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Killer in Sight (A Tom Lackey Mystery)

Page 14

by Sandra Carrington-Smith


  made her heart hurt, yet she couldn’t give up. She owed

  it to Alexis and, she thought closing her eyes, she owed

  it to Tracey.

  #

  Tom knocked on the door and waited for Mary

  Townsend to open it. He was still frustrated from his

  exchange with Kathy, so he hoped that the Townsend

  woman was at least going to be cordial. He wasn’t

  worried so much about her hostility as he was worried

  about his own reaction if she said something that pissed

  him off. Tom was usually proud of his calm demeanor

  and, thanks to his mother, he had a healthy respect for

  women, but Mary Townsend didn’t fit his image of a

  woman, and he felt that all boundaries were off. He

  despised men who abused women, and felt no

  differently about women abusing women: Only a sick

  coward would harm another person to feel in complete

  control. He felt his hands closing into fists as an image

  of Shannon’s bruised face and shoulder flashed through

  his mind, so he took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

  “Can I help you?” Mary Townsend’s voice didn’t

  sound happy when she opened the door, but then again,

  Tom never expected her to be pleasant. This Mary didn’t

  have a little lamb – she was the wolf who ate the little

  lamb. She stood in the middle of the open entrance with

  one hand on the door handle and one hand on the door

  frame, sending a less-than-subtle signal that he wasn’t

  welcome inside.

  “I stopped by yesterday but you were not home. I

  have a few questions to ask you about Shannon

  Brinkley. You are the person who found her, right?”

  “I was at work yesterday. And I was sleeping just

  now. How long is this going to take?”

  “Not too long Ma’am. May I come in?” Tom

  accentuated the word ‘ma’am,’ sure in his heart that

  Mary Townsend didn’t appreciate being addressed as a

  lady. Just getting under her skin felt like a small victory

  right now.

  Mary moved away from the door but her face

  continued to reflect her annoyance. “Sure. Come in and

  make yourself at home. Do you want a beer?”

  A beer?! At this time of morning?

  “No, thank you Ma’am. I can’t drink while I am

  working.”

  “Your loss.” Mary walked to the kitchen to grab a

  bottle of beer for herself and joined Tom back in the

  living room. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

  “The police report shows that you came home

  around seven o’clock in the evening and found Shannon

  Brinkley collapsed on the bathroom floor.”

  “If you already know that, what do you want to

  know from me, Lieutenant?”

  “In the original report you said that you were

  coming home from work, but you work night shift.”

  “That’s correct, but someone called in sick and I

  was asked to switch shifts.”

  “What did you think when you first found Shannon,

  Ms. Townsend?”

  “I thought she had slipped on the wet floor and

  maybe bumped her head.”

  “And instead?”

  “Instead I found an empty box of pills and I knew

  she had tried to kill herself.”

  What sort of pills were they?”

  “I think they were over-the-counter sleeping aids.”

  Did Ms. Brinkley have trouble sleeping at times?

  Did she typically take sleeping pills?”

  “Sometimes, when she was working nights and had

  to sleep during the day.”

  “I see. Can you think of a reason why Ms. Brinkley

  would want to die?”

  Mary Townsend laughed bitterly. “After finding her

  note, I have wondered if Shannon was the person who

  killed Tracey, and if she did, it is possible that she might

  have felt guilty afterwards.”

  “Is there anything else aside from the note that

  would give you reason to think Ms. Brinkley is guilty of

  murdering her friend?”

  “She took my car that night, and she brought it back

  with mud in the undercarriage and a dent in the fender. I

  took her car to go to work, so I didn’t find out until the

  next day when she came back and said that she got lost

  and ended up on a country road. Of course I knew she

  was lying and we got into an argument.”

  “So why didn’t you report that to the police?”

  Mary shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t like cops.

  They’re trouble.”

  “I understand, Ms. Townsend, but do you know that

  withholding information during an investigation is a

  crime?”

  “Don’t play that game with me, Sherlock. You are

  not going to intimidate me so easily. I didn’t do anything

  wrong and I am helping you right now. Take it or leave

  it.”

  Tom decided to change the line of questioning.

  “What did you do when you realized she had tried to kill

  herself?”

  “I called 9-1-1.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look at Ms. Brinkley’s

  room?”

  “Actually I do, Lieutenant. Shannon’s room is also

  my room, and I need to go back to sleep. Unless you

  have a search warrant, I am kindly asking you to leave.”

  “Very well,” Tom said standing up, “I will need you

  to come to the police station for an affidavit. We will

  need to record what you just told me. We will also need

  to analyze your car for possible evidence.”

  “Shannon left a suicide note. I think what she wrote

  speaks for itself.”

  “Why would Shannon want to kill Tracey, Ms.

  Townsend?”

  “Because Tracey stole something that was very

  important to Shannon, Lieutenant.”

  “Really? What was that?”

  “Her reputation.”

  “How so?”

  “Shannon grew up in a very strict religious family

  who would not accept her gay lifestyle. Tracey went to

  Shannon’s family and told them of her relationship with

  me.”

  “Why would Tracey do that?”

  “Because Tracey didn’t like me, and she would have

  done anything to get me out of the picture, even if it

  meant that Shannon would lose everyone she loves.”

  “Why do you think Tracey didn’t like you, Ms.

  Townsend?”

  “Because the man Tracey claims was stalking her is

  my brother.”

  #

  No word from Tom. This had never happened

  before. Not that they fought often, but anytime they

  argued over something, Tom was usually ready to kiss

  and make up within the hour. Something was different

  this time, and Kathy couldn’t help feeling anguished,

  knowing all too well that lack of communication was

  the beginning of the end for most relationships. She

  tried to call him at the police station several times and

  was directed to his voice mail, so she tried his mobile

  phone but got no answer there either – was he just busy,

  or was he still so mad that he couldn’t talk to her? The

  mere thought of losing
Tom was eviscerating, and Kathy

  felt lost.

  She heard the phone ring and jumped – the caller ID

  displayed ‘unknown name, unknown number’ on the

  screen, so it probably wasn’t Tom, but she picked it up

  any way.

  “Hello?”

  Static was all she could hear on the other end of the

  line.

  “Hello…who is this?”

  No answer. Kathy felt the hair on her arms sticking

  up, her first thought that Tom was maybe in trouble

  somewhere and he couldn’t talk. Panic overtook her.

  “Tom, is that you? Please say something!”

  She heard a click, and the line went dead. She dialed

  star-sixty-nine to call back, but since the call was

  anonymous it could not be traced or redialed. She

  waited for the phone to ring again, and every fiber of her

  being was on alert. What would she do if something

  happened to Tom? She couldn’t bear the thought; she

  stood up and furiously paced the room to get rid of the

  excess energy in her body. She couldn’t stand feeling

  this way, so she called the station again. The information

  desk picked up by the third ring.

  “Hello, this is Kathy Spencer. Is Tom Lackey in?”

  “I’m sorry Ms. Spencer, he left early this morning

  and he hasn’t returned yet. Would you like me to

  connect you to his voice mail?”

  “No, thank you. May I speak to Sergeant Parker?”

  “I’m sorry, he is out also.”

  “Did they leave together?”

  “No Ma’am, not that I know of. Each of them took

  their own cars.”

  By the time she hung up the phone she was a

  nervous wreck. Tom typically turned his phone off if he

  was in the middle of an interview but he regularly

  turned it back on and returned calls after he was

  finished. Why didn’t he return her calls?

  Sitting there was driving her crazy, the ghosts of her

  failed marriage to Andy coming once again to haunt her.

  That’s how things started falling apart for the two of

  them…and what if something happened to Tom? How

  could she live with herself knowing that the last time

  she saw him she didn’t even tell him she loved him?

  The moment that thought entered her mind she

  banished it quickly. What was wrong with her? Tom

  wasn’t Andy, and nothing had happened to him. But

  then, who had called a little while ago?

  She was so taken by her thoughts that she didn’t

  realize another storm was approaching, but when the

  wind coming in from the open window blew a few

  magazines off the table in her waiting area, she hurried

  to close the window and pick up what had fallen. One of

  the magazines was open facedown on the floor, and

  when Kathy picked it up, she noticed the title of the

  article: “Can Abandoned Children Ever Trust Again?”

  Her heart skipped a beat – there seemed to be an

  almost eerie connection to the card inside the photo

  album that had fallen off the bookshelf the day before…

  mothers abandoning their children, trust, pain…why had

  these two similar items fallen within the last twenty-four

  hours? Was there a link to them? The strange phone call

  flashed through her mind…Tracey, was that you

  calling? She closed her eyes for a moment and took a

  cleansing breath. Maybe Tom was right – maybe she

  was losing her mind.

  #

  “Jack Little is your brother?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant, he is my half-brother.”

  “Do you know of his whereabouts?”

  Mary Townsend shook her head. “Nope. He left

  town a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Did he leave before or after Tracey’s murder?”

  “Whoa…wait a minute, Sherlock…you don’t think

  Jack did it, do you?”

  “Jack Little had a relationship with Tracey

  Newman, and from what I’ve heard, it wasn’t a loving

  one.”

  “Jack loved Tracey, but he couldn’t stand the fact

  that she was running around behind his back. He

  wouldn’t hurt her, I assure you; Jack wouldn’t hurt a fly.

  Maybe you should look at some of the other men she

  was sleeping with if you don’t believe what I am telling

  you.”

  “Men? Do you know who they are?”

  “Brad Johnson was one. He is a complete loser and

  a drug addict. Tracey was getting dope for him. She

  decided to cut him off when she got busted at work, and

  he didn’t like that.”

  “Who else?”

  “Who knows?” Mary hissed under her breath,

  “Tracey was a slut. There is no telling who else she was

  sleeping with.”

  “Do you have any other family in town, Ms.

  Townsend? Maybe one of your relatives knows where

  your brother is?”

  “No. Jack and I only had each other. Our mother

  was like Tracey: a cheap whore who slept with

  everybody. The state removed us from her custody when

  we were little because she was caught up in some drug

  affair and went to jail. We lived with her mother for a

  while, God bless her soul, and we went to foster families

  after she died.”

  #

  Alexis peeked in her parents’ room and sighed in

  relief when she saw them both deeply asleep. She

  needed to talk to Lily again, and since she left home,

  Lily visited less and less. Alexis felt alone. She liked

  Kathy a lot, but she was worried that her parents were

  going to become suspicious if she called her too often,

  so she spent most of her time laying on her bed

  pretending to read the same magazine she brought along

  for the trip. No matter how much she loved Justin

  Bieber, even his smiling photos weren’t enough to make

  her feel better at this point.

  She closed the door separating the two rooms as

  quietly as she could, and went to lay down on her own

  bed. As always, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply

  to still her body. It wasn’t long before Lily announced

  her presence.

  “Hi Alexis. Can you play today?”

  Alexis’s face was sad. “No, I’m afraid not. We can’t

  wake up Mom and Dad, but I was wondering if we can

  talk for a while. I’ve missed you, Lily.”

  Lily smiled. “I have missed you too. It’s boring

  where I am without you. There are no kids to play with.

  Well…actually there is one little boy, William, but he is

  too little, and he is always crying for his mother. He is

  not much fun to be around.”

  Alexis’s eyes widened. “Really? Where is his

  mom?”

  “He doesn’t know. He has been looking for her for a

  while, but he hasn’t found her yet. Someone told him

  she is looking for him too, but they haven’t found each

  other yet.”

  “That’s terrible! Poor kid…and poor mom!”

  “Yes, it is pretty sad, but that’s how things are

  sometimes. He thinks his mom abandoned him, and he

  is angry and upset, and his mom would do anything to

 
connect with him and make him happy.”

  “But why did they get separated?”

  “It’s complicated, Alexis. And I am not too sure of

  the details. People get separated all the time, and the

  worst thing is that each side blames the other for the

  separation, when in reality everyone had reasons to

  behave certain ways.”

  Alexis looked at Lily with a puzzled look on her

  face. “I’m not sure I am following you, Lily. What

  ways?”

  “Never mind, it is not important any more. What

  counts is Tracey. Did your mom and dad make

  arrangements for her body?”

  “Yes. I think we are leaving soon to take her body

  home.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “I am not sure…I think it is still at the morgue.

  They don’t tell me much – they think I’m too young to

  understand certain things.”

  “I’m not surprised. Well, can we play now?”

  “We can’t, I told you. Mom and Dad are sleeping.

  They are already furious enough that I continue telling

  them about you.”

  “Then stop telling them! And you are as boring as

  William today. I need to go.”

  “Wait, Lily! Don’t leave!”

  Lily didn’t answer. Alexis felt a cool breeze pass by

  her, and suddenly she was alone again. Lily didn’t like it

  too much when they couldn’t play.

  Chapter 11

  “Lackey, I think I hit the jackpot.”

  “What do you mean, Parker? I’m not in the mood

  for word games.” There were several reasons why Tom

  was irritated today, one of them being his state of affairs

  with Kathy. Tom had been through the coals with his

  first wife and he remembered their arguments – fights,

  he should call them – all too well. He and Kathy never

  really argued before, and he didn’t know what to do

  with this turn of events. He respected her point of view,

  yet he couldn’t allow her to cloud his better judgment

  with stories of ghosts and imaginary friends who lurked

  in the shadows. The unsettled atmosphere in his

  relationship, however, was not the only thing that was

  bothering him: Mary Townsend and her abusive ways

  bothered him. And, he thought, if Shannon really had

  killed her best friend, what did that say about his

  instincts as a detective? The thought that he felt

  protective over a potential cold-hearted killer made him

  feel foolish. Had the cute little brunette really played

  him like that? The letter she left was typed, so it was

 

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