A Deadly Discovery

by J. C. Kenney

  One thing was beyond dispute. I needed to take another long look at my time line. Even if I accepted the premise that Ronald Spade was the murderer, it was physically impossible for him to have committed it on or around the time of Valerie’s disappearance.

  So, if he did take Valerie’s life and used the same rope that was found under the trailer to do it, when did it happen? Did he abduct her and keep her prisoner somewhere? Or did she leave town and fall prey to Spade upon her return?

  I didn’t know Ronald Spade personally. By reputation, I knew him as a creep who had a thing for teenage girls. I’d never heard of him being violent, though. Things like abduction and murder didn’t fit his profile. He was less a wolflike predator and more a wandering coyote looking to capitalize on an opportunity that might come his way.

  No. Too many puzzle pieces would have to find a home before I decided Spade was the guy. There was still much investigating to be done.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I completed the ride home without breaking my pedaling cadence as I rolled past the accident site. I leaned my bike against the wall outside my apartment door, and all of a sudden it was like my lungs were able to fully expand for the first time in ages. My eyes even teared up. Evidently kissing the pavement had shaken me up more emotionally than I’d realized.

  “Hey, girl. I’m home,” I said once I was in the apartment. “In the ISO 9000 category, it’s been one day since your mama’s last cycling wreck.”

  The reference to manufacturing safety was lost on my cat, who was an expert on leisure. She gave me a little meh and went to her food bowl and stared at me. It was her classic maneuver. She was waiting for me to make what she knew was the right decision. In this case, the right decision was to give her a reward in celebration of completing my trip intact.

  “Fine. You win.” I scratched her spine as I shook a few treats onto her dining mat. She closed her eyes and started licking at the air as my fingers gently rubbed her shoulder blades. A few seconds later, she started purring.

  The mini-motorboat sound made me smile. Some say that a cat’s purr helps heal injuries in both felines and humans. I didn’t know if I bought that story. What I did know was that Ursi’s purring made me smile and feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  That was healing enough for me.

  To make sure I didn’t forget any details from my excursion, I copied the notes I’d taken on my phone into my case notebook. I also added some facts, and a few questions, to my time line. With each question, the enormity of my task seemed to grow.

  Despite the progress I’d made, how could I possibly solve a twenty-year-old murder? Especially without help or cooperation from the police? I was no Jane Marple, after all.

  Finding the rope had all been the result of acting on a hunch. Nothing more. Relying on guesswork wouldn’t get me very far. I needed facts.

  At best it was an almost insurmountable task. At worst? I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. I didn’t want to consider the worst.

  I’d promised Connie I’d help her. And I was doing just that. I’d found the rope. The rope was real progress. Now, I had to hope forensic analysis would confirm a match with the fibers found around Valerie’s neck.

  In the meantime, I’d keep forging ahead.

  Once I finished working on my notes, I poured myself a tall glass of iced tea and read the queries Calypso had saved for me. When I was finished, I sent her a text congratulating her on a job well done.

  Then I called her. “Since you did so well on the queries, I have another job for you.”

  “I already have two jobs, Boss. I don’t need a third, especially since I’m on my way to my other one.”

  “Don’t think of it as a job. Think of it as helping an author get one step closer to her dream of becoming a published author. Calypso Bosley, Dream Maker.”

  “When you put it that way. I’m in. What say you, O great taskmaster?”

  I laughed. She was such a trip. “I love the Canadian train heist query. Would you contact the author and ask for the complete manuscript?”

  “Totally, dude. That’s an awesome story.”

  I had to hold the phone away from my ear. Calypso’s excited shouting was deafening.

  “Let’s dial back the enthusiasm for now. A polished first three chapters does not a novel make. Often, a new author will spend most of his or her time on those first chapters since that’s what agents initially accept. The proof of a good storyteller will be in how well the manuscript holds up.”

  “Fascinating,” Calypso said in a deep Mr. Spock–type voice. Then she returned to normal. “Gotcha, Wise One. I’ll send her an email as soon as I get off work tonight. Bosley out.”

  Calypso’s sign-off made me laugh again. It was a much-needed emotional release after all the stress of recent days. With my head in a good place and my body feeling better, I plopped onto the couch to make sure the royalty payments had gone out without any problems.

  Ursi leapt from her window perch to the arm of couch, strolled along the back, and came to a stop behind me. A few seconds later, she placed her front paws on my right shoulder and started purring.

  “Well, hello there.” I looked at her. “Are you here on business or for pleasure?”

  She bopped her nose against mine, then dropped onto the seat next to me and curled herself into a ball with her back against my thigh. In no time, she was fast asleep, snoring like she was a tiny saw working through a block of wood.

  I chuckled. My kitty was the greatest in the world.

  A little while later, I went to the kitchen to figure out something for dinner. The shelves were woefully bare. My provisions consisted of an almost empty half gallon of skim milk, two eggs, leftover ramen in a plastic container, one bagel and a tub of butter. The freezer didn’t have much either.

  While grim, the situation presented the opportunity to parlay it into dinner with my honey. I texted Brent to ask him if he wanted to get together. He responded within a minute, which was nice. What wasn’t so nice was his reply. He needed to spend the weekend working on his thesis, but he promised to make it up to me next week.

  Such was my love life.

  When Brent accepted the position of Library Director, I made it clear I had my own life to lead and expected him to do the same. He was also going to have to find his own place to live. I was thrilled that our long-distance-relationship days were over, but I valued my independence.

  My apartment was more than just my home. It was also my workplace and gym. I didn’t want to give any of that up by taking on a roommate. Even if it was a roommate with benefits.

  Besides, Brent’s dog Sammy was too big to be cooped up in an apartment. The golden retriever was a wonderful dog who’d even made friends with Ursi. It warmed my heart when Sammy visited to see him curled up in his doggy bed with Ursi right by his side.

  Over the long term, a big, energetic dog living in an apartment, with wood floors to boot, was an untenable situation. I hadn’t bothered asking Renee about it. My lease already carried an extra monthly charge for Ursi, and I had to beg Renee to get that. A dog simply wasn’t going to live anywhere in her building.

  Since I had no interest in breaking my lease, Brent had found a two-bedroom bungalow with a fenced yard a few blocks from the library. I almost choked when he told me how much the rent was. Then again, there was no way he was going to part with Sammy.

  Something told me his weekend of thesis work was going to include some board gaming. His house had become the go-to location for a group of friends who enjoyed Numenera and other games featuring oddly shaped dice as much as he did.

  I was thrilled he’d made friends. Admittedly, a little less so when I wanted him to cook for me. That was my shortcoming, not his, so I moved to plan B.

  “I’m off for a grocery run, girl. Do you want anything?” I scribbled out a shopping list.

  If I didn’t stick to the list, I’d end up with too many things to carry on my bike. It enforced a type of discipline my wai
stline was thankful for. Ice cream and cookies stayed on the store’s shelf, while fresh fruit and frozen vegetables made it home.

  When Ursi chose not to reply, I checked the cabinet where I kept her supplies. Good. She still had plenty of kitty litter. The litter I bought came in large plastic containers that didn’t weigh much but took up a lot of room. I had to be strategic when I made a purchase, as that meant I got little else on those trips.

  I hardly minded, though. A few extra trips to the store were totally worth not having the expense of owning, insuring, and registering a car. It was another way I could support the local economy instead of ordering online from a remote big box store, too.

  A couple of minutes later, I kissed Ursi on the ear, grabbed my reusable grocery bags, and headed out the door. On the ride to the store, I had a brain blast.

  Dak Middleton.

  He worked in the meat department. If he was there, I could corner him. My legs mashed down on the pedals as I picked up speed. All of a sudden, this was a two-for-one trip.

  Rushing Creek Grocers wasn’t the kind of store one typically found in the city. With dozens of aisles offering everything from ten brands of coffee to live lobsters in a tank, that kind of place made my brain hurt. I had nothing against those stores.

  I just didn’t like shopping there.

  Everything I needed could be found on the shelves and in the cooling units of Rushing Creek’s compact grocery store. As a bonus, if there was an item I wanted, I could ask the owners to make a special order. For me, it was the best of both worlds.

  A lime green bike rack was stationed by the store’s entrance. As I locked my bike to it, I got a craving for a margarita. I laughed at the effect of subliminal suggestion and made a mental note to add a lime to my grocery list.

  To have it with the chicken fajitas I now wanted for dinner.

  Once inside, I grabbed a cart and took a right-hand turn, bypassing the fresh produce. Groceries could wait. At the end of the aisle, I was hit with the mouthwatering aroma of rotisserie chicken. Maybe I would have some of that instead of fajitas.

  “Focus, Cobb.” I shook my head as I pushed the cart toward the meat counter.

  Luck was with me. Dak was slicing some deli ham for Jack Rogers. We got caught up over the rhythmic rum, rum, rum of the meat slicer.

  “Good work on the Borus donation.” He gave me a smile that made my heart flutter even though I was happily involved in a relationship.

  “Thanks. I apologize if I stepped on anyone’s toes for not running it by the committee. I didn’t want to give Ted a chance to change his mind.”

  He waved my mea culpa away. “That’s what I like about you. You’re not afraid to make a decision. The committee needs that.”

  “Needs what?” Dak gave him the ham, which was wrapped in white butcher paper.

  “Allie’s decisiveness.” He told Dak about the donation.

  The butcher’s ruddy complexion glowed as he let out a low whistle. “Nice. Think you could get something like that for the blues festival?”

  “One committee’s enough for me, thanks. I’ll put in a good word for you, though.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Jack gave me a fist bump. “I gotta go. Be ready to give a full report at next week’s committee meeting.”

  “What can I do for you?” Dak asked after Jack took off. He was smiling, but his gray eyes conveyed wariness. It was a look I’d been on the receiving end of more times than I could count.

  “Half a pound of roast beef, please, sliced thin.” I took a deep breath. “I’d also like to talk to you about Valerie Briggs.”

  His smile morphed into a grimace.

  “I heard Val’s mom hired you.” He put on a fresh pair of gloves to prepare my order. “Guess it was only a matter of time until you decided to track me down.”

  “Is that a yes, then?”

  He ran the meat through the machine and placed the slices on an electronic scale. When the readout got to eight ounces, he wrapped it up.

  “I heard the police found some rope under Ron Spade’s trailer. That it might be the same rope that was used to kill her. Is that true?”

  “Yes. The police will need to test the rope before any conclusions can be drawn, though.”

  Dak nodded, then wrote something on the package before giving it to me. “My shift’s over in a half hour. Meet me in the parking lot. I drive a silver SUV.”

  Fortunately, my grocery list was short, so I breezed through the store formulating what I wanted to ask. The problem was I had milk and some yogurt, so I couldn’t let the interview go too long. My saddle bags were fantastic, but they weren’t designed to keep things cold. Oh, well. I’d deal with it.

  Since the grocery store isn’t very big, the parking lot was accordingly pint-sized. The problem was that of the dozen vehicles within my sight, four were silver SUVs. To someone like me, who didn’t own a car, they all looked identical.

  To avoid the embarrassment of aimlessly wandering around the parking lot like an extra in a zombie film, I packed the groceries in my saddlebags, then rearranged them. Twice. It was a pathetic attempt to look busy, but I figured it was better than standing around looking bored. Or worse, helpless.

  Dak saved me from my predicament by strolling out of the grocery store and waving at me. As I trotted to catch up to him, he took a drag on a vaping pipe, then blew out a huge cloud of white smoke. To my surprise, there was no noxious smell to accompany the cloud.

  “What do you have in that? Seems pretty mild.”

  “Water.” He took another drag and blew the steam away from me. “I’ve been trying to quit for ten years. Vaping got me off cigarettes. I’m hoping the water’s my last step into a nicotine-free life.”

  “Hats off to you. Quitting smoking isn’t easy.” It couldn’t hurt to play nice with the man. He wasn’t a suspect. Yet.

  “Promised my wife I’d quit when she got pregnant with our first kid. I’m almost there, only twelve years later.” He laughed and came to a stop in front of an SUV with a shine that was near blinding when I looked straight at it.

  “Better late than never.” I cleared my throat. “I’m sure you’re busy, so I’ll cut to the chase. Do you mind telling me where you were the day Valerie disappeared?”

  “I was out in a tree stand deer hunting. It’s a Christmas Eve thing my family does. If anyone bags something that day, we donate the meat to a local shelter.”

  It was a tradition I’d never heard of, but I appreciated the sentiment of doing something for the less fortunate during the holiday season.

  “Any luck?”

  “My dad got one. He was a wizard with a bow in his day. Anyway, when I got home there was a message from Val for me. She wanted to borrow my car. I figured it was the perfect time to give her the present I got for her. I got cleaned up and drove over to her place. When I got there, she was already . . .”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he looked away.

  “She meant a great deal to you.” It was a manipulative statement that made me feel like a jerk, but I needed information.

  “Yeah, well, we dated, so I guess you could say that.”

  “Do you remember the time she left the message?”

  “Ten o’clock. We got in from the field around three. It was a little after four when I got to her place.”

  “Twenty years on and you remember those times pretty well. That’s impressive.”

  “Not really. I told the same thing to the cops and reporters about ten times.” He took another hit from his vape device. “You want to know why I still remember that day like it was yesterday? Not a week goes by when I’m not reminded of her. And how I wasn’t there when she needed me. If I had been, maybe she’d still be alive.”

  It was a heavy burden to carry for so long. One I wouldn’t wish on anybody.

  Unless it was all an act.

  “I heard your relationship with her was kind of stormy. Would you agree with that?”

  “Sure, we had
our ups and downs. We were teenagers. What would you expect? Dating Val was like trying to corral a wild horse. Some days, she was kind, trusting. Other days she was skittish and would rather claw you than hug you.”

  “Do you think that was due to her home life?”

  “Didn’t help. I mean, her old man was horrible. He never hit her, but he’d cut her down in a second with his words. Her mom tried, but she could keep the peace only so much. Val got back at him the only way she knew how, by rebelling.”

  Dak’s phone chimed. “I need to pick up my kids.”

  I thanked him for his time. “I appreciate your candor. Just one more thing. Any idea what happened to her?”

  “She thought she was invincible. For my money, she probably mouthed off to the wrong person. And it cost her her life.”

  Speaking her mind shouldn’t be a reason to have her life taken from her. Dak’s assessment only strengthened my resolve to figure out who that person was.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My chat with Dak had me troubled. He seemed believable enough, but I regretted not thinking to ask him if they were together when she disappeared. If they were together, then it made perfect sense that she’d call him. He was her boyfriend, after all.

  What if they were broken up at the time, though? After all, Bobcat had admitted to hitting on her just a few weeks before she disappeared. Just because Dak claimed to have a present for her didn’t make it true. Calling an ex to ask a favor sounded like an act of desperation. And another thing: If they really were apart, had their split been amicable? If not, why would she call him?

  And there was something else. Dak said he’d been in a tree stand. Could anyone verify that? What if he’d paid Valerie a visit, been part of something awful, and returned to the woods in time to cover his tracks? Many questions unanswered, indeed.

  • • •

  After a night spent doing more tossing and turning than actual sleeping, I texted Sloane in the morning to see if she was available to help with the case. Within a minute, my phone’s ringer went off.