by Nora LeDuc
“She stole?” He was getting a different picture of Dahlia now, and one that might have led to her unhappy ending.
“Not exactly, she took little objects like pens or a salt shaker from a restaurant. She worked on controlling the problem. There’s no way she’d steal the amount you mentioned.”
“Her dishonesty must have caused problems for you.”
Rose shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Gram and I had a few tense confrontations with Dahlia and her victims. We always tried to watch her, encourage her and have her replace the items. And as I said, they were small objects.”
“She helped herself to a couple of grand from your business. It sounds like she graduated to taking larger amounts.”
“The boutique theft was a one-time thing. In the past, Dahlia stole these small things to get people to see her for herself. She felt everyone saw us as a pair, a set.” She shrugged. “That’s what a counselor told Gram when Dahlia was first caught shoplifting. She was twelve.”
Follow the money trail. “Who would loan her the rest of the payment for the apartment?”
“I can’t think of a soul.” Rose wrinkled her brow.
“The cash could be a motive for her leaving home. She met someone, maybe online, who was financially well off, and your sister came to meet her online friend. Then she took too many little things from her network pal, who punished her by a swim in the river.”
Her face paled, and she shook her head. “You’re describing a big time thief, not Dahlia.”
“What about the stolen engagement ring?” he asked in a quiet, challenging voice. “I read the report. She stole it from the pawn shop, and it was worth more than a pen.”
Rose sat forward on the edge of the chair. Her hands fisted in her lap. “I can explain.
When she and A.J. broke up, she returned the ring to her fiancé. He didn’t want it, so he pawned it. When Dahlia spotted the ring in the pawn shop window, she was hurt. She didn’t think. She just grabbed it.”
“Did your sister sell the ring?”
“No, she cooled off and returned it the next day, but while she was at the pawn shop, a cop arrested her for shoplifting. Believe me, my sister’s not a big crook.” She paused and fanned her face with a hand. “Is it hot in here?”
She didn’t’ look well. Her face was the color of beach sand. She closed her eyes and her shoulders hunched forward as though she was in pain. A shiver shook her body.
“Miss Blue?” He jumped out of his seat and reached her in two seconds. “Rose.”
She glanced up at him, her eyes glazed.
“I’ll call a doctor.” He reached for his phone.
“No, don’t.”
“What is it?”
She straightened in the chair and ran a shaking hand through her hair. “I just saw my sister for a moment. I’m okay now.”
“Saw her where?” What was she talking about?
She waited a beat. “How about I give you unknown details about my sister’s death?”
“You mean what exactly?”
Her eyes narrowed, and he felt her take an emotional step back for a second before answering. “I was there the night Dahlia died.”
He had witnessed unexpected confessions when he worked in Buffalo, but he had to use all his willpower to keep his jaw from dropping. “You went with your sister when she was killed?” He sobered.
Was she a co-conspirator? He’d investigated the insurance angle. Rose received enough from the policy to bury her sister. Nothing else was left. Dahlia Blue possessed no funds to bequeath. She lived financially on the edge. Had the fight over the stolen boutique money prompted the killing? He stood in front of her. “Miss Blue, are you changing your story and confessing to murder or being an accomplice? Wait a minute.” He shot a hand in the air. “Remember you have the—.”
“You can save your Miranda rights. I’d never harm my sister.” She folded her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair. “I’ll explain, but you must try to believe me.”
He nodded, unsure what was to come next. Resting his hip on the end of the desk he waited for her to begin.
“Remember, keep an open mind. I wasn’t literally there.” She swallowed several times as though the words refused to come out of her mouth. “Since Dahlia…died, I’ve been undergoing a few…paranormal experiences.”
A ping of caution erupted in his chest. He worked to keep the surprise out of his voice. “Paranormal meaning−?”
“The night she died, I was with my sister because I entered her mind, but I couldn’t make out everything, or I’d pinpoint the location.”
Was she serious? Luke reconsidered her. Possibly, he’d let her attractive face mislead him. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’d sworn off pretty females long ago.
“You were in your sister’s mind?”
“Kinda. I watched.” She shrugged and held out her palms. “My explanation sounds odd, but we sometimes shared feelings, experiences—though nothing like when she was murdered. Last night, for instance, I saw Dahlia in a pond, the way she died.” Rose paused and swallowed. “I believe Dahlia cried for help, and she brought me to her when she was killed.”
The woman was original. At least she wasn’t spouting the worn out my-controlling boyfriend-forced-me defense, or the Ledgeview River Monster did it. “Can you remember anything about the killer? Shoes? Tattoo?”
“I’d guess she was murdered by a man. His form was more of a shadow. I think he attacked from behind because I felt the blows.” She laid a hand on the back of her skull and winced. “Then my sister fell down onto the rock. Her killer tied her up in duct tape.”
“But you weren’t really hit? Have you always been psychic?” If this story didn’t work, would she claim aliens beamed down the information?
“I’m not. Except for the night I described, Dahlia and I always communicated in the normal way, and I’ve had no luck talking to her so far. Let me explain.” She gripped the top of her purse. “Growing up, my sister and I experienced the usual identical sibling occurrences. We chose the same toothpaste, shampoo, but nothing like the night she died. Once Dahlia broke her foot, and I experienced the same pain although my foot was fine. It was a twin thing.”
“A twin thing,” he said, taking in the information.
“I’ve talked with a few people and found out not everyone develops their psychic ability at an early age or recognizes it. I’m guessing the fact my grandmother strongly discouraged us having our own twin talk or sharing mentally interfered with my psychic development.”
“Sure.” Had the woman told him anything truthful?
Rose gripped her hands together. “Gram was very religious and brought us up in her faith. Anything supernatural or in the psychic realm was against our beliefs. It was a sin. I wasn’t about to go against Gram or our church. I always denied mental communication with my sister and passed it off as intuition, but now I realize the ability was always there. We often knew where each other were or felt without words, unless we were fighting or blocking the message.”
“Were you fighting when she disappeared?” he asked, observing the nervous tightening of her hands.
“Yes.” She shifted in her seat with discomfort. “We argued over the boutique’s missing funds. Since the night Dahlia died, I’ve been trying to communicate with her, but I haven’t made much progress.”
It sounded like a crazy story to him, one he’d have to be crazy to believe.
A corner of her mouth turned down. “I can’t clarify that horrible night’s experience much better except I’m certain it happened to us, Dahlia and me.” Rose stiffened when he didn’t comment. “I’m not good at explaining what went on, but I swear I’m telling the truth.”
“Describe the site of the murder for me.” He picked up the ballpoint and notebook.
She stretched out her open palm. “Let me draw it.”
He passed the writing utensils and eased back to wonder about her sanity and his own. The drawing would be t
he ultimate test. He was in a tight spot in the investigation. With the new ME unable to pinpoint the exact time of Dahlia’s death because of the water temperature, he was left with only a weak estimate. Rose could have committed the crime and be leading him on a merry chase, starting with the sketch.
“My sister was the artistic one, but I’ll give you an idea how it appeared to me.” She bit her lip and set to work. The sound of the pen’s tip scratching across the paper filled the cubicle, and all the background noises had long ago faded.
“Dahlia hated heights.”
“I can sympathize with her. Flat ground is where I prefer my feet. How about you? As a twin, did you share your sister’s fear?”
She stared at him, appearing to be judging him, deciding if she should share her secret. “I never reveal or discuss my personal fears, but since you’re working my sister’s case…spi–ders.” Her voice wavered with emotion. “I hate them.”
“Spiders?” Not an unusual phobia or what he expected to hear. “I understand. How’s your drawing?” He bet it was a place that didn’t exist and no one would find.
“I’m almost done. I’d guess the killer knew about Dahlia’s phobia, bound and dragged her to an old, iron bridge. He threw her off to watch the ultimate horror on her face as she fell.” Though the words were spoken softly, there was an underlying sadness mixed with revulsion in the rigidity of her body. She set the pencil down before flipping the drawing toward him.
“Dahlia was attacked on these boulders.” She pointed to the ellipses, and then lowered her finger to the wavy lines beneath the stones. “This is the water below.” She bent her head, breaking eye contact. “The bridge where he tossed her over seemed to be an old train overpass.”
The picture on the paper leapt into his mind and grew until the matching scene came into focus. A granite ledge appeared out of the woods and sloped into the river below. A few yards north stood the remains of a deserted railroad trestle. A jolt of recognition hit him with a punch that nearly knocked him over.
“Besides my search of the Brattleboro area, I surfed the internet for hiking trails and campgrounds in New England. Nothing resembled my mental image of where she was murdered. My car was in the garage the week she disappeared, and I was limited to bumming rides to hunt for her. I should probably broaden my searches now.”
“Rose, don’t bother chasing down anymore sites. I know the exact place where your sister died.”
Chapter 4
They’d had the perfect night at the perfect place. Everything had been a dream. Their evening together played over and over. In the daylight the rush disappeared and the daily grind took its place.
Now Rose had come. She walked the streets around Ledgeview. Lived in the same apartment.
Could a flower by any other name be as sweet as dear Rose? We’ll meet soon in the spot your sister and I loved.
“You drew The Ledges that are on the outskirts of the city.” Luke tried to hide his excitement and speak in a professional manner. “It’s an unofficial recreation area. During the summer, families picnic on the boulders and swim in the river below the rocks. But after dark, they say the place is haunted. Only the local high school kids risk going in the evening for the occasional drinking party. The police chase them away, but unless they assign a cruiser to patrol all night, it’s a lost cause. The teenagers make it a personal challenge to stake out a claim and sneak into the place after sunset.”
“Let’s go.” Rose jumped to her feet, letting the picture drift to the floor. “You are available immediately?” She glanced at the files cluttering his desk. “If you’re too busy, I’ll drive out and search around for myself.”
“You’d have better luck taking a cab to find Amelia Earhart. No one hangs out at The Ledges in the cold weather. The place is abandoned.”
She bit her lip and seemed to consider his words while Luke examined her hovering form. The gray sweater hugged the curvy shape of her slender body. Dark pants covered long legs that fit into low‒heeled, black shoes. Waves of dark blonde hair fell around her colorless face and onto her shoulders. The lack of makeup didn’t hide the fact the woman was a knockout, but something else about her held his attention. Although she’d controlled her voice when speaking about her murdered sister, her eyes told him a different story. When he gazed into them, he felt like he saw not only her pain, but her broken heart.
What was happening to him? He’d become soft, a marshmallow man, and that could be dangerous in his business. Damn. The woman could be playing him. If she’d done her homework, The Ledges was the perfect spot to pinpoint. Who would contradict her? Yet, she couldn’t know about the fax he’d received about the currents from his friend, who worked for an ecological firm and ran a few quick tests as a favor. The results indicated The Ledges was the number one spot for the victim to have entered the river.
“I want to show you something.” He stood up and opened a drawer in his metal cabinet. “This report came in a couple of hours ago.” He drew out a file and tossed it on his desk watching her reaction to the report.
“I see.” She lifted her chin and placed her hands on her hips. “Science confirms my story so you have to believe me.” She dropped her hands.
The fire in her voice told him she didn’t agree with skipping the trip or like his doubt. If she’d something to do with her sister’s death, she covered her reaction to the latest news like a pro.
“Remember smart and caution are words I like to practice, and in your case, they should be the most important words in your dictionary,” he advised.
“Got it, smart-on will be my words to live by.” She gathered up her purse.
“Hold it.” She didn’t have a clue what a murder investigation detailed. “In a homicide case, everyone needs to prepare for difficult questions and unpleasant answers. You might not like what we learn. The truth can hurt. You can opt for a daily written report instead of hands on investigation.”
She flattened her palms on his desk and leaned forward. “I’m not patient about sitting around and waiting for censored notes. You’re also forgetting I’m your prime witness or victim’s family or both, depending on how you view my role.”
The woman was right. He’d never find a better eyewitness or a suspect, and he could observe and judge her truthfulness close up. “You’ve won me over with your persuasive discussion.”
“I had you at witness.”
“You bet, but if you think you can go on ride alongs or participate in questioning, you should know up front that’s impossible. I have procedures and chain of custody and—”
“No problem, can we leave now and skip lecture number 5,029?”
“Is anyone else with you, waiting somewhere? You said you were alone but—”
“I’m traveling solo.”
“The trail leads through the woods, and the snow sticks longer in the shaded areas. You should pick up boots for the trip.”
“You’re afraid of cold feet, detective? I don’t have time to go shopping for footwear.”
He pulled on his leather jacket. She was right. Daylight promised to last for only a few more hours. If they didn’t head out soon, he’d find out if ghosts walked The Ledges at night.
Rose glanced out the window. “Can you fast forward or give me the short version of your speech? I want to arrive before midnight.”
“I’ve one last reminder. I’m paid by the public to protect, and if I advise you to stay somewhere—”
“Smart-on, Lennox.” A sudden smile lit her features.
Her grin changed her features, softened it and added a touch of vulnerability. If Rose Blue was a killer, she’d won his vote for best actress in the innocent role. “Let’s go.”
As he exited the front door, he ran into Buddy on the sidewalk.
Buddy Drown swiped a strand of dark hair away from his forehead. “Requesting clearance for entrance.”
Luke paused next to Rose on the sidewalk. “Bud, we’re on our way out. Were you coming into the station?�
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“I’m afraid I need your detective skills for a couple of minutes. Sorry to butt in during your business hours, Luke, and Miss—?” He turned toward Rose.
“Miss Blue,” she offered, clutching the strap of her purse and putting one foot forward.
She was anxious to leave.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Blue.” Buddy scratched his head. “Did we meet up before? You look familiar.”
“She’s new in Ledgeview, Bud. What’s the problem?”
“I’ve misplaced my phone. Have you seen it? I might have left it in your car after the game the other night.”
“I’ll double check later. Now’s not a good time.”
“Gotcha. Guess I’d better phone Shauna before she starts worrying when I don’t answer her call. We’ve three months until the wedding, and she already has the wife’s where-have-you-been part down.” He flashed a smile, revealing even white teeth. “Miss Blue, welcome to Ledgeview. Luke, don’t forget you’re coming over tonight to let me win our bet and all your money. Shauna’s doing a night out with the girls and won’t be manning the stove. We’ll order out.”
“As long as you don’t make me eat your cooking, I’m in.”
“You’re safe.” He slapped Luke across the back. “Glad you’re home. It’s going to be like old times around here again. Catch ya, later.” With a nod to Rose, Buddy headed off.
“Sorry for the delay,” Luke said to her. “Bud’s an old friend.”
“Sounds like you’re close.”
“He and I go back years. Buddy’s the next best thing to a brother.” He strode toward his car with Rose keeping pace.
“I have to ask one more thing before we leave. Do law enforcement officers gamble?”
He stopped at the corner. “The loser springs for a super sized meal at the local fast food. Do you have more questions for me?”
“Where’s your car?”
“I parked in the rear.” He led the way to the lot behind the building.
In the close quarters of the front seat, the scent of her sweet perfume teased his nose again.
