by Nora LeDuc
“Gotten, but he’s capable and—”
“I want him far away from our investigation.” The Chief’s face reddened. “We’re under the microscope. We can’t afford a mistake, and I can’t explain one made by a man who’s not even on the force. How would his involvement look to outsiders? If Frank made a break in the case, the anti tax group will want to cut our department and fill it with senior volunteers.”
Luke bit back the urge to contradict the analysis of Frank’s situation.
The Chief drummed his fingers on the desk. “Did your source interview anyone from the suspect’s yearbook?”
“He talked with the school secretary, who gave us history on A.J.’s family and an ex girlfriend. We followed up with an interview of the prior girlfriend who swore A.J. never abused her or other women.”
“Neither did most of the serial killers we’ve put away. Most of their girlfriends are in denial and will protest the monsters’ innocence while they sit convicted, waiting for the juice to light up their chairs. What’s the family background?”
“A.J. Edward’s father was an accountant for a car dealership and embezzled from it. While his parent was imprisoned, A.J. and his mom lived with his uncle, a mechanic. His mother worked low wage jobs and moved around a lot. She finally abandoned him at his uncle’s. The mother and uncle are now deceased. We’re trying to locate the uncle’s daughter, Edwards’ cousin. They were once close and she may know where he’d go.”
“Edwards grew up in a family where a role model was a thief.” The Chief shook his head. “What are you waiting for? Get on it.”
Luke scrambled to his feet.
“Remember, I hired you because of your experience and recommendations. Don’t make me regret it. Confidence in oneself is good, but overconfidence leads to mistakes. Solve the case with your men. Now.”
“I will, sir. We’ll get our killer.” The Chief’s assessment of his personality grated on his nerves. He fought the urge to argue. “One more thing before I go. While you were gone, the Mayor approved a tip line that’s running with volunteers and a donated reward for information leading to arrest and conviction specifically in the Blue homicide. I nominated Mike Conroy to head it.”
“I’d prefer we gather tips for both homicides through our lines, but as long as we pay nothing toward it, I’m in favor of it. Conroy can gather the information from the volunteers on his free time. What are you waiting for, Lennox? Need a tip to go back to work?”
“No, sir, but Chief, I’m going on record as saying Rose Blue didn’t kill her sister, and I’ll prove it by arresting the person who did.”
“I don’t care if Miss Blue’s a princess from Jordan. If she’s guilty arrest her. If she’s not, arrest whoever is and do it immediately. Then I can alert the Mayor that he can give his news conference that we’ve captured the homicidal maniac.”
Luke turned to leave.
“And Lennox, get a haircut and shave before the press conference.”
“Yes, sir.” He headed for his cubicle and caught the snickers of Conroy with a group of uniforms crowded round a computer monitor a few feet away from the Chief’s office. One of the uniforms slapped Conroy on the back. “Way to go. Play it again.”
“Hey, Conroy, I’ve got something for you.”
Conroy walked away from the group and stood in front of him. The hint of amusement in his eyes faded, and his bottom lip stuck out. The aroma of a weak coffee emanated from the paper cup in his hand. “Have a nice chat with the boss?”
Luke’s mind whirled with suspicion. “Been watching YouTube?”
“What? I don’t have time for computer videos.” Conroy slid a glance at the men who burst into grins.
Yeah, the guy couldn’t even lie. “Never mind, I’ve a hunch about the attack on Shauna Smith. Come into my office.” Luke marched to his cubicle aware Conroy lagged behind. “The Chief wants you to re-interview everyone around the parking garage and give me the report to read before you brief him.”
“If the Chief wants confirmation, I’ll do it today.”
Luke grabbed A.J.’s yearbook off the file cabinet. He handed the book to Conroy. “I need you to research all of A.J.’s classmates and interview each one. Give me your team’s findings by the end of the week. We’re also on the hunt for his cousin, Nancy Burger.”
Conroy stared down at the thick yearbook. His smirk faded away.
Luke shoved the book into the man’s folded arms. “Knock yourself out.”
“I’m on it.” Conroy snarled and turned to the exit.
“Wait. I almost forgot the most important news. You’re now the head of the new tip line. The Mayor is thrilled. Be sure to offer training for the volunteers. Chief wants you to set it up on your free time, and he’ll expect a daily report. Have a good one.”
“Daily?” Conroy let out a gruff sound and stomped from the office.
“Don’t spill your coffee.” At least, Luke had a suspect for the source of his YouTube problems. No surprise there. Conroy was probably emailing the link to everyone on his wife’s Christmas list. At his desk, Luke opened his laptop and was about to search for directions to A. J.’s hometown when the urge to go to his Facebook page struck him. He signed in and clicked on his wall.
A few postings loaded on his page. One caught his attention. “Recommend Al James in Narragansett, Rhode Island. He worked on my baby and now she purrs.”
“Alan James or A.J., I guess I better pay you a visit.” Luke called Rose and learned Frank was at her apartment. “Is it calm on your end?”
“Not really, guess who called me today?” Rose couldn’t wait for his answer. “A.J.”
“What did he want?” Their main suspect was calling Rose. The Chief would add that to the evidence of a co-conspirator list.
“He found out about Cassie, and I’ve his number.”
“With luck, I’ve already zeroed in on him. He’s in Rhode Island.” Forget the conspiracy theory. If A.J. was guilty and calling Rose, he could be done toying with her and setting her up for his kill. Luke wasn’t letting her out of his sight. “I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes. Put Frank on.”
“I will in a minute. I wanted you to know. I called Cassie’s mom. She’s devastated. She’s having a small private funeral next week and emphasized I wasn’t invited. I sensed she blamed me for her daughter’s death. She kept repeating if only Cassie hadn’t come to visit me she’d be alive.” Rose’s voice tightened and sounded hoarse.
“It’s grief. Don’t accept the responsibility.”
“Right. Here’s Frank.”
“Hey, Lennox,” Frank’s deep voice boomed over the phone.
“Frank, sorry, but as of today, you’re back in the civilian ranks.”
The older man didn’t answer. Hell, he was taking it hard. “I talked to the Chief—”
“No problem, Luke, I need to start planning my garden. The crocuses popped up yesterday. Spring’s arrived, and the flowers won’t wait for me to clean up my yard.”
“Frank, if keeping you on was up to me…”
“Don’t worry. When I heard the Chief was back, I doubted I’d be on your case much longer. The Chief is a by the book type of guy, and he doesn’t use old geezers on his investigations. Most people think we should be playing board games.”
“As long as you can make the winning chess moves, you’re good. Take care, Frank.”
Chapter 23
Rose met Lennox in the alley of the Blues Sisters Boutique. The afternoon sun beat down on her and promised warmth. She’d swap out jackets while she was home.
Lennox wearing walked down the narrow lane to her in his familiar leather jacket and jeans. Now that Frank was back in the civilian ranks, it didn’t make sense to expect him to guard or babysit her any longer. Besides, she was a capable adult. Despite Lennox’s protests, she’d insisted on driving herself, and he insisted on following her.
“Welcome, Lennox, to my shop.”
“Love the view.” Green dumpsters lined
the curb near the brick buildings.
“I’m putting it on a postcard. Most of the buildings house specialty stores on the street level and apartments on the second.” She dug out her keys. “Usually when I open the boutique, I get a rush thinking what the day will bring.
“Today, when I think Cassie spent her last days inside, I’d rather visit a nest of spiders.”
She twisted the key in the lock.
“The local uniforms have cleared the building. You’re safe.”
“I hope I don’t get images of Cassie—imaginary or real—when I go in.”
“She liked your shop and loved you. Only good vibes are here.”
Rose pushed the door open and waited for him to cross the threshold. “Knock yourself out, Lennox. I know you want to inspect every corner.”
“I want to test the locks. You’re not staying alone if your security is like your protection at Dahlia’s Ledgeview apartment.”
“Blues Sisters boasts an excellent alarm system.” She walked into the back room and halted. In the daylight pouring through the open door sat rows of boxes piled to the ceiling.
He gestured to the twelve-by-fourteen foot space packed with boxes of various sizes. “Is this the order your friend accepted”
“I hope not. I’ll be broke. You can visit me at my cardboard shelter by the river.” She browsed through the stacks. “These are marked Dahlia’s apartment rooms.”
She flipped on the overhead and pulled the door shut. “Cassie and I spoke on the phone about packing my sister’s belongings. I never guessed she owned so much.”
“Did she have a big place?”
“She rented a three room. Her closets were small, but she could be a pack rat. She loved to save things.” Rose bent to a short stack of the boxes at her knee level. “This one is sealed with tape and was mailed to Dahlia.”
Lennox removed a knife from his pocket and slit the tape. Rose dug into the containers and held up a flimsy, crimson teddy with the price tag still attached. She flicked the ticket over and read the name of the store. “My sister couldn’t afford their prices. I don’t get it.” She read the tag again. No she hadn’t made a mistake.
“Maybe the lingerie was a gift.”
“From who?” Rose felt her eyes pop wide.
“Try this one.” Lennox slid a box off the top row next to him and laid it at her feet. “The label is addressed to your sister, and the return address lists the retailer your twin couldn’t afford.”
He slit the seal and opened the flaps. Inside lay lingerie of various colors and styles but all in the same size, Dahlia’s. “I can’t believe my sister spent money, probably our money on …underwear!”
“We found out what your sister did with at least part of the money she stole from you.”
Rose scanned the labels of the closed two-by-three foot cartons resting on their break table and threw her arms out. What was going on? “The store must have delivered them to the wrong address, and Dahlia wasn’t home to return the merchandise. Cassie brought the boxes here when she packed.”
“They keyed in her order enough to fill at least six boxes and never noticed the mistake?” he asked, browsing through the rows.
“I guess that’s not the answer.” Rose shook her head and grabbed another container to search. Inside were thongs of sheer fabric in a multitude of colors. “I can’t believe it.” She clenched the fabric in her hand. “Dahlia, what did you do?” Her sister was never satisfied or happy, and Rose or Gram were always stuck trying to get her out of her mess.
“The question is why she bought the lingerie? Did she have a fetish or a plan to add them to you store?”
“She should have mentioned if she wanted to add to our clothing line.”
“Did she ever model?”
Rose shook her head. All of this was Dahlia’s. “My sister almost financially ruined the Blues Sisters, but if you added up what she spent on panties and bras, plus the two apartments she’d bleed red.” Rose sank on top of the lone box at her feet. The light pressure of his hand on her back reassured and calmed her first round of panic. “Why didn’t Cassie let me know about all of this?”
“Maybe she knew you wouldn’t approve, or she thought you were aware of Dahlia’s buying spree.”
“I can’t believe Cassie didn’t bring up the subject at lunch. She must have noticed the address on the boxes when she brought them over.”
“Maybe she planned to tell you and changed her mind. Did she know Dahlia had a problem?”
“She was aware of some theft episodes. I don’t know how many.”
“Don’t you find it odd she drove a couple of hours to eat with you in the middle of a work day?”
“I thought she was worried about me. Do you think she really came to let me know something about Dahlia and her purchases?”
“It’s a good possibility.” He swept a hand over his overgrown hair.
“Cassie did at one point want to say something important.” Rose searched her memory. “Then she talked about closing the store early one night a week. I guess we’ll never know the entire truth.” Rose jumped up and dug out a flimsy red bra. She dangled it from her fingertips. “Of course, Dahlia ordered top of the line. Only the most expensive was good enough for my sister. Never mind, we might go broke. What was she thinking?”
“At least she had good taste.”
Rose shook her head and read the date stamped on the label. “This order was mailed while she was engaged. It’s not like she went off the deep end when she and A.J. were over and dealt with her breakup by shopping.”
“I bet when we speak to A.J. he can explain her purchases.”
An ache formed in Rose’s chest. How much debt had her sister gotten herself into? The flimsy red panty seemed to answer her, and she sank onto the box. “Maybe she developed a lingerie fetish.”
“Think motive. Why did your sister buy boxes of underwear?”
“Some of the garments must be her normal clothes from her apartment.” The idea didn’t help her feel better. At least Rose wouldn’t have to help Dahlia figure a payment plan, though Rose would need to work on a return arrangement.
An old memory crashed back into her consciousness. Rose was fourteen and in the two bunk bedroom, staring at the small statue of the unicorn on her sister’s nightstand. A warning rumbled in her mind.
Their next door neighbor kept a unicorn on her coffee table and called the statue her lucky charm. Dahlia had headed to their house to babysit yesterday.
The unicorn’s presence meant one thing. Dahlia was stealing again and from people who trusted her. Dahlia had lied to Gram when she told her she’d beat her problem. The old episodes were starting again. Rose would have to tell Gram and somehow return the unicorn to the neighbor’s. The sick feeling cramped in Rose’s stomach.
Now her sister was older and she’d moved on to other problems. “My sister was a thief. That’s her motive. I bet she bought the lingerie with our store’s money. I’m going over our books again. Maybe Dahlia charged her purchases to the Blues Sisters and left town because she couldn’t pay her bill and knew I was about to discover the debt.” She wove between the boxes to the computer desk in the corner.
“We need to trace the source of her money.”
Rose dropped into the work chair. “When Dahlia stole from the boutique, I had to apply for a short term loan. I was sweating the end of the month bills.” Rose flicked the on switch for her monitor. While the machine booted up, her mind searched for other reasons for Dahlia’s purchases.
“Rose?” Lennox stood next to her and pointed. “Does this door lead into your shop?”
She grabbed her purse off the desk and dug out her key ring. “It’s the gold one. Knock yourself out.”
He disappeared into the other room.
She brought up the figures for the boutique’s last three months. She’d done the same thing when Rose confessed to stealing. None of the missing money equaled the amount Dahlia paid for the fancy lingerie, rent
s and deposit fee.
“What did you do, Dahlia?” Rose put her head in her hand. Closing her eyes, she concentrated. “Answer me. What’s the truth?” Did dead women lie?
“Rose?” Lennox stood in the doorway.
“Did you find anything?”
“No boxes in the other room. Any changes in your finances?”
“I didn’t discover anything new.” She swiveled the chair toward him. “I’m going to call the department store and return whatever I can. I’m not sure how much they’ll accept. I wonder if the bill is on her credit card with my name. I’m calling the bank. I don’t want to be charged for her purchases.”
“I went through all her credit statements from the last two years. Nothing popped out. She’s paid up and no big purchases were due. As you know, no luck finding her laptop or outstanding emails from her ISP.”
“Thank goodness, your news is the one good piece of information today.” She bowed her head for a second and closed her eyes tight.
People who steal are punished when they die, Gram always lectured.
Was Dahlia’s horrible death her punishment?
“Rose.” The touch of Lennox’s hand on her shoulder drew her attention to him.
“Finish up,” he said in his quiet steady voice, “and we’ll head home. We can stop at the store where Dahlia bought her fancy underwear. Then I’m driving to Rhode Island.”
“I’m going with you, Lennox. We can drop my car off at my place. I live a couple of blocks away, and we can pick it up on the way back.” She slipped her hand into his and stood up. “We’ll find A.J. He must know something.” Thank God, she had Lennox.
“I’ll get him. You’re staying safe.”
“I can ID him for you and how much safer will I be than with you, unless you’re planning a shoot out?” She tilted her head and waited.
“You stay in the car.”
She jumped to her feet. “Let’s go.”
In half an hour, they’d dropped off Rose’s car at her Brattleboro apartment, and headed to the store where they learned Dahlia personally bought all her purchases with cash. The sales clerk remembered Dahlia, always alone, came twice during a two month period, explaining the merchandise was for her business, but the clerk offered no other information.
