by Rebecca Deel
He smiled. “So you arrived around two. What were you and Ivy doing here?”
“Oh, Judge Reece asked me to evaluate Mae’s book collection.”
“And pack up the library,” Ivy added.
Rod’s eyebrows shot up. “Big job.”
“I planned to draft help,” Del said. “He wanted the books packed by this weekend.”
“Huh. Okay, we’ll come back to that. Walk me through what happened from the time you arrived to when you called us. You arrived at two. Who let you in the house?”
“Judge Reece.”
Josh straightened from the wall he’d been leaning against.
“You talked to him?” Rod asked.
“Sure, for a few minutes.”
“What about?”
“His mother. He mentioned how shocked he was that his mother had fallen down the stairs.” She glanced at Ivy, seated to her right. At her nod of agreement, Del continued. “He showed us into the library and left.”
“Did he say where he was headed?”
“He had an appointment with his mother’s lawyer,” Ivy said. “He said he needed to grab some papers in the office before he left.”
“Any special reason he wanted you to pack up the books?”
“Multitasking,” Ivy said. “Del rocks at that.”
“Mae loved books.” Del smiled. “She was an equal opportunity collector, but she especially loved paperbacks. She also had some very valuable hardbacks, first editions that were worth quite a bit of money.”
“And what exactly were you supposed to do for Judge Reece?”
“We were recording all the hardback books for him. I was going to look up their values after we’d packed them.”
“Judge Reece had scads of book boxes for us to use,” Ivy put in. “There’s a mountain of them in the dining room across from the office.”
Rod made some notes and pinned Del with sharp gaze. “What about the other books? The paperbacks?”
“Mae left them to me. We were book buddies, always swapping book recommendations.”
“Why not give them to her children?”
“None of them were readers, except for Judge Reece and he didn’t read fiction.”
“I see. So the judge showed you to the library and headed to retrieve his papers. What time was this?”
Del scrunched her forehead. “Maybe 2:15.” She glanced at her cousin. “Does that sound right?”
Ivy nodded.
“What did you do after Reece left you?”
“Packed books,” Ivy muttered. “In case you wanted to know, hardbacks weigh a ton when you’re hauling them down the ladder.”
Rod chuckled. “I’m familiar with that. My wife, Megan, has quite a collection of her own. If we ever move to another house, I’m hiring movers to pack her books and haul her stash to the new place.”
“No, wait,” Del interrupted. “Don’t you remember, Ivy? We had to return to the car to get my laptop? We drank some water, came back inside, then got to work.”
“Okay. So that was around 2:15. Your call to dispatch came in at four. What made you go into the office?”
Del swallowed the bile pooling in her mouth at the memory of Judge Reece’s body.
“Del?” Rod leaned over and laid his hand on her knee. “You all right?”
“Sorry,” she whispered.
Rod sent a pointed look to Josh. Seconds later she heard the front door open. He was leaving? Odd, but she felt abandoned. Del grabbed Ivy’s hand. She hoped her cousin’s grip would keep her grounded in the present instead of mired in the past.
“Stay with me,” Rod said. “Don’t think about that yet. I only want to know what sent you to the office.”
“Phone call from the lawyer’s office. He didn’t make it to the appointment and the lawyer was calling to check.” She gave the lawyer’s name. “I thought he would see the note if it were on the desk.”
Josh came back in, two more Cokes in his hand. He opened one of the drinks and handed her the bottle, passed the other to her cousin. “Sip it slow, Del.”
She nodded, took a couple sips, waited for the nausea to subside. A deep breath, then, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not usually so sensitive.”
“Shock.” Josh snorted. “Just about any strong scent does Serena in. If I don’t watch it, she’ll turn me into a vegetarian soon.”
Rod grinned. “Amazes me that she’s made a success of her personal chef service when she has trouble cooking beef.”
“That’s when her tea drinking habit is the heaviest.” Josh grimaced. “Nasty stuff.”
“I’ll second that.” Rod studied Del a moment. “Ready now?”
She nodded.
“So the lawyer called, said the judge had missed his appointment. What did you do next?”
“Took a message and went to the office.” Her heart thumped harder. She didn’t want to do this, but she knew Rod needed all the information he could get from her and Ivy to find the judge’s killer. “I walked into the office and saw his shoes.” Del stopped. Her hand clenched around the bottle.
A rustle of movement behind her, and Josh’s cold hand cupped the nape of her neck. Somehow either his presence or the touch of his cold hand chased away the shakes and unsettled stomach.
“Did you touch anything?” Rod asked.
“No.”
“What about you, Ivy? Did you go into the office?”
She shook her head. “Del wouldn’t let me once she saw Judge Reece. We called you guys from the library.”
“Think carefully before you answer the next question. Did either of you hear a gunshot?” After a negative response from both, he asked, “Did you hear anything unusual or out of place?”
“We didn’t hear anything,” Ivy said.
Del frowned. “Nothing except that weird cough.”
Josh’s hand tightened on her neck.
“When did you hear the cough?” Rod asked.
“Maybe 2:20. We were at the front door to get my laptop.”
“Did you hear anything else after the cough?” After a negative head shake from her and Ivy, the detective leaned toward her. “What about before when you were in the hall? Did you hear the judge talking or maybe movement?”
“Nothing.”
“You didn’t go check out the noise?”
“No,” Ivy said. “We didn’t hear it again. Why? What was that noise?”
“You didn’t hear a gunshot at any time?” Rod pressed.
“Rod, you’re scaring me.” Del’s voice shook. “What did we hear?”
A quick glance at Josh, then, “The coughing noise was probably a suppressed gunshot.”
CHAPTER THREE
So close. Josh wiped the sweat from his brow as he followed Del’s SUV. If Del and Ivy had checked on the judge or lingered at the front door, they might have seen the killer. He or she would have killed them as easily as he’d dispatched Judge Reece. From his observations at the crime scene, the killer surprised the judge. No argument, according to Del. No sign of a struggle.
Though he remained close to the SUV, he scrutinized the traffic. No one revealed interest in their two-vehicle caravan. They arrived without incident at Del’s two-bedroom bungalow on Evergreen Road.
Josh turned off the engine and climbed from his vehicle. Del and Ivy lingered on the walkway. He extended his hand to Del. “Keys. I want to check the house before you enter.”
“Why? We didn’t see the killer, so he couldn’t have seen us.”
Not necessarily. That thought made his stomach churn. “Better to be safe.”
“I hate this.”
Josh stilled. “You don’t want me in your house?”
“I hate that searching my home is necessary. What if someone is waiting and hurts you?”
“I’d prefer he come after me instead of you or Ivy. I can take care of myself.” Except when he’d zigged instead of zagged in the Sand Box and taken a career-ending bullet in the leg. Josh was agile enough fo
r law enforcement, but not for Delta. He wiggled his fingers. “Keys, beautiful. I don’t want you and Ivy in this heat long.”
She dropped her keys on his palm.
“Any pets?”
She shook her head.
He opened the door, slipped inside, listened to the silence. Nothing appeared disturbed. Knowing a killer had been near the women hours before, he searched the house, weapon in hand.
No one lurked in Del’s home and her backyard was empty of anything except a flower garden and bird bath. He smiled. For a woman who didn’t want to be given flowers, she didn’t skimp on the yard.
He slid his weapon in his holster and motioned the women inside. “All clear.”
Relief washed over Del’s face. “Thank you for checking.”
“Not a problem.”
Ivy took Del’s laptop. “I’ll put this in your room before I change clothes. I can’t wait to get out of these sweaty things.” She paused at the hallway entrance. “Thanks for everything, Josh.”
He studied Del’s face. Still too pale. “Will you be okay?”
“Sure.”
He tilted his head. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Maybe because I don’t almost witness a murder every day.”
She shouldn’t have seen anything like that. Sure, death arrived for everyone. Violent death was altogether different. “Time will dull the memory. In the meantime, you’ll have vivid dreams, nightmares. They’re normal.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I was afraid of that.”
“Where’s your cell phone?”
Del pulled her phone from her pocket and handed it to him. Josh keyed in his name and cell number on her speed dial and returned her phone. “Call my phone.”
He saved her contact information. “Call if you can’t sleep or become uneasy. I live a few blocks away and I can be here in under three minutes. I’m also off duty until Sunday night.”
“Thanks.” Her voice sounded choked.
He reached for the doorknob, stopped, turned back. Leaving her in tears didn’t feel right. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You have an amazing teddy bear collection. I’ll show you my race car collection if you promise not to rat me out to my sisters. They believe I gave my cars away before I left for boot camp.”
Del grinned. “Deal.”
Much better. “Working tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it. The Christie Club’s meeting at ten o’clock.”
“Christie Club?”
“Some mystery readers wanted to form a book club but couldn’t bring themselves to call it the Murder Club. They were afraid Ethan might object to the name.”
“Ruth must be part of that group.” Ethan’s aunt was a bestselling cozy mystery writer.
“They’re armchair detectives and Ruth has turned them into a sounding board for her books. Those women have plotted all kinds of murders.” She shook her head. “I would hate to make them mad. They could plot the perfect crime.”
“Do they read only classic murders?”
Del laughed. “These ladies love Robert B. Parker, John Sandford and a whole range of cozy mysteries, too. They love the challenge of solving mysteries before the killer is revealed by the author. They read more books than you per week.”
“I might drop by tomorrow.” He paused. “These murder experts will want details about today. It’s best not to talk about it with anyone outside the investigation.”
“Okay.” She bit her lower lip. “Josh?”
“Yeah?”
“Would it have made a difference if I had checked on the judge?”
Other than her being as dead as Judge Reece? “No.”
“But if I had called an ambulance?”
“He died instantly, Del.” Josh cupped her cheek with his hand. “Call if you need anything.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and left.
After showering off the day’s sweat, treating a scratch from Fluffy, and heating a meal left in his freezer by Serena, Josh grabbed his cell and called Ethan. “Update?”
“Too early. How are Del and Ivy?”
“Ivy’s okay. Too soon to know about Del. She was pretty shaken.”
“Shouldn’t have been exposed to any of that,” Ethan said.
Josh heard the anger in his brother-in-law’s voice. No doubt, Ethan took the assassination personally. He especially wouldn’t like the fed interference sure to descend on them. “The feds will want to interview Del and Ivy?”
“Count on it.”
“Any chance I can sit in on that?”
“Something you need to tell me, Josh?”
His free hand fisted. “No.”
“I wouldn’t let the feds talk to the ladies without me or Rod there,” he said, voice soft. “What’s your stake in this?”
Josh sighed. Should have known Ethan wouldn’t let this drop. He couldn’t explain his protective tendencies with Del, even to himself. “Del’s a friend. I was first on scene. Makes it personal.”
“If something changes, I need to know. Cops make mistakes when the stakes are personal.”
He tightened his grip around his cell. “Right. You can tell me about that from personal experience, can’t you?”
Ethan chuckled. “I asked for that, didn’t I?”
“We’re just friends.”
“I want to know if that changes. Got me?”
Stubborn man. “Yeah, I got it.” Josh ended the call and decided to call it a night. He’d be lucky to get in four hours of sleep before the dreams chased him out of bed.
He woke two hours later at his cell phone’s first ring.
Del turned over and punched her pillow into a new position. Didn’t help. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw John Reece’s face, the hole in his forehead, the pool of blood under his head. She swallowed hard. If she didn’t find a way to calm her mind and keep it focused on something else, she’d end up barfing. Again.
Del threw back the covers and swung her feet to the floor. She glanced at the clock. She had to get up in four hours to be at the store on time and she wouldn’t have help aside from Ivy and Madison. Maybe a cup of tea would help her sleep. If nothing else, she’d grab a book, prop her feet up and indulge in a little relaxation. A cozy mystery sounded perfect.
Unable to think of anything better, she eased her door open and listened. No movement from the guest room. Good. She padded into the kitchen and, working from memory instead of her kitchen light, grabbed a mug, filled it with water, dropped in a tea bag, and slid it into the microwave.
She considered a light snack, immediately rejected the idea. The thought of food made the nausea swirl in her stomach. The way she’d felt the last several hours, she might be ready to eat in a day or two. The microwave beeped. Del yanked open the door, hoping she caught it before the sound woke her cousin.
She tossed the tea bag in the trash and carried her mug to the living room. With the lamp on the lowest setting, Del settled deeper into the cushioned chair, propped her feet up and grabbed the latest Laura Bradford mystery. She’d stopped reading at a good place and wanted to finish the book. Sleep seemed elusive tonight anyway.
Two chapters later, a noise outside yanked Del from the Amish mystery. She listened a minute, heard nothing else, and wondered if her imagination was playing tricks on her. Josh had told her skittishness was normal. Maybe a neighbor’s dog was in the front yard. Blue, the blue heeler that lived next door, was a regular visitor. His owner never remembered to latch the gate.
Satisfied with that explanation, she returned her gaze to the page. Another noise drew her attention, this time from her backyard. Heart pounding, Del dropped the book on the end table and turned toward the French doors that led to her patio. Her eyes widened. The security light was out. She’d just replaced that bulb last week. It was possible the bulb was a bad one, but could she take that chance? The light had been on when she made her tea.
Feeling stupid, she dropped to her knees and crawled from the living room to the hall. The
doorknob on the French door rattled. A burglar? Really? After the crappy day she’d had? Del hurried to Ivy’s door and opened it. “Ivy,” she whispered. “Wake up.”
Her cousin sat bolt upright. “What is it?”
“I think somebody’s breaking in. Come with me.”
Ivy threw off the covers and jammed her feet into slippers. “Did you call the cops?”
“Not yet. Come to my room. I left my cell phone on the charger. We’ll call from there.” Del shut the door behind her cousin, locked it and raced across to her nightstand. She snatched up her cell and, with her eyes on her bedroom door, hit her speed dial.
On the second ring, Josh answered the phone, sounding fully alert. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. She loved sweet names like that. If only he meant them specifically for her. But Josh Cahill called all the women in his life by sweet or funny names. “Someone’s trying to break in my back door.”
“Where are you?”
“Bedroom. Ivy’s with me.”
“Can you climb out a window without being seen?”
“The window is on the back wall.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“No.” Glass shattered in the other room. She gasped.
“Talk to me.”
“He broke the glass.”
“Can you open the window without alerting the intruder?”
“I think so.”
“Get Ivy to help. Make it look like you escaped. Then both of you hide in your closet. Don’t come out until you hear from me or one of the other Otter Creek officers that you know. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Ivy, we need to open the window.” She raced across the room to help. Hot, muggy air filtered into the room as she grabbed Ivy’s hand and dragged her into the large walk-in closet. Del shut the door and pushed her cousin toward the back wall, thankful she’d taken time to straighten it up earlier in the week so they didn’t stumble over stacks of shoes. She sank to the floor. “We’re in the closet,” she whispered into her cell phone.
