by Ann Simas
Vaughn closed the jewelry box and put it down on the desk. He moved quickly to the file cabinet and withdrew a folder, which he handed to Andi.
She opened it and found a laser print of the Art Deco pin. It had been photographed from every angle, had a description, and an insurance value of two thousand dollars. “It’s beautiful.”
“We had a jeweler inspect the clasp. It wouldn’t have failed.”
“Maybe Sherry was wearing it on a lapel that day, on a blazer or something.”
Vaughn’s gaze shot upward. “I’m going to ask Dotty if she remembers what Sherry had on. Be right back.”
Andi studied the photo sheet in greater detail. It would be a travesty if Vaughn never got it back, since Sherry had loved it so much.
He returned shortly and said, “She had on a sleeveless dress, but because it was cool that morning, but she wore a bolero-type jacket over it. Dotty remembers distinctly that the pin was on the jacket.”
“Sherry might have taken it off if she got too warm. Dawna could have easily removed the pin if Sherry used the restroom or took a call or somehow was distracted.”
“I would love to get my hands around that woman’s throat right about now.”
“Remember you don’t want your kids to be fatherless,” Andi reminded him.
“You’re right. Know any good hit men?”
Andi gave him the evil eye.
He put up a hand to ward it off. “I’m not serious, but it does make me feel better, just thinking about her getting payback.”
“I’m sure it does.” She gave him a moment. “Shall we move on?”
He nodded, somewhat reluctantly, it seemed to her.
“Just to give you some background, I found three people Dawna eulogized at their funerals. One was Dr. Harold Love, the dentist she bought her practice from. The others were Merry Stiles and Amber Owen. This morning, a Smokie identified herself as Merry Stiles’s mother. She told me Sherry would fill me in on the details.”
Vaughn sank back down into his chair, his face blanched. “And did she?”
Andi nodded. “Merry worked for Dawna. Her husband Dirk was the focus of Dawna’s attentions before you.”
“Jesus.” He grabbed the side of his head, rubbing his fingers roughly against his scalp, obviously trying to get his emotions under control. “Shouldn’t Jack be here, discussing this with us?”
“He should be, but he’s mad at me right now.”
Vaughn narrowed his eyes on her. “Why?”
“I made an appointment to see Dawna about a bogus tooth ailment. He didn’t like it.”
“Jesus, Andi, the bitch killed my wife and who knows how the hell many others. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking,” she responded quietly, “that I hear voices and one of them told me she’d been murdered. I was thinking that maybe I could find out something that would help the police so they can get a damned search warrant and find Dawna’s secret stash of mercury that she uses to kill people. I was thinking that I wished to God I hadn’t been blessed with this cursed ability, all right? But since I was, I’d better damned well do something about it!”
“Did you tell Jack that?”
“Are you kidding? Once he heard I made the appointment, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise to explain why or what I had planned.” She slammed down the lid of her laptop. “He’s as stubborn as a two-headed mule.”
“What do you have planned?”
“I’m going to tell her I have tooth sensitivity. It’s noninvasive, doesn’t require x-rays, and is usually resolved with fluoride. I’m scheduled for a half-hour. I should be able to snoop a little bit during that time. My dentist told me he leaves the room frequently because he juggles several patients at once. This should be a piece of cake.”
“Your dentist is not a homicidal maniac.”
“No, but he says they all operate the same way he does, seeing more than one patient at a time.”
Vaughn stood and began to pace the room. “We need to call Jack.”
“No, we don’t.”
He must have noted the stubborn set of her chin. “Do you have a plan? Aside from your asinine decision to make an appointment with Dawna?”
For some reason, when Vaughn chastised her, she didn’t take offense like she had with Jack. What was up with that? I thought we could do a little research on the other women, maybe contact their husbands, see if they can tell us what, if anything, was missing from their wives’ personal effects.
“That’s not a good idea, Andi.”
“Why not?”
“You’d have to tell them why you want to know and that would necessitate telling them you think their wives were murdered. I don’t know Jack all that well, but I know how I’d respond to you playing detective on your own. I’d skin you alive.”
Despite all of Jack’s warnings, Andi hadn’t considered her idea from an cop’s perspective. She slouched in her chair and folded her arms over her chest in a funk. “You have a point.” She rummaged in her purse for her phone and hit the speed dial she’d assigned to Jack. “It’s me,” she said unnecessarily, since it would show up on Jack’s read out.
“What do you want?” he asked gruffly. Or maybe he was snarling.
“I’m at Vaughn’s. We’ve just discovered some new information and we—he—thinks you should be here.”
Dead silence met her statement.
“I know you’re still there, Jack.”
“Andi, I swear, if I have to take you into protective custody and put you in a locked cell, I’ll do it.”
“Bring your handcuffs,” she said and disconnected.
Vaughn laughed, further infuriating her.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re a lot like Sherry.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. No one could make me angrier. No one could make me happier. You and Jack have a bright future ahead of you.”
Andi grunted and turned her attention to the laptop. “If you don’t mind, I’ll get to work while we wait for His Lordship to arrive.”
CHAPTER 25
As quickly asJack arrived, he must have been close by.
Andi returned his hello, but otherwise ignored him and resumed her online searching.
Vaughn offered him a drink and they both settled on a Makers’ Mark, straight.
“What’s going on?” Jack asked.
“Have a seat,” Vaughn said. “I’ll fill you in.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Andi saw Jack’s hesitation, knew he wanted to hear this directly from her, if for no other reason than to torture her or to rebuke her again. She forced herself to look up and give him a fake smile.
His response threw her momentarily. She had expected his expression to be angry or tense, but instead, he barely shook his head, sighed as if in defeat, and turned away, his broad shoulders slightly slumped.
“Come join us, Andi,” Vaughn said, as if he were talking to one of his children. His command brooked no argument.
Andi hit Control-P on her keyboard to print, then pushed away from the desk and took the seat opposite them.
“I’ll tell Jack what I know about the missing pin. You can fill in the blanks,” Vaughn said.
Andi grudgingly nodded, hoping there wouldn’t be any damned blanks to fill in.
Jack listened intently, asking Vaughn frequent questions. When he finally looked at her, he asked, “Who qualifies as the ‘old soul?’”
“According to the Smokie, it’s Merry Stiles.” She cocked her head at him, dying to ask how he intended to proceed without giving up to the husbands that their loved ones may have been murdered. She’d bite off her tongue before she asked.
Jack picked up his glass and drained what little remained. He pulled out his narrow cop notebook and began making notes.
“Seems like Merry Stiles’s husband is the starting point,” Vaughn said. “Not only did Sherry mention her, but she worked for Dawna.”
&n
bsp; “I agree,” Jack said. He glanced at Andi. “What’s his name?”
“Dirk. Amber’s husband is Eli.” She waited until he finished writing. “Do you want more information?”
“Depends on what you did to find it,” he said, his dig clearly meant to maim.
“I used my fingers on the keyboard and searched the Internet. You wanna arrest my fingers, maybe take them into protective custody?”
Andi could have sworn the start of a grin tugged at Jack’s lips before he clenched his jaw. He did not respond verbally. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at her, which she took as a sign to continue.
She looked down at her own notepad and began to read from a new list she’d made, going slow enough that Jack could take notes: Kimberly Peck, died October 14, 2011. Dr. Harold Love, died October 30, 2011. Paul Stimack, died January 3, 2012. Amber Owen, died August 4, 2012. Merry Stiles, died June 30, 2013. Sherry Hemmer, died September 5, 2014. It seemed Dawna had a taste for death.
Jack tapped his pen against his notebook. He looked up and Andi could almost hear his wheels spinning. “Who’s Kimberly Peck?”
She shot him a self-satisfied smirk. “Kimberly Peck, as best I can tell, is the first victim.”
“What?” Jack barked.
Vaughn leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, frowning.
Andi rifled through her folder and pulled out the copy of Doc Love’s obituary. Her eyes skimmed over the text. “‘Dr. Love was preceded in death by his wife, Constance, his daughter, Helen Love Peck, and his granddaughter, Kimberly Peck.’ No other survivors are listed.”
Jack reached over and plucked the piece of paper from her hands and began to read. When he looked up, he said, “I don’t suppose you have the obit for the daughter?”
Andi took the top sheet from her folder and handed it to him.
Jack quickly scanned the article. “The daughter died from cancer in 2009. She lived in Vancouver, Washington, with her daughter, Kimberly. Her husband died in the Gulf War. Shit, Doc Love did have an heir.”
Andi pulled another piece of paper from the folder. Jack read it, then passed it to Vaughn.
Kimberly Peck, 24, of Vancouver, Washington died on October 14, 2011 as a result of injuries sustained in a single-vehicle crash. Peck graduated from the University of Washington and worked as a lumber buyer at Jax Lumber Products in Portland, Oregon. She is preceded in death by her parents, Miles and Helen Peck. She is survived by her grandfather, Harold Love, DDS, of Edgerton, Oregon, and her fiancé, Michael Swan, of Portland. Services will be held at Columbia Presbyterian Church at 10:00 a.m., October 18. Contributions may be made to Make-a-Wish Foundation.
Andi produced two other pieces of paper. “I’m assuming you can get the police report on the crash.”
Jack quickly scanned the articles. “This just keeps getting worse.”
“What is it?” Vaughn asked.
“Two articles about the crash. Police found evidence of brake-tampering and also paint from another vehicle on the rear of Kimberly’s car, in two places.”
“Someone drove that poor girl off the road,” Vaughn said.
“My money’s on Dawna,” Andi said. “With Kimberly out of the way, that took care of Doc Love’s heirs, and cleared the path for her to own the practice free and clear when he died.” She turned back to Jack. “His obituary says he had ‘services’—no mention of cremation. Maybe his body can be exhumed to—”
“We can’t just go ’round exhuming bodies,” Jack said impatiently.
“Surely a judge would issue—”
“Judges need more than what we’ve got so far.”
“You haven’t talked to Dirk Stiles yet,” she reminded him. “I bet if you ask him if there’s a piece of Merry’s jewelry missing—”
“For God’s sake, Andi, she died over a year ago.”
“It’s worth a shot! Besides, have you forgotten Dawna’s ex-husband also died and left her everything?”
Jack glared at her. “I suppose you have him in that folder, too.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” She fanned out the pages and found the one she was looking for. “Another unexplained car crash. Good weather, clear though windy day, no alcohol involved. Oregon State Patrol responded. I’m sure you can get the investigation report.”
“Maybe you should talk to the LT about joining our team, J.B.”
Andi searched his expression and his tone for sarcasm and found neither. For the first time all evening, he was smiling at her. “If I’d wanted to be a cop, I’d have taken criminal justice classes instead of computer science.”
He shrugged. “Just sayin’.”
Vaughn slumped back in his chair. “So, we think she killed three people, for sure, all to ensure she got to keep her dental practice.”
“By all accounts, Paul Stimack did well as a venture capitalist and my dentist told me she made beaucoup improvements to the practice after her debt to Doc was cancelled. Paul died less than four months after Doc Love.”
“Criminy, bells are going off like crazy in my head! Sherry and I went to a shindig at the country club once, when we were down here for Christmas. It just occurred to me that I met Stimack there. He was putting together a package for a new startup in Nevada. Some kind of energy breakthrough that didn’t involve blighting the landscape with windmills or loading buildings with solar panels. I was interested enough to ask for the prospectus, but I never got it.” He blew out a loud puff of air. “I guess I didn’t hear from him because the poor bastard was dead. Unbelievable.”
“What have you got on Owen and Stiles in that magic folder of yours?” Jack asked.
“Not much. They both had Facebook pages. Owen also had Twitter. Didn’t see much there of interest, but on the Stiles Facebook page, one of the last posts included a picture from a Fourth of July picnic Dawna hosted for her office staff. This is what Merry wrote.” She handed over the screen shot she’d printed out.
Boss chased husband (mine, not hers!!) around the yard the entire time. Caught him once. Ugly red lipstick a dead giveaway. Starting Monday, I’m looking for a new job! Dirk thinks it was funny. I don’t. NLOL. :(
“What does NLOL mean?” Jack asked.
“Not laughing out loud,” Vaughn said.
“What were you printing out earlier?”
Andi hopped up and retrieved two sheets off the laser printer. “These.” She placed the pages on the coffee table and the three of them examined them. “Merry Stiles.”
Vaughn was the first to speak. “She’s wearing the same necklace in every picture.”
“Angel wings,” Andi said. She raised her head and her gaze connected with Jack’s. “If you go talk to Dirk Stiles, I bet he’ll tell you the angel wings went missing sometime just before she died. They must have been important to her, if she wore the necklace every day.”
“I suppose you have contact info for Stiles in that folder of yours.”
“Of course. I also have info for Eli Owen. You have your work cut out for you, Jack.”
“Gee, thanks, Andi. I don’t know how I’ve managed without you all these years.”
“Me, either,” Andi responded, batting her eyelashes at him.
“You got anything else for me?” he asked.
Because Vaughn was a foot away, Andi didn’t respond verbally, but Jack must have read something in her eyes because his own flared with what she easily recognized as desire.
Vaughn straightened. “Hey, you two, get a room, will ya?”
Andi’s face flamed. She straightened and beelined for her laptop.
Jack picked up the papers she’d left behind and meticulously noted the addresses of Dirk Stiles and Eli Owen.
“Care for another Maker’s Mark?” Vaughn asked.
“No, thanks,” Jack said.
Andi logged off Facebook and shut down her laptop. “I need to be going.” She shoved her laptop into the carrying case and put the cord and mouse into the front pocket. “Thanks for dinner, Vaughn.”
She offered him half a shrug. “It’s nothing. Really.” She gathered up the loose papers and shoved them back into the file. “Here,” she said to Jack. “These are for you. I have another set at home.”
He stared in surprise at the folder. “Thanks, Andi.”
“Don’t mention it.” Her hormones and girl parts were raging something awful. She wanted Jack. Jack still wanted her. It wasn’t going to happen and the sooner she got away from him, the better. “I’ll give you a call Monday evening, Vaughn. Let you know how my appointment went.”
He nodded at her, his gaze traveling to Jack, then back to her. He winked and tilted his head ever so slightly in Jack’s direction. Andi’s chin when up a defiant half-inch. Jack was the one who yelled at her. He should make the first move. He should apologize.
Vaughn got to the door ahead of her and opened it.
Andi dug her keys out of her pocket.
“I’ll walk you out,” Jack said, close on her heels. He shook hands with Vaughn and thanked him for the drink.
Andi heard the door close behind them. She pointed her key at her VW Touareg and hit the clicker to unlock it. Jack opened the door for her and held it while she settled her laptop on the passenger seat then climbed in. She tried to pull the door closed, but he held it firmly.
“Pick you up at six-thirty?”
“Really?” Andi asked, exasperated. He still wanted to take her out the following evening?
“Yeah, really. Why?”
“The way you yelled at me….” She floundered. “Are you saying you’re not still mad at me?”
“I’d say I was irritated more than angry. You’re important to me, Andi. I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”
“What can happen at one stupid dental appointment?”
“That’s just it. With this psychopath in your mouth, who knows?”
CHAPTER 26
Saturday morning, Andi cleaned house and did her laundry, including changing her sheets. Just in case.
