Prime Crime Holiday Bundle

by Cleo Coyle; Emily Brightwell; Kenneth Blanchard

  She stopped next to a tree surrounded by a thicket of bushes. I pulled Dinah into the cover of a twiggy bush as someone stepped from inside the leafy tent.

  “Bradley,” I gasped. I spent some time just staring. After all the uncertainty if he was dead or alive, finally I was seeing him with my own eyes. He wore jeans and a leather jacket. His face looked florid, as if he’d been spending a lot of time outside. Emily rushed toward him and threw her arms around him.

  Quickly my wonder at seeing a living, breathing Bradley turned to anger. Thanks to him the bookstore and my future were in jeopardy. People like that woman on the news had lost their life savings. All the nice stuff he’d done, like coach the girls’ soccer team, had just been a way for him to get clients. He was a bad man and he shouldn’t be able to walk away from what he’d done.

  I still had the BlackBerry in my hand. But who to call? It was too convoluted a story to try to tell to a 911 dispatcher. Better to call Barry. I clicked on his number, but nothing happened. True we were only a few minutes from civilization, but there was no cell signal.

  Dinah saw me fiddling with the phone and I showed her the screen. “We have to do something,” she whispered.

  “I have an idea,” I said, holding up the BlackBerry. “I’ll take some pictures of him. At least we’ll have proof we saw him and I can send them to Barry.”

  I quickly took a number of photos before we slipped down the path and retraced our steps, checking my phone every few moments to see if I’d gotten service.

  We were practically back to Dinah’s car before I got a signal. As soon as I talked to Barry and sent the photos, despite his telling us to stay put, we rushed back toward where we’d seen Bradley.

  “What are we going to do when we get there?” Dinah asked as we made our way back. “We can’t make him stay there until the cops show up.”

  It turned out not to be a problem.

  CHAPTER 20

  WHEN WE GOT BACK TO OUR VANTAGE POINT, WE looked over at the bushes and tree and the surrounding tall grassy area. There was no Bradley and no Emily. The only activity was a hawk flying overhead.

  “Where’d they go?” I said, looking around. It was more of a rhetorical question or at least that’s how Dinah took it and didn’t answer. Brushing past sparse sage plants, we kept moving closer until we ended up at the tree where they’d been standing. The pungent-smelling bushes that hugged the California oak formed an enclosure with an opening at the front.

  Dinah peeked in and pointed at the ground. “Look at this.” I looked over her shoulder. It was hard to see because of the darkness, but there was a pile of dirt and a hole in the ground.

  “I wonder if there’s anything in it?” I said. I was hopeful Dinah would pick up on the question and offer to stick her hand in. She didn’t and I really wished I had the Pinchy-Winchy with me. The toy claw hand would have been perfect to stick down the hole. Finally curiosity overcame my concern over crawly and slithery things that might be in there and I knelt down and put my hand in. I’d reached all the way to my elbow before I hit the bottom. The dirt was cold and damp and empty. I sat back on my heels and examined the nearby area. The afternoon was fading and it seemed like the sun had come out just in time to go down. I noticed something dark in the tall grass. When I touched it, it felt slippery.

  “It’s a plastic garbage bag,” Dinah said, bending next to me. We opened it with a fair amount of trepidation. Instead of reaching in, we decided to dump out the contents. We stood and I held the bottom at arm’s length and shook. A couple of hundred-dollar bills fluttered out along with what looked like a small booklet. I gathered them off the ground where they’d fallen.

  “It’s a passport,” I said, opening the booklet. The photo was Bradley, but the name was listed as Allen Richman. “I wonder what that’s about.” We stuck the money in the passport and kept examining the ground. Around the side of the tree we found a motorcycle helmet and a backpack. I opened the backpack and looked inside. A map of northern Mexico fell out. Below there just seemed to be some clothes and a bottle of water and some energy bars.

  “I wonder why they left this stuff,” Dinah said.

  “And I wonder why we didn’t pass them on Dirt Mulholland.” I stood up and surveyed the area. The narrow path we’d been on continued up a hill. Dinah and I followed it up to the top, which was flat and mostly rocks with some short grass. From there we could see that the path continued on down into a valley and roughly paralleled Dirt Mulholland. “I think that explains why we didn’t see them,” I said. The path was an alternative to the unpaved road and joined Mulholland in the vicinity of the short road we’d taken up from the street.

  “Maybe we weren’t as stealthy as we thought and they saw us,” Dinah said. The hilltop gave a good view of the whole area. We could see the Dirt Mulholland as it passed the concrete pad, which from here seemed postage stamp- size, and continued on to the road that ran down to the street. Turning the other way, the water tank seemed far away and small, too. From here we got a different view of the area around the oak tree. As I looked down on it, my breath caught. There was something partially hidden by the wild growth.

  I rushed down the narrow path so quickly I lost my footing and slid. Dinah came behind me and helped me get up. We pushed through the bushes and tall grass until we found what I’d seen. Bradley Perkins was sprawled on the ground. His pale blue tee shirt was spattered with blood and his eyes were wide open as if he’d been caught in surprise.

  For a moment, I froze at the shock of the discovery. Then autopilot kicked in and I reached to touch his neck and check for a pulse. He was still warm.

  I knelt down to get closer, but I didn’t feel any sign of life. Dinah got down next to me as the reality began to sink in. I wanted to look away, but I felt compelled to do something. I had seen the new method of CPR on television. The directions were simple and there was no need to do mouth-to-mouth. I put my palms together and began to do the pumping motion on his breast bone. I tried for several minutes, but nothing was changing, and Dinah touched my arm.

  “He’s gone,” she said.

  I pulled away and looked at my hands. There was blood all over them, and I thought I was going to throw up. I started to frantically wipe my hands on my clothes.

  “Whoever did this had to be very angry and able to get close to him,” I said, noting the slashes in the shirt. I wasn’t an expert, but they looked like they’d been made by a knife.

  “Is there any doubt who did it?” Dinah said. “Emily was with him when we left and he was alive. We come back a little while later and he’s dead.” I couldn’t deny her point.

  Looking down his body, I saw a leather sheath hanging off his belt. The size and shape made it seem right for some kind of big knife. It was empty. Something about the sheath stirred a memory and I stared at it for a moment, but only a moment. The sound of a motor broke the quiet and I looked up as a helicopter approached. Within seconds it was overhead, circling low above us and I recognized the police markings. A voice over a loud speaker ordered us to step away from the body and put our hands on our heads.

  Dinah and I looked at each other. “This doesn’t look good for us, does it?” she said as we followed their orders.

  I saw a cloud of dust when I looked back toward Dirt Mulholland. Traffic wasn’t allowed on this section, but that didn’t count cops. The tip of the black Crown Victoria showed as it stopped on the paved road near the water tank. A moment later, Barry came up the path, pushing through the twigs and foliage.

  Barry must have walked into scenes like this countless times and kept his cool, but when he looked at me, he lost it.

  “What happened? What did you do, try to stop him?” he said. He didn’t wait for an answer. He went to check Bradley for a pulse. “Tell me you didn’t do this,” he said.

  Dinah stepped in front of me. “What kind of question is that? Are you out of your mind?” I calmed her down and said I could speak for myself.

  “What kind of
question is that? Are you out of your mind?” I said. “We came back here to keep an eye on him and this is what we found.” Barry pointed at my hands and arms, which even with the wiping were still bloodstained. I explained the CPR.

  Barry kept shaking his head.

  Apparently the cops in the helicopter had called for the paramedics and backup. All of them stirred up the dirt road and pulled near the Crown Vic. Barry pulled us back as the paramedics checked over Bradley and a couple of uniforms took out yellow tape and started to wind it around a big perimeter. I looked back to where Bradley was sprawled and tried to make a mental note of as much as possible. One of the uniforms gave me an odd look. I recognized Officer James. He rocked his head from side to side. “What’s with you and crime scenes?”

  He’d been the one to find me standing over a body once before. “Don’t say it,” I said, cringing, but he did anyway.

  “It’s like you’re some kind of crime-scene groupie.” If Barry heard, he ignored it.

  “I guess you know I won’t be getting this case,” Barry said. I nodded in understanding. He couldn’t investigate anything where he knew someone who was involved.

  He held on to both Dinah’s and my arm. Partly it was for support since we were both rubber kneed and partly it was to move us away from the area. He led us back to the short expanse of paved road where all the cops had parked. “Okay, you two, stay put.” He separated us and told us to wait to be questioned as if I didn’t know the drill.

  The police helicopter kept circling and was soon joined by news helicopters that stationed themselves in hover mode.

  It was almost twilight now. I heard a uniform say something about sifting through the area looking for the murder weapon. Sift through the area? I glanced around. We were in the mountains with a cliff that led to green mounds of scrub oaks as far as the eye could see. I hoped they had a lifetime.

  I had my fingers crossed on who would be doing the questioning, or more who I hoped wouldn’t be doing it. It turned out to be a waste of twisted fingers. Detective Heather Gilmore got out of another Crown Vic and went to talk to one of the officers.

  I called her Detective Heather in my head or when I was talking to Dinah about her. If there was a Barbie the homicide detective, she’d look like Detective Heather. We had a bit of a history. She’d questioned me a few times before when I had gotten in the middle of murders. The rest of our history had to do with Barry. She had wanted him and was annoyed that I had him. During the time Barry and I were broken up, they’d gone out enough times for him to figure that even with her hot body and hot looks, she wasn’t for him. Did I mention she was really smart, too? She seemed to have come to terms with the fact that there was going to be nothing between them.

  “Not you again,” Detective Heather said, walking toward me. Her curve-hugging dark blue suit and heels seemed at odds with the surroundings. Barry had been hanging around, but when she arrived, he had left.

  Detective Heather asked for my information as if she’d never heard it all before. It was only when she got to my age that she volunteered anything. “You’re fifty, right?” she said, pen poised.

  “No,” I said, “not until next year.” I knew it was her chance to make me feel old next to her late thirties. I thought she’d gotten over Barry, but maybe not.

  “So, tell me what happened,” she said, flipping her notebook to a new page. I glanced over to where her partner was talking to Dinah, who seemed very agitated and was pointing at her watch. The sky was translucent blue now and there was just a trace of lavender and pink near the horizon. In the distance coyotes were howling, announcing their dinnertime. It had been chilly to start with, but now was downright cold. I was glad for my sweatshirt hoodie, but could have done with a down vest over it. Some cops went by carrying big lights to set up around the crime scene.

  I gave her all the basic information about who Bradley was. She looked at my arms and pants. “Thanks, but let’s hear how you ended up with blood all over you.”

  I mentioned how it had seemed like Bradley was dead, then it seemed like he was alive, then dead again. “I was back to thinking he was alive and I thought his wife was meeting him.”

  “What made you think his wife was going to meet him?”

  I was dreading this part, but I plowed ahead anyway and told her about the afghan. I even offered to show her the photos I’d taken of Bradley holding the afghan. Unfortunately I clicked the wrong thing and a photo of Holstein appeared. Detective Heather didn’t seem amused.

  In the midst of it I stopped as I remembered the passport and the cash. Without thinking, I’d stuck it in the back pocket of my khakis. I pulled it out and handed it to her. To say the look she gave me was hopeless was an understatement. “Tampering with evidence,” she said as she made a note.

  I didn’t wait for her to ask but offered to be fingerprinted and give up a sample of my hair so they could eliminate them.

  Detective Heather wanted to know about Emily, but she made sure to tell me I was still a person of interest. It didn’t matter that I pointed out I had no motive.

  Down the way, Dinah finished with her questioner and, seeming agitated, took off. A uniform came over and said my friend apologized for leaving, but she had to pick up some kids.

  “If the wife left, why didn’t you pass her on the road?” Detective Heather said.

  I pointed out the other path. “You should check to see if her SUV is still parked on the street.” I described the location and the stickers on the back window. Detective Heather seemed less than pleased with me telling her what to do. She paused for a beat, then like it was her idea, took out her cell phone and punched in a number. Lucky her, she got a signal. She turned to me. “What kind of car is it? You don’t happen to know the license number?” I told her what I knew and she relayed the information.

  “Well?” I said when she hung up.

  “No black Element is parked on the street.” She began to ask me more questions about Emily. No matter what she’d said about me being a person of interest, it was obvious she’d now decided Emily was the guy.

  The lab people arrived and started processing the crime scene. I gave my samples and I was free to leave. There was only one problem. Dinah was my ride. Detective Heather was heading for her car. I had a pretty good idea where she was headed. I swallowed my pride and asked for a lift.

  She hesitated, but finally agreed and I followed her to the car. She let me out in front of my house before she pulled in front of the Perkins’ house. Ryder was walking down the street but stopped when he saw me. The look on his face, and the way he picked up his camera when he saw me, made me look down. It was the first time I noticed the front of my white shirt was splattered with blood. Ryder saw me checking out my shirt and gestured toward my pants. Blood was smeared around the pockets and the front had dirt and grass stains. He nodded toward my hair and I put my hands up to feel it. I could tell it was messy and clumped together. He made a face and I figured there was blood in my hair, too. I must look like an escapee from a horror movie. Now I understood Barry’s reaction.

  Ryder didn’t let up until I’d given him all the details. We stood at the end of my driveway and watched as Detective Heather walked up to the Perkins’ front door. I could only see body language as Emily stepped outside. The news about Bradley wasn’t something you said on the front porch, but Emily didn’t seem to want to invite her in.

  As I was watching the scene, something surfaced in my mind. When Dinah and I had looked at all of Bradley’s things, there was something we hadn’t seen. Where was the afghan?

  CHAPTER 21

  “SO, YOU FINALLY SHOWED UP.” ADELE CAUGHT me at the door when I finally got to the bookstore. I’d taken a long hot shower and scrubbed away any traces of blood, but I couldn’t scrub away the image of leaning over Bradley Perkins. Barry had said the first dead body you encountered was the worst, implying it got easier as you went along. I hadn’t planned on ever seeing another body after my first one, but that
wasn’t how it worked out. I could speak from experience: It didn’t get easier, and if I saw a hundred, I’d never get immune. I’d taken my clothes, even the things that had no sign of blood, and put them all in a trash bag. I was glad for the cheerful atmosphere of Shedd & Royal and the sense of normalcy.

  Adele trailed along behind me, reminding me again how late I was and how she’d had to stay and cover for me even though she had plans. As self-absorbed as she was, she noticed I seemed a little off.

  “Pink, what’s up?” I muttered something about needing to talk to Mrs. Shedd. I felt obligated to tell her what happened. Adele pointed toward the table we’d set up for gift wrap. Mrs. Shedd was talking to some customers while she tore off a sheet of decorated paper. I had to give her credit for keeping her spirits up, despite her loss, and joining us down in the trenches for the holidays. She cashiered, helped customers find books and now was even wrapping them.

  I waited until she handed the gift item back to the customer and they’d walked away before approaching her. Adele was still trailing me. “I need to talk to you,” I said.

  “It’s okay, you can go now,” Mrs. Shedd said to Adele. “I know you have plans.”

  Adele leaned against the best-seller table in a leisurely manner. “It doesn’t matter now. My boyfriend called and said he can’t make dinner.” Inside I was groaning. So her comment must have been to hassle me. What else was new?

  I told Mrs. Shedd maybe we ought to go in the office. It didn’t seem like a good idea to tell her about my afternoon where anyone might hear. Adele tagged along as we went to the room in the back. “It has to do with your sleuthing stuff, doesn’t it?” Adele said. She fingered one of the yarn candy canes hanging on her necklace. “Since I almost went along, I ought to hear what happened, too.”