ago. Sanchez is the brother?”

  “Just my opinion, but you seldom hear about Irish and Latino weddings.”

  “Keyword, seldom. Not never. The O’Neal’s are hiding something.” Lily flipped her note book closed. “Look, we have the weekend to figure this out before Sanchez’s next hearing on Monday. It’s time to use everything we’ve got.”

  “All right.”

  “Call the crime lab and see if they ran Sanchez’s swab collected after his arrest.”

  “You bet. What does Landon think about this case?”

  “I dunno. I’ve tried to reach him, but I think he’s avoiding me.” Lily leaned forward and pointed to her notes from her interview with Joshua. “Joshua stated Sanchez had helped him when his car broke down on Third Street.”

  “The brewery runs along Third Street.”

  “There aren’t many buildings open on Third. Let’s check to see if there are cameras on any of the buildings.”

  Evan made his way back to his desk. “I’ll check on that after I call the lab.”

  Lily’s phone buzzed on the table. She snatched it up and read the caller ID. “Hauser?”

  “Tanya’s and Samantha’s parents came in for a conference. They’re in a grief session with Marty as we speak.”

  “I’m leaving now.”

  Lily hung up. She worked quickly to put the files neatly back in their folders.

  Evan returned to the cubicle. “Oscar said their still working on it.”

  “That was Hauser.”

  “Let’s go.”

  *

  Hauser opened the door, with Lily and Evan tagging behind him. “Here they are. Thanks for waiting.”

  Lily and Evan took seats on the opposite side of the table from the parents.

  “Is it true that Thomas Sanchez was granted bail?” Mr. O’Neal questioned.

  “It’s true,” Lily said. “The department is working every angle to find out what’s going on.”

  “If you’d worked every angle, that poor girl wouldn’t be dead,” Mr. Bernard said, covering his face with his hands. Samantha’s dad sobbed softly.

  Lily said, “We know everyone is frustrated, but until this is over, we need your cooperation.” She directed her attention at Mrs. O’Neal. “That means telling us everything.”

  Mrs. O’Neal shot a look at Lily and dabbed her eye with a tissue.

  In that instant, the words Morgan had echoed in the car just before Victor died helped snap one of the puzzle pieces into place. ‘“Maybe they’re half-brothers. Or stepbrothers.”’

  What if Evan’s opinion about Irish and Latino marriages were true? But you can’t just blurt out a question like that without having a solid reason for doing so.

  Lily clasped her hands together and looked down at the floor. Go with your gut instinct. She let several seconds go by before locking eyes with Mrs. O’Neal. “Do you have any connection to Thomas Sanchez?”

  “My wife’s been through enough. I’d like to take her home.”

  As much as Lily sympathized with the family, she wasn’t going to allow another delay. She focused her attention on Mrs. O’Neal. “We can’t waste any more time. What is your relation to--?”

  “He’s my brother. We have the same mother but different fathers.”

  “Was Xavier Martinez related to you too?”

  “Only by marriage,” Mrs. O’Neal replied, bringing her hand to her lips. “He was my mother’s third husband’s son.”

  “When were you going to tell us?” Evan asked.

  Mrs. O’Neal sat forward. “We don’t believe Thomas had anything to do with our daughter’s death. He doted on her.”

  The expression on Mrs. O’Neal’s face was one Lily had come to know too well. Family was important. They were going to stand by Sanchez until something could be proven otherwise.

  No one blames you, Mrs. O’Neal. At times, we can be prisoners of our loyalty to our family. Whether it be naivety or plain devotion, it’s heartbreaking once our mind settles on the reality of the betrayal. And for some of us, it’s too late. “When was the last time you saw your brother?”

  “The night before the girls went missing.”

  Evan continued to take notes.

  “Did Tanya ever say anything to the two of you about him?” Lily asked.

  “No.”

  “Semen collected at the crime scene has DNA similarities with someone in your family. With your permission, Mrs. O’Neal, we would like to take some of your hair for Mitochondrial DNA testing,” Lily said.

  “What is Mito…DNA?”

  “It’s when forensics test for maternal lineage,” Lily said. “The medical examiner did a profile match from Tanya with another case six months ago.”

  “He’s done this before?” Mr. O’Neal asked, his voice rising.

  “It looks that way. Do we have your permission?” Lily asked.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Lily glanced over at Evan.

  Evan closed his notepad and rose from his chair. “I hope you understand we need to rule out all possibilities.”

  Evan’s word lingered like thick molasses as his eyes rested on Mr. O’Neal.

  “This is bull. You think I raped my daughter? What kind of ambush is this?” he asked, shooting out of his seat.

  “We know you didn’t hurt your daughter; however, if I were in your shoes, I would do everything in my power to find my daughter’s killer,” Lily said.

  “But you’re not in my shoes, Detective! And by God, I pray that you never will be!” Mr. O’Neal said, rubbing his cheek. “Take what you need.”

  Hauser walked over with a buccal swab kit. “I just need to swab the inside of your cheek.”

  Mr. O’Neal op
ened his mouth as Hauser broke open a pack of latex gloves and put them on. Then, Hauser removed a long handled cotton swab and rubbed the inside of Mr. O’Neal’s cheek.

  After Hauser finished, he placed the sample in a plastic tube and secured it with an adhesive seal marked “Evidence.”

  As Hauser cleaned up and left, Marty sat forward and patted Mrs. O’Neal’s hand. “Detectives,” he began in a crisp tone, “these parents have suffered a great loss. I think that’s enough for tonight. Can I see you outside, Detective Blanchette?”

  “Certainly,” she replied, through clenched teeth.

  “Ladies first.”

  They stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind them.

  Lily knew where this was going and was happy to see the hallway was quiet. She braced herself, waiting for Marty’s verbal attack.

  Marty straightened his bow tie, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and pointed his crooked finger at Lily. “Detective, maybe you should apply tact to your investigation skills.”

  He flexed his bony arms and folded them across his chest. The elbow patches on his plaid sports coat were not only an eyesore for Lily, but she thought about how much fun Morgan would’ve had lecturing him on the latest trend for men.

  “Marty, I am in no mood for your I-think-the-woman-should-be-at-home innuendo. This is my investigation.”

  “Your investigation; my clients. I suggest using a gentler approach the next time you practically accuse a father of raping his daughter during his time of bereavement.”

  “Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

  A few of the staff members poked their head out of their office to see what all the commotion was about, which prompted Lily and Marty to regain control of their voices.

  “Sorry,” Lily said.

  The employees nodded and went back inside.

  Hauser came up behind them. “Are you two done?”

  Lily snatched out her scrunchie, letting her hair fall around her shoulders. “Yep.”