by Nora LeDuc
“Who?” His intense stare dared her to downplay the situation.
“My sister. She always hearted her exclamation point.”
“Your dead sister wrote to you last night?” Both his brows shot up. “Now I really want my expert’s opinion. I have a sample of Dahlia’s signature from her driver’s license and a shopping list found in her wallet. I’ll bag the letter.”
He thought she was crazy. She straightened in her chair, encouraging the anger to overtake her fear. “The message could be a warning, or she’s angry with me. We fought over the stolen money the last time I saw her alive. See, she’s never gotten over it. She’s still mad at me and wrote me the threatening note.” She paused. “You don’t believe me.”
“Rose, you have to admit it’s a little out there.”
She’d try her other theory. “Dahlia might have written the message through me and I don’t remember. I’ve heard about it happening. What about the man who killed his wife in his sleep?”
“He was found guilty of perjury and murder.” Lennox moved nearer to her and rested his hip on the desktop. “Let my experts examine the handwriting. It’s possible it’s a forgery.”
She handed over the note. His disbelief hurt more than the idea of someone locked in her apartment. “Knock yourself out.”
She turned to leave. The sooner she was away, the happier she’d be.
“Are you parked in the rear lot or out front?”
She paused at the cubicle exit. They stood so close together, her arm brushed against his chest. Despite her conflicting irritation and fear, the feeling of attraction enticed her nearer. “I walked.”
“After what happened to Shauna and your experience last night, you should—”
“No police manual talks. I can’t sit around, cowering in Dahlia’s apartment. I came to Ledgeview to be sure her killer was caught and soon. I’ve a business and life to get back to. Staying inside my apartment accomplishes nothing and defeats my purpose. Right now, I’m going to the library. I want to reread the articles about my sister’s death. I might have missed something.”
He pinned her with a disapproving stare, and she stifled the urge to defend herself. Why did she have to want a man who didn’t even believe in her? The memory of their kiss now brought regrets. “If any of the seniors flash back to a memory of my sister at the Audi, let me know.”
“Listen, young man,” a gravelly voice boomed over Lennox’s portable wall. “I delivered her to heaven where she belonged. I confess. Take me away.”
Lennox and Rose exchanged a glance and bounded around the divider.
Ten feet away, an elderly gentleman with white-hair thudded his fist against the plainclothesman’s desk.
“What’s happening here, Conroy?” Lennox demanded.
The other detective’s mouth pulled downward.
The senior tilted his head back and the shoulders of his elbow-patched corduroy jacket sagged over his thin shoulders. “I was reciting my line from the play. It was a showstopper.” His gaze landed on Rose. “Are we acquainted, young lady?”
“Me? No, we’ve never met.”
“Did you meet her identical twin?” Lennox asked. “She was in the play at the Audi with you. Her name was Dahlia Blue.”
“Excuse my confusion about our last meeting. I thought it was because I didn’t take my Metamucil today.” He winked at Rose. “Would you like to hear Othello’s Soliloquy? I learned it when I was sixteen and have never forgotten one word.” He dropped his voice to a confidential level. “The play was my first stage role at the high school.”
“Sir,” Lennox interjected. “Did you know Dahlia Blue?”
“I don’t think so. Is she here?”
“Let’s start again. What’s your name?”
“Why, Othello, of course.”
“Fred Melvin,” Conroy said, tossing his pen on the desk with a shake of his head.
“I can provide you with a resume of my performances if you’d like.” Othello widened his eyes in anticipation.
“Please,” Rose cut in. “You must remember Dahlia. She was my identical twin.”
“I’m sorry, young lady, I only remember my lines. I can recite personal references if you prefer, though I’ve not seen most of them in a dog’s year or longer.”
“Thanks for the offer, Mr. Melvin,” Lennox said. “I have to escort the young lady from the building. Detective Conroy wants to learn more about your performances. Deliver a few lines to him.”
“You’re a big help, Lennox.” Conroy’s lips turned up in a pucker of disagreement.
“A gentleman always accompanies a woman to her destination,” Othello called after them.
A small thrill went through Rose. For a few seconds, she’d pretend that Lennox was walking her out not because they were involved in a homicide case but because he truly cared about her, personally.
At the exit, he held the door and then joined her on the sidewalk away from the front desk clerk who’d watched them with interest.
She lingered near the building. “Othello or Mr. Melvin was too feeble to be a killer. I know you can’t predict by someone’s outward appearance, but I don’t think he could have physically hurt my sister. I wonder what part he played in the Audi show.”
“Fred Melvin was the Ledgeview High School drama coach when my dad attended classes, and he was still there when I was in high school. He used to hang at Joe’s Coffee Shop until he went into the nursing home. Myra gave him a walk on in her play.”
“I’m glad you’re up on your facts.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about the handwriting. I believe in facts, but I’m trying to open my mind to other possibilities.”
“I understand.” Why couldn’t he believe in her and never mind facts?
His hand skimmed over her cheek, and he smiled. “Good, let’s go.” He did his usual scan of the street and sidewalk before they started.
“Do you think you’ll get a break in the case from the Audi players?” she asked, trying to forget the tingle from his touch.
“Unless you want tips on acid reflux, I wouldn’t count on it. I’ve something else to discuss. I didn’t want to mention it at the station since privacy was scarce.”
“What is it?”
“Let’s walk.”
They strolled toward the library. A few shoppers and the early lunch bunch were out strolling to stores and restaurants. Her patience held for half a minute. “Okay, Lennox. What’s happened?”
“I found out A.J.’s father embezzled funds from the car dealership where he worked. His father served time in the state prison for his crime and died shortly after his release.”
“No wonder A.J. never talked about him.” She paused near the Sneaky Sneakers Store as the news sank in. “What happened to his mother?”
“The family broke up when his dad was sentenced. A.J.’s mother died when he was about ten. He then lived with an uncle, who was a mechanic, and his daughter. The uncle passed away three years ago. We’re still searching for the daughter. She could lead us to A.J. Any chance he spoke of her or places she lived?”
“I never knew she existed, which is strange. Dahlia told him all about our family: Gram, our absent father and our mother. I hope A.J is living with his cousin, and once we find her, you can interview and clear him or...arrest him.”
“Remember, information about A.J. is confidential. I’m informing you as the victim’s family. A team went down to Rhode Island this morning to A.J.’s old neighborhood where he lived and worked, and I expect to follow up on their results.
“I’ve been trying to remember everything he’s said or did. I’ll write it down for you. At last, we’re going to arrest Dahlia’s killer.”
“Good, now we’re working together.”
Together. The word echoed in her head. This must mean she was officially off the person of interest list. He wouldn’t work with a suspect. She bit her lip to hold back the bubble of laughter. Everything had turned around, and soon A.
J. would be in jail or cleared. Hopefully it would all lead to Dahlia’s killer, and Rose would be going home. But how would she live her life without Dahlia? At least now she spoke to her sporadically. She flicked a glance at Lennox. He’d be out of her life too.
“Have a good time at the library, Miss Blue.”
His sudden dismissal surprised her. She headed off aware the detective was tracking her movements.
She tossed a peek over her shoulder when she stopped on the corner. Lennox was gone. At the screech of tires, her attention flew to the street. A car swerved toward her. She jumped back, her heart pounding in her ears.
The vehicle halted inches from her, blocking her path. What happened?
Her unsteady hand went for her gun while she searched for familiar features through the tinted car’s windows.
“Rose!” Lennox yelled. He charged down the street.
The door of the car flew open.
“Put your hands in the air!” Lennox shouted.
Chapter 16
“Rose, it’s me.”
“Cassie?” Rose blinked and took in her friend’s familiar light blonde hair. Her coral lips were drawn back in fright. Her eyelashes thick with mascara shot up and touched her fine, light brows.
“Hands now,” Lennox raised his badge and reached behind his back.
Cassie put her palms in the air as people gathered a few feet away, hugging the safety of the store fronts. “Am I under arrest for stopping in a no parking zone? Really, it was an impulse. I saw my friend, Rose, and was totally into my surprise aspect. I forgot to pay attention to the parking signs.”
Rose jumped forward and embraced Cassie before facing Lennox. “I know her. She’s my friend, Cassie Raymond, from Vermont.”
“What are you doing here?” he demanded of the visitor.
“Lennox, stop interrogating her. Cassie, what are you doing here?”
“Apparently, I’m going to jail. I thought I’d surprised you. You’ve had a tough time and I wanted to take you to lunch.” She held out her fists to Lennox. “I’m ready for the cuffs.”
He stuffed his badge inside his pocket and did a quick take on the area around them.
“Am I under arrest?” she asked.
“Both of you take a break.” Rose wedged between them like a referee separating boxing contenders. “He’s not arresting you. Lennox, Cassie’s the person who’s been in charge of my store while I’m here in Ledgeview. Remember?”
“Got it.”
“Good, I didn’t recognize her car because I never expected her to be in New Hampshire.” She pivoted around to her friend. “Is the Blues Sisters closed today?”
“Do you want me to drive home and open up?”
“Yup, she’s my friend. Why are you here, Lennox? I thought you went back to your office.”
“I’m a detective. I’m not always seen when I’m near.”
“Is he your private bodyguard?” Cassie wiggled her brows and widened her eyes.
“This is Detective Luke Lennox in charge of Dahlia’s case.”
“I’m happy to meet you.” Cassie stepped forward and gave him a dimpled smile. “I bet you’ll catch the person who took away Dahlia and send our Rose home soon. I miss her.”
“You’d better move your car,” he said to Cassie. “You’ll get a ticket for traffic obstruction.”
Rose caught the curious glances and covert stares from the small throng collected around them. “A police detective shouting and running down the street was big news on a slow day.”
Lennox seemed suddenly aware of the sightseers too. “Okay, the excitement is over. Move on.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hands for people to disperse.
“There’s a lot around the corner, Cass.” Rose hooked her thumb in the air. “You can park there, and I’ll meet you.”
“Does this mean I’m forgiven for closing the store and can take you to lunch?”
“You are, unless Lennox detains you. How about it? Is she released into my custody?”
“Move the vehicle, and we’re good.”
“I’m on it.” Cassie jumped forward and hugged Rose before driving toward the lot.
“I guess I’ll skip the library for a while,” Rose announced. Research could wait.
“The deli across from the library offers specials,” Lennox told her.
“I get the hint. We’ll stay close by and eat at the Black Cat Deli.”
“Glad you liked my culinary tip.”
What could she say to make him stay and continue looking at her with that concerned expression? Nothing popped into her mind. She trotted off to meet Cassie, but she sensed Lennox shadowing behind until they entered the eatery. A waitress immediately seated them.
Within minutes they’d ordered. As Rose waited for her veggie sandwich, she cleared her mind and listened to Cassie chatter about home. The stories revolved around a place where people were happy, without worries. All the stories felt like they came from another lifetime.
Her mind wandered as she took in the other customers. Most of the lunch patrons were dressed for the work day with mixed groups of seniors and young mothers and toddlers.
“Rose, are you listening to me?”
“Sure, you asked how I’m doing.”
“Mom and I worry about you.” Cassie bit her lip for a second. “Dad does too. He misses you and Dahlia asking for advice on frozen pipes or stuck doors.”
“He’s always been the best stand-in father a friend can have.”
“I don’t mean to pry or be too personal, but you didn’t even cry at Dahlia’s funeral. Are you okay? It’s normal to be upset or mad after all you’ve gone through.”
“Everything is personal when someone kills a family member. Your life changes forever.” She clasped her hands together in her lap, praying Cassie understood and wouldn’t press her. The constant talk about Dahlia’s death brought a crushing pain to her chest as though someone was stamping on her heart.
She couldn’t blame Cassie for asking. The three of them, Cassie, Dahlia and Rose had become best friends when they met in kindergarten. The trio had shared everything from sleepovers, make-up to stories about first kisses and boyfriends.
“My mom worries about you. Do you get lonely?”
Without Dahlia she’d always be alone.
Cassie touched Rose’s fisted hand on the table. “Talk to me. Are you a little scared living by yourself in a strange city?”
Rose seized the glass of water to quench her dry mouth and gulped the contents before replying. “I can’t sit around and do nothing. How can I face myself in the mirror if I don’t do this for my sister?”
“Remember you can call me whenever you’re down.” A slow grin crossed Cassie’s face. “You’re not totally on your own. I noticed Detective Lennox ran to your rescue.”
Heat flushed Rose’s skin. “The detective is interested in me for whatever leads I can give him about my sister. I’m part of his job.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.” Cassie winked. “I wish some hunk would rush down the street when a car stopped in front of me. By the way, the Downtown Merchants Organization is cooking up great plans for Bargain Days. I know the group means a lot to you.”
“I haven’t given them a thought for weeks.” The merchants group used to occupy a great deal of her after work hours and energy. She wasn’t the same person who’d opened her store last fall with enthusiasm and excitement for the future. That person cared mainly about her committee, her boutique and focused on her margin of profits. She continued to listen to Cassie but refrained from commenting.
Cassie bit her lip and seemed to be searching for a topic. “Did I mention Sue Markey has a new boyfriend?”
Rose shook her head and glanced around the restaurant while her friend continued to fill her in on more home happenings. As Cassie talked, images of Brattleboro floated through Rose’s mind: shoppers at the food co-op picking up their supplies, members of the church discussing the next fundraiser, friends and cust
omers at the boutique browsing and chatting at the store.
She wasn’t a part of their world any longer. Food and chats seemed trivial. No one understood that Dahlia’s murder separated and marked Rose as different from others.
“I brought your mail from the store,” Cassie said, finished with her last topic. She dug in her purse and produced a pile of envelopes.
Rose picked up the top one and read the personal note at the bottom of the card. Your sister was a special person. She always greeted me and asked about my husband who was ill. Her concern for a stranger touched my life.
“I’ve something to tell you,” Cassie announced. “It’s why I came today.”
“Okay.” Rose’s throat ached with tears. Her gaze fell on the next envelope addressed to her at the Blues Sisters. She ripped open the flap. A picture of a rose bouquet decorated the card’s cover. Inside she read the typed message: I know your beautiful hazel eyes, your soft blonde hair. You can close this card, and I’ll be gone. Or will I? Maybe I’m nearby, watching you at your shop or following you over the river to your Ledgeview apartment. I’m everywhere.
Below the sender wrote a link instead of a name. What the heck was this? Her pulse leaped into high gear. She snapped the card shut and shot glimpses around the restaurant.
“What is it?” Cassie asked. Are you okay?”
She would stay calm. Some whacko wouldn’t get to her. She held up the envelope. “This doesn’t have a postmark.”
“I found it under the boutique door a couple of days ago. What did it say?” Cassie bit her lip. “It must be bad. You look awful.”
Rose tapped the card against the table. “This is one of those disgusting, unsigned, I’m watching you messages. I was shocked for a second, but I’m okay now.”
“No wonder you’re upset,” Cassie’s voice wobbled. “I should have read the greetings. A lot of mean people live in the world.”
“Cas, have you seen A.J.? Is he still in Vermont?”
