SEALs of Honor: Taylor

by Dale Mayer

  He studied her for a long moment, and she stared back in confusion. “Well, that makes no sense. I wouldn’t have let him in. I mean, I might have known him to recognize him but not enough for a Tinder hookup. Especially one I didn’t even know about.”

  “A lot of people never know who they hook up with,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The thing is, I’m just wondering if you were the target or if it was Gary. Or the both of you.”

  As she slowly understood, the color left her face once again, and she sank onto the couch. “Meaning, the killer would have shown up before Gary, or soon afterward, and was maybe hoping to take us both out?”

  “We’re making a lot of assumptions here,” Taylor said with a nod. “But it does play.”

  “No,” she said. “It doesn’t play at all. None of that makes any sense. Nobody hates me enough to want to set me up with a fake date, then kill my date and kill me.”

  “Somebody hated you enough to set you up with a fake date and to kill him in your bed.”

  When Taylor put it that way, it was a little hard to argue. She lay back against the couch and closed her eyes, trying to let all this roll around in her head. “How did he get in?” she asked, suddenly sitting up straight again.

  “Good question,” Taylor said. “How did he get into your apartment?”

  She checked the messages from the Tinder app. “The fake me didn’t give any instructions on how to get in,” she said. “So he was obviously expecting me to open the door.” She glanced at Taylor. “What if the person who did this is a woman?”

  His eyes lit with interest. “I like that,” he said. “Somebody jealous of you? Or hates you? Somebody whose boyfriend preferred you over her? Or some guy who thought you were interested in Gary and wanted it to be him instead? I don’t know. All kinds of angles here.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how she got into my apartment though,” Midge snapped.

  “Well, there are ways to break into any place,” he said. “But do you have any girlfriends who might have stayed over? Any parties where the girlfriends crashed here? Anytime you’ve gone away and left a key with a neighbor?”

  She shook her head, then froze. “Yes,” she said. “Mama Parkins. You know? On the first floor. Her husband is the super.”

  Taylor nodded. “Yes, I’ve met him, but I don’t know that I’ve ever met her.”

  Midge started to breathe faster. “What are the chances she’s not okay?” she asked. “I can’t imagine she would just hand over my key.”

  “Unless they had a damn good excuse,” Taylor said. “Unfortunately, I’ve heard people say they were a missing lover or planning a surprise party, all kinds of excuses to get into somebody’s apartment.”

  “Mama Parkins isn’t like that,” she said. “You’d know that if you’d ever met her. She’s old-school. Very much a by-the-rules person.”

  “In other words, you don’t think she would voluntarily have handed over your key?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, let’s go back over a few of the other ideas first then. Just clarify for me again, please. Has any girlfriend slept over recently?”

  She shook her head.

  “Has anybody slept over recently?”

  Knowing what he meant, she shook her head.

  “In the last two months?”

  She flushed but stared at him bravely. “No.”

  He just raised an eyebrow and looked at her.

  She glared. “Dating has been a little slim recently, okay?”

  “Any reason why?” he asked, his gaze narrowing.

  “I’m picky,” she said with a shrug.

  He chuckled. “Good,” he said. “I am too.”

  She wasn’t sure what to make of that.

  “What about maintenance? Have you had anyone around to do maintenance in your apartment?”

  “No, I would have just called the super if I had a problem,” she said, frowning. “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Not likely,” he said cheerfully. “I would have fixed it myself.”

  She shot him a look. “Well, I don’t have any tools and hardly would know how to begin anyway. Besides, that doesn’t mean anybody else would have come into my apartment without my permission.”

  “In the best-case scenario, that would be true,” he said. “However, say an apartment above or below was dealing with some major flooding. The repairman could have gone in there without your permission.”

  She thought about that, and it made a lot of sense. “Then we have to talk to the super. So that means Mama Parkins again.”

  “Well, that’s easy,” he said. “I’ll make some food, and then I’ll walk down and knock on the door and see if we can get any answers.”

  “What do you have in mind for food?” she asked, straightening again. “We can order in.”

  “We could,” he said, “but I just came in from a few days down in Baja, and I’m tired of restaurant meals.”

  “I prefer home cooking anyway,” she said, looking at the front door. “I had food in my fridge, but we’re not allowed in there.”

  “I have food,” he said, then walked into the kitchen ahead of her. She opened the fridge and crowed in delight. “Hey, you’ve got lots of good veggies here, so we can do a nice big salad, if nothing else.”

  “I’ve also got burgers here,” he said, “and buns.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I can fry them.”

  He hesitated and looked at the barbecue on the balcony and asked, “Do you know how to barbecue?”

  She nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, if you have one.” He walked out onto the small balcony, lit the barbecue and said, “While this warms up, I’ll race downstairs and talk to the super real quick.”

  “Okay, I’ll chop up the vegetables,” she replied, and he disappeared.

  She turned to the preparations and busied herself with the makings of a salad. While not an expert cook, eating was one thing she loved to do. And it would certainly help take her mind off this nightmare.

  *

  Taylor went down the hallway to the stairs and headed for the apartment of the super. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He frowned and knocked again. Again, nothing. He hated to, but needing to know the answer, he grabbed the knob and turned it, but it was locked.

  “Shit,” he muttered, but then again they had a life too. Maybe they’d gone out for dinner. He headed back toward the stairs but caught the elevator instead because it opened right beside him. He returned to his apartment to find Midge putting the burgers on the barbecue outside. She was half done with the salad making, so he took over her spot, and she found him prepping the salad.

  “Did you talk to them?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No, there’s no answer. I figured they went out for dinner.”

  She frowned. “They don’t go out much, not with Mama Parkins.”

  “Well, I guess I’ve never met her, so what’s the deal? She doesn’t like to go out?”

  “She’s in a wheelchair and usually has an oxygen tank close by.”

  His dicing slowed as his thoughts ran to the most negative scenario possible, until he pulled back those thoughts and said, “Okay, I’ll try again after we eat.” While she took over finishing the salad, he cleaned off the table, so there was a place to sit for two, then got out the buns and burger fixings. With the salad on the table, they worked together, companionably slicing tomatoes and onions for the burgers.

  “Any chance you have pickles?”

  “Spicy or dill?”

  “Both if you have them.”

  With a grin, he pulled both jars from the fridge and said, “Sounds like you like your burgers like I like my burgers. With everything.”

  “I like everything but heavy horseradish,” she said with a chuckle. “A little bit is fine. But, other than that, no.”

  Before long, he pulled the burgers off the barbecue, then placed them on the buns. When they sat down for a meal together, she looked at h
im and smiled. “This is a rare treat. I don’t have a grill, so I’ve missed out on the special flavor that comes with having barbecued burgers and steaks.”

  “We can do it again if you want,” he offered. “It’s much nicer to have a meal for two than just one anyway.”

  “It is, indeed,” she said with a smile. “Sadly, a pack of steaks is in my fridge.”

  “Well, on the off chance that we get in there anytime soon,” he said, “I suggest we have those for dinner tomorrow night.”

  He picked up his burger and took a big bite. Hoping she didn’t notice, his mind was worrying away on the super downstairs. Taylor thought about calling somebody else but didn’t want to set off alarms if it wasn’t necessary. She appeared to be enjoying her burger and salad. The fatigue was still visible on her face, but at least some of her color had returned. “You’re looking better,” he said suddenly.

  “I’m feeling better too,” she said. “Food is definitely a help.”

  By the time they finished, another ten minutes had passed.

  “Go,” she urged.

  He looked up at her in surprise.

  “Do you think I didn’t notice that you keep checking your watch? Is it the super you’re worried about? In that case, you better go.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll help you clean up here, and then I’ll walk down.”

  “I can clean up,” she said firmly. “It’s the least I can do. You go check on them. Mama Parkins is an interesting character, but I surely wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to them, and you’ve got me concerned. So go check on them, please.”

  “Okay,” he said with a smile. “I hope I don’t need to tell you—and I forgot to last time—but please don’t let anybody in.”

  “I won’t,” she said. As he walked to the front door, she said, “Hurry back.”

  “Will do.” Stopping, he asked, “What’s your phone number?” As she shared her digits, he pulled out his phone and entered her cell info into his phone. Then he sent her a text. “I’ve just sent you a blank text, so I’m in yours as well.”

  As he walked out, he stopped in the hallway and took a look at her apartment. The door was closed, and no crime scene tape was on the outside, which was typical along the base. Ignoring that, he walked to the stairs and went down slowly. His mind churned as he thought about his options if the super and his wife didn’t answer again. He walked up to the door at the end of the hallway and knocked. Again, there was no answer.

  He walked out the back exit and around to the window. One window was on the wall where the kitchen was. He peered through but couldn’t see anything. He carried on around to the back, where they had a little patio area set up. He could see the ramp from the kitchen out onto the patio, but nobody was out there. He stepped onto the cement blocks and walked up to the glass doors. He knocked on them and again didn’t see any movement. He pulled on the glass doors, and they opened.

  Instantly, he could smell what he didn’t want to smell. He poked his head inside and couldn’t see anything. He took a few cautious steps in to check the living room, but nobody was there. He went into the bedroom and found both people were still in bed. And probably had been since early this morning. He retraced his steps and closed the patio door. Then he called Detective Butler, to whom he had spoken to earlier. When the detective answered the phone, he said, “This is Taylor. I called you earlier about a dead man in the apartment across from me.”

  “Right, Taylor. What can I do for you?”

  “You need to come back here,” he said. “I called on the superintendent and his wife. They are both dead in their bed.”

  Chapter 4

  When the door opened behind her, she turned, startled. But it was Taylor. She smiled brightly and said, “I took the liberty of putting on a pot of coffee.”

  He stared at her with a blank expression, and she raced toward him. “What happened?”

  But the door stayed open, and Detective Butler stepped inside and closed it behind him. Taylor caught her up and tucked her into his arms.

  She went eagerly, knowing he was distressed over something. She looked up at him. “What happened?” she repeated and turned to look at the detective. “Did something else happen? Or do you have more questions?”

  “Something else happened,” the detective said.

  She frowned at him and then gasped. “Not Mama Parkins?”

  The detective nodded. “You’re the one who suggested Taylor go downstairs?”

  She struggled to get her mind wrapped around what had just happened. “We were figuring out how somebody could have gotten into my apartment when I was at work. Taylor asked if anyone had a key, and I mentioned Mama Parkins. They have the super’s keys, of course, but this was different. A long time ago I gave her a duplicate key when I expected someone. But she wouldn’t give that key out without my knowledge. Not for any reason. She is very strict about that.”

  “Too strict apparently,” Taylor said. “You need to brace yourself. They both have been murdered.”

  She stepped out of his arms, both hands going to her mouth as she stared at him in shock. Tears pooled at the corner of her eyes as she thought of the two older people who lived on the main floor in the corner. “That’s not fair. They never hurt anybody. Poor Mama Parkins could barely even move.” She turned to the detective. “Are we sure they were murdered? They didn’t just die in their sleep?”

  His face was grim. “No, there’s no doubt.”

  Reaching a hand to her temple, she walked into the living room and sagged once again in the corner of the couch. “What is going on? That’s three people in this building.”

  “That we know about,” Taylor said. “Definitely something rotten is going on here.”

  “Can you give us any idea why somebody might have killed that couple?” the detective asked her.

  “Only for the same reason Taylor went down to talk to them. To see if anybody had access to my apartment. If anybody had asked to get in or had wanted the keys.”

  “Taylor told me about your phone and the messages supposedly sent without your knowledge.”

  “No supposedly about it,” she said firmly. “I did not set that up.”

  The detective nodded but held out his hand. She pulled out her phone, then swiped it so the password was open and handed it to him with the messages still open. He looked at it and said, “I need access to your account.”

  “No problem,” she muttered. “I’d just give you the phone, but I need it.”

  “I’m taking it anyway,” he said. “We’ll try to get it back to you tomorrow morning.”

  “Great,” she said. “What else can go wrong?”

  “If you need to make a call, you can use mine,” Taylor said.

  “What if other people need to call me?” she asked. “You know how people are if they can’t get ahold of you. Just like you couldn’t get ahold of the super, so you went back down again. People will be calling to get ahold of me.”

  “What people?” Detective Butler intervened.

  “My mother and my sister,” she said. “When it rings, you’ll see. But please don’t tell them any of this. They would book flights from Maine and be here tomorrow morning to try to get me to move back.”

  “You don’t want to move home?” he asked.

  “I came all this way to get some distance,” she said with half a smile. “I don’t really want to head back anytime soon.”

  “Any reasons we should know about?” the detective asked. “Because your place wasn’t chosen at random. It appears you were targeted, and the people who got in their way were taken out.”

  “Is Mama Parkins even connected to Gary?” she corrected. “Isn’t it too early to tell that?”

  “Yes,” he said, “that is true. But generally, if you get three murders in the same building at the same time, they’re connected.”

  “At the same time?” She looked over at Taylor. “You said they died in bed. Wasn’t that this morning then?”
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  “Maybe, we have to sort out time of death,” the detective said. “But even within the same twelve-hour period is way too close. That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

  “I know. I know,” she said. “And that never happens here.” She groaned. “I just can’t believe this is happening. They were a really nice couple. They so didn’t deserve this.”

  “But Gary did?” asked the detective with interest in his voice.

  She glared at him. “I don’t know. I didn’t know the man. I don’t know where he lives and only know he worked at the base. I didn’t even know he worked at the supply office until Taylor told me. Other than that, I couldn’t tell you one thing about him.”

  The detective nodded. “We obviously have a lot to sort out here. At the moment, the coroner has been notified, and I’ve called in a team. I’m sure we’ll have more questions for you.” He turned and walked to the front door. “The next time you want to check on somebody in this place,” he said, looking at Taylor, “maybe you shouldn’t.” And he closed the door behind him.

  Midge looked at Taylor and asked, “What did he mean by that?”

  “Well, being the person who discovered three bodies all in the same day, I’m pretty sure they think I’m either bad luck or that I’m involved.” He sagged on the couch. “Like he said early on, it’s been a hell of a day.” Then he remembered and lifted his nose. “You said there was coffee.”

  She waved her hand at the kitchen. “Yeah, I made coffee, but I don’t know if I can even drink any right now.”

  “I could use a cup,” he said. “I’d like a couple shots of whiskey, but the night is young. And I highly doubt it’s over, at least for me. And I don’t want to smell like booze in case anything else happens.”

  She looked at him. “What else could possibly happen?”

  He shot her a hard look as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Just don’t ask,” he said. “Don’t ask.”

  *

  Cup in hand, Taylor sat down and put his feet up on the coffee table. He’d taken the center of the couch, with her curled up beside him. The somber mood in the room was fully justified. He knew it would be a while before he’d forget about the couple down in their bed a floor below. He laid his hand gently on her knee. Almost instantly, she covered his hand with hers. “Do you think they suffered?”