Written in Blood (Otter Creek Book 3)

by Rebecca Deel

  “Are you crazy?” Her stomach turned a flip. He couldn’t be right. “We’re not even dating.”

  Josh placed the mug of steaming chocolate in front of her. “You’re in the early stages, snoopy.”

  Meg frowned at his childhood nickname for her. “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s all over your face. Serena has the same expression when she looks at Ethan. Madison has it when she looks at Nick. You’ve been bitten by the love bug.”

  She sipped the hot liquid. “I think you’re imagining things, but say you were right. Why does that spell your doom?”

  Josh sighed. “The Cahill offspring are falling like dominoes. I’m the next in line and the only one left. Mom’s already hinting about Madison’s business partner, Del. I think she’s picking out names for grandchildren.”

  Meg laughed at his horrified expression. Some good woman deserved her awesome brother. And now that she thought about it, Del did blush a lot when Josh was around. Maybe she’d call Madison later. Compare notes.

  She finished her mug of cocoa, hugged her brother and traipsed to her room. Meg readied herself for bed, thought more about her brother’s statements and chuckled. No way. Rod Kelter was a great guy when he wasn’t getting in her way as an editor, but she couldn’t be in love with him. It was too soon. They hadn’t had a real date yet. And the man had baggage, the kind Meg doubted he had unloaded.

  Rod replaced the picture of his wife and daughter on his bedside table and grabbed the phone handset. “Kelter.”

  “It’s Ethan. Sheriff Benson just called.”

  “Hang on.” He yanked open the table drawer and pulled out a pen and pad. “Okay. Go.”

  “Mrs. King died sometime Tuesday night, probably around midnight. No sign of forced entry. No footprints under the windows.”

  “After Sherri’s murder, I doubt she left her doors unlocked.”

  “Not likely,” Ethan agreed.

  “So the perp had a key.” And that narrowed the list of suspects if Sherri’s mother didn’t leave a key under her mat or under a fake rock. He didn’t remember seeing either. The area around the trailer was bare.

  “That’s what the lead detective thinks.”

  “What about the husband?”

  “Can’t find him. The neighbors said he hasn’t been around in years.”

  “Anything missing?”

  “Doesn’t seem like it.”

  That ruled out robbery as a motive for the killing. “What about the bullet? Any luck with that?”

  “It’s a .38 caliber.”

  “That’s fast.”

  “Crime scene techs found it in the mattress. They’ve sent it off to the lab for comparison.”

  “The same gun?”

  “That’s my guess. Benson thinks the cases are connected.”

  “Is he going to cooperate?”

  “He says they’ll investigate things from their end and report any findings if we’ll do the same.”

  Rod laid down his pen. “Okay. I’ll be in the office early tomorrow, but probably out the rest of the day.”

  “I’ll call if something comes up.”

  The moment Meg entered the Gazette’s office the next morning, she spotted the Starbucks cup at the edge of Zoe’s desk. “Please say that’s mine.”

  Zoe laughed. “Thought you could use a strong pick-me-up after the SUV incident yesterday. How do you feel?”

  “Like a truck hit me.” She smiled. “Actually, I’m sore, but mobile. I guess I owe the detective for that.” And for dreams of hot kisses interspersed with the nightmares. Meg sipped the coffee and sighed. “Peppermint mocha. You’re an angel, Zoe.”

  “That’s what my boyfriend says too.”

  “Did you call Ruth?”

  “She wants an interview with the mayor about the water system but his office is giving her the runaround.”

  Perfect. She felt just bad enough and mean enough to corner Henry Parks today. “Tell her I’ll take care of it myself. Are you covering the Junior League’s Christmas sale?”

  “I planned on it.” She wrinkled her brow. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  “Of course. You’ll do a great job with the story. You’re the best shopper I know. Take J.J. with you. He’ll take some sharp pictures.”

  Zoe beamed. “Thanks, Boss.”

  Meg checked messages, slipped on her coat and headed for Town Hall. The wind wasn’t nearly as raw today, so she left the Jeep parked in front of the office and walked. By the time she arrived, she’d finished her coffee and the brisk air had cleared the muzzy sluggishness from her brain.

  She took the stairs to the second floor and opened the door to the mayor’s outer office. Velda West eyed her over half-glasses.

  “Can I help you, Ms. Cahill?”

  “I need five minutes of the mayor’s time.”

  “He’s buried in paperwork. He won’t be available until late this afternoon.” She gave a cold smile. “I’ll be sure to let him know you stopped by to see him.”

  “This is important, Velda.”

  “Everybody says that, Ms. Cahill. Would you like to make an appointment for tomorrow?”

  “Isn’t the mayor up for re-election next fall?”

  Wariness grew in the older woman’s eyes. “Yes. Why?”

  “I’m sure the mayor wants to keep his name in front of his constituents. Might be better for his reputation if his name is associated with the good things he’s doing for Otter Creek. Dad admires his ideals and commitment to the town. Surely Mayor Parks can spare a few minutes to talk about the new water system.”

  Velda glanced at the mayor’s closed door, then Meg. “I’ll check, but I can’t guarantee anything. He’s a very busy man.”

  But apparently never too busy to solicit votes. Velda stepped out of the mayor’s office and motioned her inside.

  Buried in paperwork? Meg wanted to laugh. Parks had three pieces of paper on his desk. She had three piles of papers on hers. “Thanks for taking a minute for me, Mayor Parks.”

  “Always glad to talk to you, my dear. How’s your father enjoying his vacation?”

  Meg grinned. She knew her father’s name would get her in the door. Parks always jockeyed to keep in her father’s good graces. After all, Dad was the president of the only bank in town and, as such, had a lot of pull in town business. “He says Mom loves Hawaii. He’s not too keen on the sand, though.”

  Henry Parks laughed, his portly belly jiggling. “I’ll have to take the wife and kids there. I bet they’d love it.”

  And Meg figured that by the end of the day, the mayor would have a vacation planned to Hawaii for himself and his family. Something inside drove him to match or best the leaders in their town.

  “Now, what story are you here researching, my dear?”

  She pulled her notepad and pen from her bag. “The new water system. What can you tell me about it?”

  “Well, as you know, Otter Creek’s water pipes were laid back in the 1920s when we had 300 residents. Over the years, we’ve grown so much that the small pipes popular back then can’t keep up with the demand for water. The system is strained and we’re having more and more pipes burst because of the pipes degrading with age and the constant pressure of adding new customers to the system decreases the water pressure.”

  Meg paused in her writing. “So what are you recommending to help with the problem?”

  “I’m asking the town council to approve a proposal for a new water system. The contracted company would replace the old pipes with larger, stronger ones. The work would be completed in phases, so not everyone would be inconvenienced at the same time.” He smiled. “We’re hoping the good citizens of Otter Creek will open their homes to neighbors and friends across town for a day or two as the need arises.”

  “How many companies are bidding for the project?”

  “Right now, one.”

  “One? Is the council going to solicit other bids?”

  Color climbed into the mayor’s che
eks. “We’ve asked a few other companies to submit a bid. So far, none of them have responded.”

  Meg sat back in her chair. “When are you voting on whether or not to approve the bid?”

  “The next council meeting.”

  That was Tuesday. “How much was the bid?”

  When he named the multi-million dollar figure, her jaw dropped. “Isn’t that kind of high? How can they charge that much for so little work? It isn’t a complicated project. They dig up old pipes and replace them with new ones.”

  Parks frowned. “The man-hours alone should put the price tag well over their quoted price. They have an excellent reputation in the business world.”

  “Which company is it?”

  “De Marco Water Works.”

  “When’s the projected starting and ending date?”

  The mayor relaxed again, no longer uneasy. “If the contract is approved Tuesday, they will begin work immediately. They want to be finished by the end of the summer.”

  A tap on the door interrupted them. Velda said, “Mayor, you have a meeting in ten minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  Meg stood. “I appreciate your time, Mayor Parks. I won’t keep you, but I do have one more question. Who recommended De Marco Water Works to the council?”

  “Senator Drake. Good to see you again, Megan.”

  She waved and exited the office. What connection did Senator Drake have with De Marco Water Works? Coming down the stairs, Meg noticed a commotion near the lobby doors. After a moment, the sea of people parted and allowed Senator Warren Drake to enter the building.

  Meg smiled as she watched him work the crowd like a pro, shaking hands, slapping backs, something to say with a smile to each person he greeted. She hurried down the last stairs as he reached the elevator doors. “Senator Drake. Can I speak with you a moment, please?”

  He swiveled and extended his hand, a broad smile on his face. “Megan, what a pleasure. I haven’t seen you in ages, my dear. You’ve grown into a beautiful woman.”

  Man, Drake was in full politician mode. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I only have a minute. How can I help you?”

  “I’m working on an editorial about the proposed new water system in Otter Creek. I understand from Mayor Parks that you recommended De Marco Water Works. How did you hear about the company?”

  His smile morphed into a straight line. “You’ll have to talk to Don Brandenburg, my dear. He’s the one who recommended them to me. I’ve got to run, now. Great to see you again.” Drake brushed past her to board the elevator.

  With her next breath, she froze. The scent of pine. In an instant, she was back at the trail, hearing a gun being cocked behind her ear. Her knees weakened so that she had to lean against the wall to stay on her feet. She couldn’t pass out here. Talk about causing a scene.

  Meg waited for the lobby to clear before stumbling outside. She looked over at the police parking lot. Rod’s SUV was gone. Frustrated, she found an unoccupied bench out of the pedestrian traffic flow and dug out her cell phone. She punched in his number.

  “Kelter.”

  “It’s Meg.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She smiled a little. The guy was good. First he’d learned to read her face, now her voice. “I ran into Senator Drake a few minutes ago.”

  “What? You weren’t supposed to go near the Drakes without letting me know.”

  “Stuff the macho cop routine, Rod. It wasn’t intentional. He was entering Town Hall as I was leaving. You remember me mentioning the pine smell that night on the trail?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Drake’s cologne is that same scent.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Where are you now?” Rod slid from his SUV and glanced around the driveway of the Drake mansion.

  “Outside Town Hall.”

  “Are you returning to your office?”

  “No, Flint’s.”

  The department store? “Why Flint’s?”

  “The scent will drive me crazy until I identify it. I’m going to the men’s counter and find that cologne.”

  “Stay in populated places, Meg. Call me when you’re finished.”

  Rod pocketed his cell and rang the doorbell. He didn’t like Meg driving around in the open, but short of tossing her in jail he couldn’t do anything about it.

  The maid led him to the dining room where Kyle waited for him.

  “Rod, come sit with me.” Kyle shook his hand. “I asked Charlene to bring us coffee and pastries. I hope you don’t mind, but I had an early meeting and I’m starved.”

  “Coffee sounds good.”

  “Great.” He motioned to Charlene to pour two cups and invited Rod to sit. After the cook left, Kyle said, “I heard about Sherri’s mother on the news this morning. Is that why you’re here?”

  “Partly.”

  “What happened to her? Was it a botched robbery?”

  “It’s county jurisdiction. Sheriff Benson is in charge of the investigation.”

  “But didn’t you discover Mrs. King’s body?”

  Rod sipped his coffee. He had no intention of discussing an on-going case with Kyle Drake. “Was Sherri close to her mother?”

  A flash of irritation showed in Kyle’s eyes for a second and disappeared. “I haven’t been around much recently, but they were in the habit of calling each other three or four times a day. Sherri felt responsible for taking care of her since her father left.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “About the time we graduated from college. Maybe that fall. I went to work for Dad after I toured Europe during the summer and I remember Ty calling to tell us when I was settling in D.C.”

  Thirteen years and Gerald King hadn’t tried to get in touch with his family? “He never contacted them again?”

  “Not that I ever heard. One of his friends claimed to have seen him on the streets in Knoxville a couple of years after he left, but Ty couldn’t find him.”

  “Any idea why he left?”

  His mouth full of lemon pastry, Kyle shook his head.

  Rod made a note to ask Ty about his father-in-law. It was possible King came back, but would he still have a house key after all these years? Wouldn’t Mrs. King have changed the locks since then?

  “Do you know who had a key to Mrs. King’s house?”

  “Sherri did. She was always running over there, taking food or craft supplies to her mother.” He dropped his gaze to his coffee cup and studied the steaming liquid. “Look, I don’t like talking behind Ty’s back, but you’ll find out any way.”

  “Find out what?”

  “Ty also has a key to the King place.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I heard him talking to Sherri once about going over to her mother’s to fix something. When Sherri offered her key, Ty told her he had one of his own.” Kyle paused. “You know, Mrs. King lived out on a rural road. Not much traffic through there. Maybe a vagrant wandered into her home.”

  “Maybe.” But Rod didn’t think so. Most of the vagrants he’d run across didn’t have a gun. And if it had been a homeless person, why not take things like food or money? Mrs. King’s purse had $120 in the wallet.

  “Listen, Rod, I was sorry to hear about the loss of your wife and daughter. I found out months after it happened and I didn’t see you when Dad and I were in town for a few days after that.”

  Rod closed his notebook. Though the sadness resurfaced, it didn’t seem as severe or maybe he’d grown used to the pain. Maybe a certain blonde-haired editor had something to do with it. “Thanks.”

  “You’re young.” Kyle grinned at Rod. “And decent to look at. Anybody new in your life?”

  The question caught him by surprise. Meg’s face appeared in his mind. Rod stood and tucked the notebook and pen into his pocket. “Don’t have much time for that right now.”

  “Is there anyone on your radar?”

  “Why the twenty questions about my social life?”

>   Kyle chuckled. “Didn’t want to poach on your territory. That’s all.”

  “You don’t stick around long. Why should I worry?” Rod leaned his hip against the dining table. “Got anybody in mind?”

  “Megan Cahill.”

  Rod straightened, fighting to keep his expression neutral. “That wouldn’t be a good idea right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s a material witness in a case in which you are a suspect.”

  “What?” Kyle jumped to his feet. “Are you crazy? We’re friends, man. From grade school. You know I wouldn’t kill anybody. You can trust me.”

  “I trust no one in an investigation. Everybody is a suspect, including you.” Rod strode to the door, Kyle trailing behind, still protesting his innocence. On the porch, he turned to Kyle. “Leave Megan alone, Kyle. She’s not your typical flavor of the week.”

  A speculative look rose in Kyle’s eyes. “You are interested in her.”

  Rod frowned. “Just stay away from her.”

  Meg crinkled her nose and shook her head. Yuck! “No. That has too much citrus.”

  The counter girl frowned and handed Meg a cup filled with ground coffee beans. “Sniff this and we’ll try a few more.”

  Meg’s eyebrows rose. “I like the smell of coffee, but why do you want me to sniff it?”

  “It sort of cleanses the smelling senses. After sniffing several perfumes or colognes, haven’t you noticed the scents all smell alike?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The ground coffee will keep that from happening.”

  “Can I quote you on that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Meg grinned. “After this experience, I might write an editorial on the finer points of selecting cologne and perfume for a loved one.”

  “Are you trying to find a scent for your boyfriend?”

  She shook her head as a picture of Rod formed in her mind. No way would she get him pine-scented cologne, not after the trail incident. Now maybe if she found something a little musky, Meg might indulge herself. After all, he’d gone out of his way to be kind to her. When he wasn’t acting the macho cop and annoying her.

  The counter girl brought another four colognes for Meg to sniff. “These are the last of the woodsy scents.”