by Mayer, Dale
“If we’re going to talk business, we need privacy,” he explained. “There’s an awful lot we need to discuss.”
“Unless you have anything new, there’s nothing I can add,” she said smoothly.
“An IT friend of mine looked closely into Marsha’s background, specifically for friends, since you keep asking me about that element. Even given the current social media climate, she found very little. But the same individual kept coming up as a contact person, both for Marsha’s rental agreements as well as her medical insurance records. A cousin.”
Alex tilted her head. “I already have that name and spoke to her. They are not close.”
“Seems to be the pattern with Marsha.” He leaned back and smiled. “So have you found the intruder?”
She just raised an eyebrow. “You know we haven’t.”
Macklin nodded. “You haven’t. Have you considered maybe it was a woman?”
Alex felt the color drain from her face. She leaned forward, her gaze locking on his, and said, “No. I hadn’t. Why?”
“Tall, lean. Dressed in a way to not define the sex of the intruder. Plus, he did not rape the last woman, even though she was unconscious.”
Alex tapped her pencil on the tabletop as she processed the suggestion. Even those who saw the intruder had said it was male. “If she was very tall, she might have passed as male,” she said slowly, still thinking about it. “Yes, it does help explain the reason why the last woman wasn’t raped. Not all intruders are rapists, however.”
“No, that’s very true. But it might also give you another connection to the four women. … What if Marsha knew them?”
“Well, that’s a possibility I hadn’t considered. We have no forensic evidence, no fingerprints or DNA to say either way.” She turned her head to stare off in the far corner. Even the neighbor had said it was a male. Tall, slim, white skin, but he could only see so much in the gloom. No way to tell male versus female. “If she didn’t have a curvy build and was wearing a jacket …” She slumped back in her chair and thought about it. “No reason it couldn’t have been a female, let’s put it that way.”
“But there are a lot of reasons for it to be a female. She might very well have known all four women.”
“Possibly, but it could be a male for the same reason. One of the women’s boyfriends did have a fight with the intruder. I’ll have to contact him and see if he felt it could be a woman.”
“Particularly because she took off. If it was a physically fit male, it would have been an equal fight, and he might have stayed to pound the guy into the ground a little farther. But instead the person ran away. Correct?”
“Correct,” she said. She pulled out her notepad and jotted down a note. It was an interesting concept.
“Was Marsha a lesbian?” Alex asked.
“If you mean, did we have sex? The answer is yes.”
Alex nodded. “But that doesn’t mean she didn’t have sexual relations with women in her life too.”
The waitress returned a few moments later. She carried two plates heaped high with waffles.
Alex stared down at them. “I didn’t order these.”
“I ordered them,” Macklin said with relish. He rubbed his hands together. “No problem if you can’t eat all of yours. I’ll finish those too.”
She stared at the size of them and at the number of them on each plate. “These are big, even for you.”
“Like hell,” he said naturally. He shoved the paperwork to the side and moved his plate in front of him. He attacked it with a vengeance.
“Hungry by any chance?”
“Yep. By the time we got back to my friend’s place, and I settled on the couch for the rest of the night, it was the wee hours of the morning. I didn’t sleep well because I wasn’t in my bed.”
She nodded. “Still, it’s a smart idea to have somebody with you right now.”
“Yep. Safety in numbers.” He took another bite, and she watched love wash over his face. He settled back with a happy sigh and chewed.
She couldn’t even look at her own plate because she was too busy watching his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody enjoy food quite the same as you are now.”
When he could, he chuckled. “I do like my groceries.” He cut another piece, forked it up, and chewed it slowly.
She surveyed the plate in front of her: three big waffles covered in fresh strawberries and whipping cream all over the top. Her stomach was growling already, but she couldn’t imagine putting all of this down, even if she was famished. She had gotten into the habit of not eating enough, and what she did eat was crappy when it came to nutrition. She cut her first bite and tasted it. The waffles were fresh, crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, and incredibly flavorful. Often waffles themselves were just a carrier for the fruit and whipping cream. But these had a hint of cinnamon and a little bit of vanilla in them. She swallowed and said, “These are delicious.”
Macklin nodded, but he didn’t waste any energy talking.
She grinned at his focus and singular determination to enjoy his meal. It was a pleasure to watch him. He was the kind of guy her mother would have loved cooking for. Her mom hadn’t done any cooking in a long time, but, back in the day, when Alex was young, her mom had enjoyed cooking and taking food to the office.
By the time she was halfway through her waffles, she slowed down. After a few more bites, she put down her fork and moved her plate aside. One full waffle and one-third of another were left. But the strawberries and whipping cream were long gone. She reached for her coffee and realized her cup was empty. Pushing back her chair, she walked to the sideboard and filled her cup. “Do you want a refill?”
“Yes, please.”
She brought the pot over and saw his plate was empty. “Do you want the rest of mine?”
He looked at her plate and smiled. “Oh, yeah. Thank you.”
“Sorry about the lack of cream and berries.”
“Not a problem.” He finished her plate off in what seemed like four or five bites.
When he stacked the empty plates out of the way and rubbed his tummy, she had to laugh. “I guess it takes lot of food to feed somebody your size.”
“It does. Lots of it and often.” He looked at the rest of the paperwork as he dragged it toward him. “Is there anything else here we need to discuss?”
“There’s nothing we need to discuss. This is my investigation,” she said, adding a cool note to her tone. It wouldn’t do him any good to think he was involved in this investigation. “I need you to stay clear of trouble while I get to the bottom of it.”
“Okay. I’ll continue doing what I can on my side, and you do what you do officially.” He lifted his gaze and gave her a hard smile. “Just don’t tell me to back off.”
She sat back in her chair. “You’re going to be difficult, aren’t you?”
“It’s my life. Wouldn’t you want to consider the aspects of a murder investigation if somebody was trying to pin it on you?”
She frowned and mentally gave him a point for that one. “If you don’t interfere with my investigation, it’s fine.”
“I have no problem with that. I spoke to Bill this morning.”
She growled. “He was on my list to call.”
“Well, now he’s expecting your call.”
She shook her head. “And that’s interfering with my investigation.”
*
Macklin looked at her. He’d hoped she’d ease up on him if he had arranged breakfast. And it seemed to work, at least for a while. He leaned forward. “Come on. Bill is a friend. Once he understood what the problem was, he had no hesitation talking to you. I needed to know for myself if he thought someone was against me when we were in BUD/S training. He was the logical person to ask.” He added in a low voice, “So don’t get mad at me. I need to know if anybody might have had a reason to do this to me. He was just one of the people I contacted to look for information.”
He watched as she calmed do
wn slightly. She was fun to get riled up, but, at the same time, she could turn snippy. He liked that about her. He also liked the fact she was pushing back inside her investigation. He liked women with backbone. Of course she couldn’t be easygoing and deal with criminals all day.
“Would you like to go out for a drink one night?” He froze. He hadn’t expected that to come out. But it looked like she was even more shocked than he was.
She narrowed her gaze as if accessing if there was a true sense of attraction or if he was trying to be manipulative.
He settled back and grinned. “I didn’t expect that to come out,” he admitted. “But it’s a great idea.”
She continued to stare at him. “Remember the part where we shouldn’t be spending time together while you’re a suspect?”
“Remember that part about clearing me so I’m no longer a suspect?” he countered.
She chuckled. The sound was joyous as it rebounded around the room. “Yes, I do remember. You’re certainly sliding down the list, but you’re not off it completely.”
“The only time it’s a good thing not to be at the top of the class,” he said, laughing.
“What else did Bill have to say?”
“He said some of the guys who didn’t make the cut were angry. They felt my size gave me an advantage in some of the endurance tasks.”
She chuckled. “Everybody will always have an excuse as to why they haven’t done as well as somebody else. They just need to look to themselves first and foremost instead of looking for excuses.”
“I agree with you,” Macklin said. “Too often people look for outside reasons, not inside reasons. BUD/S training was more than about size and fitness. It was all about internal strength. That I’ve got in spades.” He watched as she picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, her gaze never leaving his face. He liked that about her. “I like you,” he said, surprise following his words. “I hadn’t expected to.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“After Marsha, I didn’t like very many women,” he admitted. “But you’re different.”
That tumbled a laugh out of her. “In what way?”
“Intelligent. Driven. You don’t take flak from anyone. And of course that spark of chemistry is there.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment.
But he’d been around enough women, had had enough relationships to know what he felt. He also knew it was reciprocated. Whether she wanted to admit it or not.
But how she reacted would tell him a lot about who she was.
She gave him a small nod and said, “Yes, I feel it. That doesn’t mean I’ll do anything about it.”
He leaned back and said, “And that’s why I like you again. You’ve got enough self-confidence to step up and say, Yes, there is that same attraction, but it’s not the time or the place. Not that I agree with you,” he said with a smirk. “But I understand your reasons.”
“Then don’t push me,” she said quietly. “Please.”
He gave her a quick nod. “Only until the investigation is over.”
“Talk about being focused and dedicated,” she said. “I should take lessons from you.”
“Nope. But, when I really like something—someone,” he said, “I go after it.”
And damn if he didn’t watch color come up her face to match the heat she felt there. She glanced at her notes and asked, “Don’t you have somewhere to go by now? It’s almost nine.”
“Shit.” He stacked his notes and said, “You’re too much of a distraction.”
“Another reason we shouldn’t meet like this,” she said smoothly.
He rolled his eyes at her. “Nice try.” But he was grinning.
Chapter 8
She chuckled as he walked out with a multifinger wave. He really was something. She wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to do about it, but what she’d said was right. No relationship should occur until after her investigation was done. She didn’t want to get him into any more trouble. Neither did she want to go down that path to find out she’d been very, very wrong. That would leave her with devastating consequences—both professionally and personally.
The waitress returned, collected the empty dishes, and asked if Alex wanted more coffee.
She nodded. “If you don’t mind. Does anybody else need this room, or can I stay here?”
“You have another thirty minutes without any pressure.”
“Excellent. Thank you. I’ll sit here and do some more paperwork then.”
After the waitress left, the table cleared now, Alex brought out all her documents and organized her notes. Everything was convoluted. She needed to update her timeline. What she really wanted was to know who had lived in which house when. The fact that Macklin had theorized the intruder may be female was very interesting.
And she was quite pissed at herself for not having thought of it herself.
It did give her a completely different angle to tug and another possible connection to these four women. Speaking of which, she had the boyfriend who’d fought off the intruder to call. She pulled up her notes, and quickly dialed the number. Luckily the boyfriend was there. She asked him several questions but he wasn’t helpful. His tone was cautious, as he said, “Yes, it’s possible but it could just as easily been a slight male. I didn’t sense anything feminine about him.”
She thanked him and hung up.
She entered her notes into her digital files. She wanted everything organized before her meeting later this morning. Her superiors were looking for results. Realizing she still had a few more minutes, she picked up her phone and called Bill. After introducing herself, she said, “You spoke with Macklin earlier.”
“Yes, I did.”
Bill’s voice was warm with intelligence shining through. She liked that. “What’s Macklin like?”
“He’s everybody’s best friend. He’s loyal. He’s not the type to stab you in the back. And I know for a fact, he’s the kind to give you a hand-up. In one of our endurance tests, I wasn’t going to make it. I was done. But Macklin wouldn’t let me go. He hassled me. He bugged me, and he swore at me—cursed me out—anything he could to make sure I made it through the test. I was so mad I didn’t realize it when I completed the test. That’s the kind of man Macklin is.”
“So you don’t think he could have anything to do with this case.”
“No. I don’t know Marsha myself, but, if she was anything like Macklin told me… I can see a hint of anger in any man if a woman did something like that to him. But to set it up, hit her over the head, and then slice her throat? No. One must wonder why it was done that way. The blow to her head would have rendered her unconscious. Why slice her throat too? To make sure she was dead? Maybe. But then why not hit her over the head again?”
“What’s your theory?”
“I think she was hit over the head so she’d be unconscious. But then, while she was unconscious, why didn’t anything else happen?”
“Something else did happen,” she said drily. “Somebody slit her throat.”
“Sure, but no strength was required for that. When Marsha was already subdued, no force was required to kill her.”
Getting an inclination of what he might be saying, she said, “Meaning, it could have been a woman who did this?”
“Absolutely. It could have been a woman. Marsha could have been sitting on a couch. The blow could have incapacitated her, and the woman could have dragged her from the couch, slit her throat, written Macklin’s name in blood, and left. Nobody would be any the wiser.”
As soon as Alex got off the phone with Bill, she updated her notes and considered the other residential properties and their previous owners. Through the housing files, she went through each of the addresses one by one, wrote down the names and the contact information.
Then she followed up with each person whose house had been broken into. Checking how long they’d lived there, if they knew either Marsha or Macklin or any of the other three women who had had their houses
broken into. Each time she came up blank. Each time the homeowner had lived there long enough that Alex discounted previous residents as being an issue.
Shaking her head, frustrated at the complete lack of pertinent information, she got up, poured herself another cup of coffee.
After finishing up at the restaurant, she drove to her office. She had the autopsy back on Marsha, but then she’d already talked to the coroner. Nothing new there. The tox screen was also negative. She sent Macklin a quick text, saying she’d contacted Bill, and he had confirmed everything Macklin had said. She left it at that, short and sweet.
The response was almost instant. “So am I off the hook? Does that mean we can do lunch?”
She shook her head. But knowing she was grinning like a silly fool, she quickly replied, against her better judgment, but unable to ignore the need to see him. “Sure. But you’re not off the hook yet.”
“I’ll pick you up at noon.”
“No. I’ve got interviews. Pick someplace close to my office.” She didn’t know why she was being contrary, but she didn’t want to be gone too long, out of the loop, in case anything blew up here. Not that anything was likely to blow up anywhere. She had a meeting shortly with the rest of the team.
She walked in to see she was already late. She wasn’t running the meeting, so she grabbed a chair at the back and sat down. All the murder evidence on Marsha had been discussed, and Alex added the last bit of information she’d gleamed that morning.
Lance asked, “So we’re now thinking this could have been a woman?”
“It could have been a woman, but we’re not sure either way, and we can’t confirm that the same woman did the B&Es. The killing was extremely vicious. But it wasn’t a crime of passion. It was well laid out.”
“But that blow to the head opened up the field to it being a female killer?”
Alex nodded. “That’s exactly true. We have to keep all options open. What we don’t have is any idea why those photographs were underneath the drawer in Kathleen’s bedroom. Bill said he did leave a dresser behind. His buddy was supposed to drop it off for charity somewhere but forgot. Bill assumed the housing complex managers removed it.
