The detective walked over to Rory. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Sorry I didn’t see where they went.”
“That’s not your job. It’s ours. I wish you would stop interfering in police business.”
“I didn’t know someone had broken into the house. I wouldn’t have gone in the backyard if I had.”
“Tell me what happened.”
After she explained her reason for being there, he said, “There were two of them?”
“That’s right. One taller than the other. Teenagers, I think. At least the one voice I heard sounded like a male about that age. They had on black hoodies that hid their faces. Sleeves rolled up to the elbow. I remember thinking it odd, it’s hot and they’re in long-sleeve sweatshirts and long pants.”
“Anything else you remember? Any distinguishing marks?”
Something niggled at the back of her brain, but no matter how hard Rory tried she couldn’t figure out what it was. Finally, she gave up and said, “Not that I can think of. Only one of them talked. I can’t even be sure they were both male.”
He wrote down the information in his notepad. “Did they have anything in their hands?”
“Not when they left. One of them dropped something next to the bookcase. That’s where they were when I saw them, in the living room at the back of the house next to the kitchen.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Rory saw a police car pull up and park in the driveway. A rotund man in a uniform climbed out of the car and walked toward them.
She sucked in her breath. She leaned down and said in a whisper, “What’s the chief doing here?”
He continued writing without looking up. “He owns the place.”
Rory stepped back. “Really?”
He glanced up and nodded. “Really.”
Chief Marshall nodded at her then addressed the detective. “What have we got?”
As Detective Green explained what he knew so far, Rory studied the chief of police. When she saw him at the press conference the other day, she hadn’t noticed how tired and worn out he looked. The weight of the world appeared to be pressing down on his broad shoulders, or at least the weight of keeping the residents of Vista Beach safe.
The chief turned to her. “Show me where you were standing when you saw them and where they were.” He led the way down the side of the house into the backyard, the other two trailing behind him. She pointed to the spot at the bottom of the steps where she’d been standing when she first spotted the intruders.
“Why were you in the backyard in the first place?” Chief Marshall asked. “Do you make a habit of snooping in your neighbor’s yards?”
“I was driving by and saw someone going through the side gate. I figured it was Lance so I followed. I wanted to talk to him about Sekhmet, Willow’s cat. I’m taking care of her right now.”
Detective Green examined the lock on the French doors. “No signs of a break-in. Whoever was here had a key. Or it was unlocked. What were they doing when you saw them?”
“They were over by the bookcase.” She pointed toward the sitting area of the large room. “One of them took something off the top shelf. Dropped it as soon as they heard me and took off.”
Detective Green motioned for her to stay on the deck while he and Chief Marshall entered the house through the French doors, careful to touch as little as possible with their gloved hands. When they reached the bookcase, the detective bent down to study something on the oak floor.
Chief Marshall stared down at the item, a puzzled look on his face. Rory craned her neck trying to see what they’d found, but a sofa obstructed her view.
“What’s that? A wood box?” the chief finally said.
The detective picked up the painted box and held it in front of him. “From the right angle, it looks like a bunch of books.”
“That’s one of Willow’s trompley projects then,” the chief said.
Rory puzzled over his words until she realized what he meant. “Loy. It’s pronounced tromp-loy,” she said under her breath from her position near the back door. “It means trick the eye,” she said in a louder voice so they could hear.
Chief Marshall waved a hand as if the information was unimportant.
“There’s a small hole in the front and a camera inside it,” Detective Green said. “The SD card’s missing.” He looked at the bookcase. “We’ll look at the crime scene photos to confirm, but I think it was right there.” He pointed to an empty spot on the top shelf and looked to Rory for confirmation. After she nodded her agreement, he stood next to the bookcase and looked in the direction the books would have been facing. “Looks like the camera had a view of the kitchen.”
“So it could have recorded Willow’s murder.” Chief Marshall frowned. “You’re better than this, Green. Why didn’t you find this earlier?”
The detective’s face closed down.
“Lance was looking at that spot when I found him in here the other day,” Rory said. “He must have known the camera was there.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Detective Green asked through tight lips.
“He lives here.”
“Not officially,” Chief Marshall said. “We’ll look into it.” He turned to the detective. “Get everyone out here again and do a sweep for more cameras. The entire house. Now.”
While Detective Green pulled out his phone, the chief looked at Rory and said, “You can go home now. Don’t say a word about this to anyone.”
Rory nodded and retraced her steps to the front yard where she found Veronica leaning against the police car. Notebook in hand, the reporter headed toward Rory who prepared to say “No comment” to anything she asked. But Veronica brushed past her as if she weren’t there and accosted the chief of police as he came through the gate. “You own this house, don’t you, Chief? Is that why you were here the night your tenant died? Collecting rent? Or was it more personal?”
His face turned red. He opened his mouth to say something, then clamped it shut and brushed past her.
“How about a security system? The house doesn’t have one, does it? You’re the chief of police—why not? Is it because you don’t want the city’s residents to think it’s not safe here?” Veronica continued to pepper him with questions about the safety of his property and the city all the way back to his car, not stopping until he drove away.
As soon as he was gone, the reporter zeroed in on Rory. “Did you know the chief owned the house? What were you both doing in the backyard? Did something else happen?”
Rory held up her hand and uttered a “No comment” to every question the reporter asked. Once she realized Rory wasn’t going to say anything else, Veronica turned away and headed back toward Willow’s house where she ducked under the police tape and disappeared into the backyard.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Rory walked toward her house. She was almost at her own driveway when she encountered Mrs. Quakenbush, the neighbor on the other side of Willow’s property, walking toward her with her toy poodle in her arms.
The woman stopped and nodded at the crime scene personnel who had arrived. “What’s going on? What’s with the police tape around Willow’s house?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“We were out of town for a few days at our property in Big Bear. Trying to stay cool, you know. Everything was fine when we left, and we came back to this.” She gestured toward the yellow tape around Willow’s house.
“I’m afraid Willow’s dead. She was murdered.”
Mrs. Quakenbush’s eyes widened. “In her house?”
“Afraid so. I found her last Saturday. The police think she was killed Friday evening.”
The woman sucked in her breath and tightened the hold on her dog. “We left on our trip Saturday morning. You mean she was killed while we were home? Have the police caught him yet?”
“Him?”
“There was this man hanging around. I saw him in Willow’s backyard peeking into her window Friday night.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I was going to, but he must have seen me because he hightailed it out of there. I figured there was nothing the police could do. I saw him head down our street and watched to make sure he didn’t return. I didn’t see him the rest of the night.”
“What did he look like?”
“About your height, maybe a little shorter. Thirtyish. Beard. Wore shorts and a t-shirt.”
Rory pulled up the picture of Kit and Buddy on her phone. “Is this the man you saw?”
Mrs. Quakenbush stared at the photo. “Yep, that’s him.”
“What about today? Did you see anyone over at Willow’s house?”
“Was there another break-in? What’s going on in this city? It used to be such a safe place. Do you think the two things are related?”
“Maybe. Did you notice anything?”
She shook her head. “I was walking Toodles here.” She glanced down at the dog in her arms. “I suppose walking is a bit of a stretch. She’s getting older so it’s more of a half-walk, half-carry. She enjoys the fresh air.”
“The police are looking into it now. They’ll probably be by to talk with you soon.”
“If I remember anything, I’ll be sure to tell them.”
Rory walked toward her front door, then changed her mind and headed back to Willow’s house to tell Detective Green what Mrs. Quakenbush had said about Kit. She thought about what the woman had told her. As Rory had suspected, Kit was at Willow’s the night she was killed. He must have seen something that scared him. If only he could tell them what it was, they might know who had killed her neighbor.
Later that afternoon, Rory made her way down the hospital hallway. As she drew near to her destination, she heard a voice coming from Kit’s room. Hoping that meant he was awake and feeling better, she increased her pace. She stopped in the doorway and looked inside the room to find Tripp sitting in a chair beside the unconscious man’s bedside, reading from a book.
Rory leaned against the doorframe and watched as he read from a well-worn copy of Treasure Island. She smiled to herself as she listened to his gentle voice relate the tale of the adventures of Jim Hawkins.
He must have sensed her presence because he stopped at the end of a sentence and turned his head in her direction. A smile lit up his face when he saw her.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Rory said.
Tripp closed the book and placed it on the bedside table. “You’re not. I just finished the chapter. My voice was getting tired anyway.”
She stepped into the room and stood at the end of the bed. She nodded toward Kit. “How’s he doing?”
Tripp sighed and sat back in his chair. “The head wound’s not an issue anymore, but he still has an infection. No change there. He’s on some pretty heavy antibiotics. I won’t lie to you, I’m a little worried.”
“It’s nice of you to stop by.”
“I didn’t want him to be alone. I wanted to make sure he knew someone cared.”
Rory’s heart melted. Not many people would take the time to visit someone they barely knew in the hospital, let alone read to him.
She nodded toward the book he’d been reading from. “Why Treasure Island?”
“It’s his favorite.”
Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. “How do you know that?”
“He mentioned it one time at the church.”
“I thought everyone picked up their lunches and left.”
“Sometimes I put a few chairs out in the lot and sit down with some of our guests. I talk to them while they eat. I’ve had some interesting conversations. Kit and I talked for quite a while about the books we enjoyed reading as kids.”
“What’s your favorite book?” she said curiously.
He nodded toward the table. “Treasure Island. That’s my copy. I’ve had it ever since I was a child. It was one of the few books we owned. My sister and I both read it over and over again.” He smiled to himself. “The adventure of it all seemed so wonderful. Maybe that’s why I do so much traveling now. How about you?”
“I’m not sure I have a favorite. I liked a lot of things. The Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle books were fun and Encyclopedia Brown, The Mouse and the Motorcycle…”
“Sounds like you were quite the reader.” Tripp stood up, stuffed the book in his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “Well, I need to get going.”
As he passed by her, she reached out to touch his arm. She looked into his eyes and said, “You’re a good man.”
He blushed and shook his head slightly.
Chapter 15
Later that night, Rory settled down in front of her computer and tried to work, but her mind kept going back to the thieves who had entered Willow’s house. She wondered if the intruders were responsible for the earlier break-in or the spate of burglaries that had been plaguing neighboring cities. They hadn’t disturbed much, but Rory didn’t know if that was because she’d interrupted them or because they’d gotten what they came for—the SD card from the hidden camera.
She leaned back in her desk chair and swiveled it back and forth. If the teens had gone there to steal the card, someone must have told them exactly where to find the camera. It wouldn’t be obvious to the casual observer. Lance could have hired them. He was jealous enough he might have planted the camera himself to check up on Willow when he wasn’t around. He could have been trying to get rid of it when she saw him the other day. He had been looking at the shelf where it was found.
Rory stopped swiveling and sat up straight in her chair when she thought of another possibility. Willow could have put the camera there herself, but Rory didn’t understand why she would do something like that. Unless she was using the recordings to blackmail people. She had seen at least one client in the privacy of her home, maybe there had been others. Anyone who didn’t want to be seen going to her shop might be willing to pay to keep their secret. Which meant one of her victims could have hired the teens to get the evidence back. The average person probably wouldn’t consent to being blackmailed though. It would have to be someone who was famous or who would lose their job if the truth came out. She made a mental note to ask Liz if she knew of anyone in the city who matched that description.
She shook her head. Both of the theories were a possibility, but she had no idea how to figure out if either one was true. One thing she could do was look for the jewelry stolen when Willow was killed. She’d promised Detective Green she would look through some online auction sites on the off chance she would find one of the items.
Rory scooted her chair closer to her desk and began searching sites, scrolling through pages of amber watches and rings, trying to find one that looked familiar. She tried site after site until her eyes were so tired she found it difficult to focus. One more, she told herself, and she would call it quits.
When another page appeared on her display, Rory blinked several times, leaned closer to the screen and stared at an amber ring. The stone was typical of many other pieces of jewelry she’d seen in her search, but the setting was unusual. She studied the pictures of the item showing its various sides until she was sure it was the ring she’d seen on Willow’s finger. She checked the user who was auctioning off the item to see what else they were selling. A photo of an amber bracelet watch appeared on the screen, one that Rory was positive she’d last seen on Willow’s wrist. The information on both pieces indicated they’d been put up for auction three days after her neighbor’s death.
Rory copied the name of the seller and auction site data into a file and sent it to Detective Green’s email address. Once the information had been sent, she set to work preparing the house for her guest. As she cleaned and tidied, she wondered if she was making a mistake letting Teresa stay wi
th her. Even though Willow had been her friend, Teresa had a motive to kill her. Willow’s decision to reveal the other woman’s one night stand had changed her life forever. Rory went to bed that night wondering if she’d invited a murderer into her home.
* * *
Thursday morning, the heat wave finally broke, dropping the temperature to a more tolerable level. A breeze once again flowed inland off the ocean, cooling down the city’s residents.
A row of faces stared down at Rory from the second floor of the steel and glass structure that housed the Vista Beach library. The chairs facing the windows were filled with patrons reading or working on laptops. They only had to look up to take in a breathtaking view of the ocean and pier.
When she visited Kit earlier that morning his condition had alarmed her enough that she dropped everything and headed to the library where the homeless man spent a considerable amount of time to see if anyone had information that could help her find his family.
Rory entered the building and wended her way through the tables filled with library patrons toward the information desk. In a quiet voice, she showed Kit’s photo to the librarian seated behind the desk and asked her if she knew him.
“Kit’s something special. We’ve had a lot of interesting conversations. On my lunch break, we often sit outside and talk.” The woman tucked her long hair behind her ears and nodded toward the courtyard that surrounded two sides of the building. “He comes inside too, of course—everyone’s welcome here—but he doesn’t stay long. Doesn’t want to leave Buddy by himself too much. I always make sure the dog has water and something to eat when Kit’s inside.” The woman frowned. “I haven’t seen either of them in a while.”
“Kit’s in the hospital,” Rory said.
“Sorry to hear that. Nothing serious, I hope.”
“We’re not sure. I’m trying to find out his last name so we can contact his relatives.”
“Must be serious if you’re looking for family. I’m afraid I can’t help you though. We never talked about his past.” The librarian glanced over at a table where a homeless man was sitting, arms draped over the backpack on the table in front of him, head resting on top of the rough canvas. “Excuse me a minute.” She walked over to the table and gently touched the dozing man on the shoulder. “Marco, it’s time to take a walk, okay? No sleeping in the library.”
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