Deadly Deception
by
Patricia H. Rushford
Deadly Deception
An Artisan Mystery
By
Patricia H. Rushford
Copyright 2016 by Patricia H. Rushford
Mysteriously Yours
Cover design by Patricia H. Rushford
License Notes
This book is an original work by Author Patricia H. Rushford. No form or part of this book has been previously published.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. With the exception of recognized historical figures, the characters in this novel are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Note from the Author
I write books, mostly mysteries, but I am basically an artist. Writing is a medium I use to create characters and plots, painting scenes with words and bringing them to life on the canvas of pages. A few years ago I developed the idea of writing a mystery series featuring artists who work in various fields, such as oil painting, watercolors, clay, quilting to name a few.
My first artisan mystery was published as a single romantic suspense, Strangers in the Night, which is available in e-book format through Guideposts. Though I didn’t sell my entire series at that time, I have never given up on the idea and have several more mysteries in various stages of completion.
Deadly Deception is the second novel published in my Artisan Mystery Series.
In Deadly Deceptionmy artist, Carolyn Hudson, finds herself in a compromising position when she awakensin a hotel room in a pool of blood. The dead man lying next to her is acclaimed politician, Adam Burke, who had, only a week earlier, commissioned her to paint his portrait. She has no idea how she got there. She only knows that she was drugged and soon learns she is the killer’s next victim. Carolyn must go into hiding and accept police protection. Still, nothing can prevent her from investigating on her own and clearing her name, even if it kills her.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
About the Author
Connect with Patricia
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Deadly Deception
By Patricia H Rushford
Chapter One
Carolyn Hudson woke with a pounding headache. Her body felt stiff and sore. Instead of her soft down pillow, she lay on something rough and hard. An odor she couldn’t identify seeped into her nostrils. Putrid, metallic—a smell so strong she could almost taste it. She struggled to open her eyes. And then wished she hadn’t.
The vacant blue stare of a dead man tore away clinging strands of slumber. She knew him. Adam Burke, the famous politician. The man everyone thought would become the next senator of Oregon.
A scream caught in her throat. Carolyn tried to push away from him. Her hands slipped on the bloody carpet. That’s when she noticed the gun. In her hand. She let go of the weapon and scooted back then managed to sit up. Nausea accosted her. She shivered from the cold. The pounding in her head intensified. Dozens of fragmented thoughts flooded her mind. How could Mr. Burke be dead? Why was she with him? How had she gotten here? Why had she been holding a gun?
The police. She had to call the police.
Memories of last night’s political fundraising gala at the Pacific Beach Resort returned in jagged pieces. Looking down she saw that the cream brocade evening gown she’d worn to the event was now torn and stained with blood.
Her breathing ragged, she pushed herself farther away from the body. Looking back at the bloodied carpet she saw her silhouette in reverse, beige against crimson. The gun laying there incriminating her. Had she killed him?
Impossible. This had to be a nightmare. She’d met Adam Burke the week before at a showing of her paintings at Lakeside Gallery. Burke had complimented her on her artistic abilities, bought one of her seascapes for $500 and then commissioned her to paint his portrait. He’d even written a check for a thousand dollars as a down payment. She’d been ecstatic. But now she had no idea what to think
“Oh, God, what am I doing here? What happened? Help me. Please, help me.”
Breath. Don’t Panic. She hauled in several deep breaths. Glancing around the room, she spotted her purse lying beside her coat on a king-sized bed. The need to escape overtook thoughts of calling the police. She shouldn’t be here. Why couldn’t she remember?
A knock on the door shot a bolus of terror through her veins. A moment later, she heard a click. The door opened. A man in a dark suit stepped inside. His piercing eyes narrowed into slits of condemnation as he looked her over and then shifted his gaze to Adam's body. The man looked familiar, but Carolyn couldn’t place him.
Michael Stedman sought to control his shock at seeing Carolyn Hudson on her knees leaning against the bed, her clothes torn and blood-stained. She was the last person he’d expected to see at a crime scene. True, he didn’t know her all that well—had recently met her at his new church a few weeks ago. He’d come close to asking her out. He blew out a harsh breath. That wasn’t about to happen any time soon. If ever.
The fear in her eyes and her disheveled appearance almost made him wish he could take her somewhere safe and warm and away from this horrendous scene. She seemed as much a victim as the man lying on the floor. She averted her eyes. Shame? Or something else. He pushed aside any compassion he might have felt and forced his attention to the crime scene.
“He’s dead.” Michael’s partner, Detective Doug Calhoun, moved away from the body.
Michael nodded. He’d known that the moment he entered the room. Adam Burke. No question as to the man’s identity. The guy had made his share of enemies. But he was, or had been one of Oregon’s more popular politicians. “We need to get our CSI people in here.”
“I’ll call them.” Doug pulled his cell out of his inside jacket pocket.
“And the Medical Examiner.” Michael nodded toward Carolyn. “Better get the EMTs too. This one isn’t looking too good.”
Michael stepped toward the Carolyn, intent on questioning her. His first instinct was to remove his jacket and place it around her shoulders. She was shivering and looked like she might be going into shock. She’s part of the crime scene, he reminded himself. Her eyes were glazed over as if she had been drinking or doing drugs.
“I…I didn’t. I don’t.” She started to get up and toppled back to the floor. He rushed t
o her side, felt for a pulse and found one. Weak and thready. He settled his jacket over her. It would have to be part of the evidence. He didn’t want to compromise the crime scene by pulling a blanket off the bed. Something else he noticed. The bed hadn’t been slept in.
“There’s a team on the way.” Calhoun stepped closer. “She okay?”
“Hard to say. I could be wrong, but I’m thinking she’s been drugged.”
“Huh.” Calhoun ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Nah. More than likely, she’s drunk. Maybe our future senator got a little too frisky and she shot him.”
Michael frowned. If she’d been anyone but Carolyn Hudson, he might be entertaining the same thoughts, but the woman he’d met and talked to at church didn’t fit the profile. Or was that wishful thinking on his part? Just because she went to church and headed up the singles group Bible study and sang in the choir didn’t mean she wouldn’t be involved in a crime. Michael couldn’t quite let the words prostitution or drugs describe her. Not yet at any rate.
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” he said. Truth was he didn’t know what to think. “Doesn’t do much good to speculate. We’ll need to let the evidence do the talking.”
Carolyn moaned and tried to sit up.
“Take it easy.” Michael eased her back down. “The medics will be here any minute.”
“Please help me.” Her eyes, blue and unfocused, fluttered open, then closed again. Michael’s heart clenched. He needed to focus, but more than that he had to stay objective. Carolyn was beautiful and the other night she’d seemed innocent and sweet, a refreshing change from so many women he’d met, including his ex-fiancé. He forced thoughts of Vickie from his head. Thinking about his ex-girlfriend helped him regain his objectivity. Women were not to be trusted. Period.
The EMTs burst into the room and within minutes, Carolyn lay on the gurney with an IV in her arm and sheets covering her and the stained evening gown. He examined the contents of her purse and provided the medics with an ID. This wasn’t the time to get into the fact that he knew her.
Barely knew her, he reminded himself. In fact, looking over the crime scene he wondered if he’d known her at all. He’d only lived in Pacific Beach for a couple of months and had moved here from the Minnesota. He knew nothing of her past. Like it or not, he was about to learn far more about Carolyn Hudson than he wanted to.
Carolyn kept her eyes closed during the trip to the hospital, partly because of the pounding in her head and partly because of the shame. She remembered now who the handsome young detective was. She’d met Michael at church and here he was, thinking she might be drugged or hung-over. She never touched alcohol or drugs. And the suggestion that she’d shot Mr. Burke because he’d made advances made no sense at all. The man was old enough to be her father. And yet the gun had been in her hand.
Why had she even been with him? In a hotel room? Why couldn’t she remember? That was the worst part. She tried to recall the events of the party and what might have happened, but her memory refused to cooperate. Tears trickled down the sides of her face into her hair and ears. How could this have happened?
What if the detective was right? What if she had killed Mr. Burke?
No. No. No. she wouldn’t let herself get into a situation like that. Never. Yet she’d been there. She’d seen Adam Burke’s body. She was stained with his blood. The gun, now laying on the carpet next to Mr. Burke, had been in her hand.
At Pacific Beach Hospital two EMTs wheeled her into an exam room while the other reported her condition to a woman wearing navy blue scrubs and holding a clip board. Another woman in street clothes and a lab jacket stood off to the side. “Bonnie Jenkins,” she said to the nurse. “CSI. If she’s stable, I’ll take over from here. I’ll need a rape kit.”
“Oh, God, no.” Carolyn’s tears came back full force. She struggled to get up. “Please, no. I’ve never. . ..” The nurse placed her hand on Carolyn’s arm. “It’s all right. We need to make sure. The doctor will do the exam and I’ll stay here with you.”
Carolyn gripped the nurse’s hand. She’d had gynecological exams before, but not like this.
“I’m Janet—I’ll be your nurse. And you’re Carolyn, right?”
Carolyn nodded.
“Is there someone we can call, a relative or. . ..”
“No. No one.” Carolyn had no family and she certainly didn’t want any of her friends or her pastor to see her like this. Please God, please. This can’t be happening.
Something broke inside of her. The panic subsided. She agreed to the examination and lay back forcing her fears aside. Later, she would attribute her sudden calm to God’s intervention. During the exam, she felt as though she’d been placed in limbo—as if she’d slipped out of herself and become more of an observer than a participant.
Bonnie explained each procedure as she went along. She took dozens of photos and samples of the blood stains and even fingerprinted her before removing the soiled and torn gown. Everything went into evidence bags and would be taken to the CSI lab in Portland. Carolyn only half heard her, all the while wishing she could slip into oblivion and never wake up.
“I’m afraid I’ll need your bracelet too, Ms. Hudson.”
“What?” The comment brought her back. She stared at the multi-stoned bracelet on her wrist. Carolyn had never seen it before.
“Your bracelet.” Bonnie pointed it. “There is blood on it and we’ll need to check it out.”
“It—It isn’t mine.”
Using latex gloves, Bonnie undid the clasp, slipped it off Carolyn’s wrist and settled it into an evidence bag. “Maybe someone gave it to you last night.”
Carolyn shook her head and then realized the someone to whom Bonnie referred was most likely Adam Burke. It wouldn’t do any good to protest. Though she knew in her heart that she would never have accepted a gift like that, Carolyn couldn’t remember.
“How is she?” The familiar male voice came from outside the cubicle. For a moment Carolyn thought she heard concern in his tone but his next words told her Michael cared nothing for her welfare and that he was only interested in gathering information. “I need to question her. Let me know when you’re done here.”
“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Bonnie said. “I just need to pack everything up.”
Turning back to Carolyn, she added, “Ms. Hudson. I know how difficult this has been for you. I appreciate your cooperation.”
Her cooperation? What other choice did she have? She could have refused, but she needed to know what had happened more than the police did.
“Detective Stedman will need to ask you a few questions.” Bonnie offered her a sympathetic look. “Do you feel up to it?”
No. She didn’t want to talk about it or relive those moments. She wanted to be left alone. But that wasn’t going to happen. Carolyn nodded as she sucked in a deep breath to call up what little courage she had left. Thankfully, her headache had begun to subside. “Might as well get it over with.”
Maybe she was making a mistake talking to the detective right now. She thought about asking for an attorney, but wouldn’t that make him think she had something to hide and make her look guilty? She thought about the gun and cringed. They had her prints and it wouldn’t take them long to match them to the prints on the gun. Hers.
Bonnie left then and the curtains parted. The nurse who’d stayed with her through most of the examination came back into the room. “You have a visitor.” Carolyn prepared herself to talk with Michael, but that wasn’t who stepped into the room.
Brian Burke, Adam’s son, glared at her, his blue eyes glinted like bits of steel. “You did this. You killed my father and you’re going to pay.”
Caroline stared open-mouthed as he lunged at her. The nurse forced her way between them. Brian shoved her aside and went for Carolyn again. She raised her arms to ward off his fists.
“Security!” The nurse yelled as she pulled on Brian’s arm.
Brian pushed her off again and shook
his fist at Carolyn. “You’re the one who should be dead. Not him.”
Michael and a hospital security officer burst into the room and pulled Brian away from Carolyn and dragged him out into the hall where his yelling subsided.
Caroline struggled to breathe. She had to get out of there. Home. She needed to go home. If she could just get to her clothes. She scooted down past the guard rail and swung her legs off the gurney.
Then she remembered. She had no clothes. Bonnie had taken everything. Carolyn wrapped the sheet around her naked body. A gown had been placed on a chair a few feet away. She took one step toward it and her legs collapsed. The room spun around her and everything went black.
Chapter Two
Michael scowled as his partner and the hospital security guy took Brian Burke away in cuffs. He could hardly blame Brian for being upset over his father’s death. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a family member go ballistic, but he’d never expected the guy to confront Carolyn in the ER. For one thing, she hadn’t even been named as a suspect. Michael figured that Brian had questioned the hospital staff and reporters and maybe even one or two of the officers involved and discovered that Carolyn had been in the hotel room with his father.
Or perhaps Brian had seen his father leave the political event with her. Michael hoped the guy would come to his senses. For now, though they’d have to take Brian’s threats seriously. Regardless of what Carolyn had or hadn’t done, she would need protection.
He would question Brian later. But first he needed to get some answers from Carolyn Hudson.
Michael hesitated before going back into the room. He needed to set aside the chaos of the last few minutes and pull his thoughts into some semblance of order. While waiting for the CSI tech to gather her evidence, he’d been able to get a preliminary report from Dr. Alexander. He’d been relieved to hear that Carolyn hadn’t been the victim of sexual abuse. All he knew so far was that she’d tested positive for gunpowder residue. That alone didn’t prove she’d killed him. More than one shot had been fired and the CSI techs had yet to find a second bullet.
Deadly Deception (An Artisan Mystery Book 1) Page 1
