Killer Romances

by Dana Delamar, Talullah Grace, Sandy Loyd, Kristine Mason, Dale Mayer, Nina Pierce Chantel Rhondeau, K. T. Roberts, H. D. Thomson, Susan Vaughan

  “Then you’d better get her gown just in case there’s something on it,” Linda nodded in the direction of the gurney.

  “Good idea.” Bradshaw turned and noticed an orderly tearing the bed apart and shoving everything into a bin. He ran over to him and flashed his badge. “Wait, I need that gown.”

  He watched the orderly rummage through the bin and realized the gown had already come into contact with the other dirty laundry. He sighed and blinked his eyes shut. “Never mind. It’s already contaminated.”

  “I’m sorry sir, I’m just doing my job.”

  “I know, son.” Bradshaw turned to notice Karen heading toward him at a slow pace, her palms raised and a confused expression on her face.

  “Oh God, this whole thing is just too bizarre.” Her body shook.

  “Let’s go to security, Detective,” Linda repeated.

  “I need to call my precinct first.”

  Bradshaw shuffled to a chair in the lounge to call Gerard. He could almost feel his blood pressure rising. The salty fries he’d had earlier made him thirsty. He pulled a cup from the dispenser and filled it with water, took a long swig, then sat down and dialed Gerard’s number. Relief washed through him when he heard Gerard’s voice mail. He left a message thankful it gave him time to regroup before speaking to the Detective.

  “Have the Stuarts arrived from this morning’s crime scene?” Jessie asked stopping in front of the desk sergeant.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “The woman is in Interview Room three. The man is behind door number two.”

  Zach came up beside her and leaned over the high desk. “Did that beautiful woman make your day, Sarge?” he whispered.

  The balding, middle-aged sergeant nodded. “You bet, Detective.”

  Jessie shook her head at the two men. “I think you should take Mrs. Stuart, Gerard.”

  “No. I really think you should take her.”

  “Nope. You said you’re the expert when it comes to women, so here’s your chance, hotshot. Just throw some of that masculine charm on her, and she’ll be eating out of your hand.” She turned on her heels. “Toodles,” she waved her hand in the air and scooted down the hall.

  “Detectives, please don’t fight over who should take the woman. I’d be happy to take her off your hands,” the desk sergeant chimed in.

  Zach snorted. “No, Sarge, I think I can handle it.” Zach watched the sway of Jessie’s hips as she swaggered down the hall, her long red curls swinging in step with her movement. He liked watching her but forced himself back to reality to focus on the job at hand. “When do you want to notify Lenny’s daughter?” he called after her.

  “Right now.”

  “But I thought we were interviewing the Stuarts?”

  “You can get started. I’ll start my interview after I make this call.”

  His face formed into a frown. “You’re calling Lenny’s daughter instead of going to the house?”

  “No, bozo,” she sighed, “his daughter lives in Ohio. I’m calling the OPD to ask them to inform her.”

  “Oh, well see, I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s probably because . . . oh, never mind.”

  “Okay, carry on,” he said with a wink.

  “Gee, thanks, hotshot,” she saluted. “Now, do you mind if I get to work?”

  “Not at all.” He sighed and entered the interview room.

  Mrs. Stuart, a woman in her early thirties sat drumming her manicured fingernails on the surface of the table. She looked very different without the blanket wrapped around her. She was dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a short T-shirt, exposing the creamy color of her midriff. Her long dark hair was pulled back with a large barrette on the nape of her neck.

  “Mrs. Stuart, thank you for coming down to the station house.”

  “You’re welcome, detective,” she flirted. “I’m always happy to help—especially the good-looking ones.”

  He sidetracked her comment. “Now before we get started, I’m going to read you your rights, then I’m going to record our conversation.”

  She jerked her head in surprise. “Whatever for?”

  “For our mutual protection.”

  “Am I under arrest, Detective?” she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  “No ma’am. It’s for everyone’s protection. This way, you know what you said, and I know what you said. It’s all on tape.”

  “If you must.”

  “Okay, let’s get started. Tell me about your evening—everything that lead up to the moment of contact with the dead body.”

  She giggled like a teenager. “You want to know every little detail?”

  “Every.” Zach did all he could to contain himself from laughing out loud. She was pretty, but certainly not a beauty queen. He wondered if Mr. Stuart realized his wife tried to come on to other men. Grateful the interview was being recorded, and viewed by Harwell, he wasn’t the least bit worried she’d file sexual harassment charges against him when he ignored her advances.

  Jessie entered Interview Room number two, and found Mr. Stuart pacing back and forth. He was a good-looking man with a full head of white hair, and quite a bit older than his wife. He was dressed in a silk business suit.

  “Thanks for coming down, sir. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”

  “That’s good, Detective Kensington, because I have a flight to catch later this afternoon.”

  “Oh, sir, I’m not so sure you’ll be on that flight. We may need to question you again.”

  John Stuart released a loud groan. “I have to be on that flight.” His face tensed, a muscle flickered on the side of his jaw.

  “Let’s get down to business and see where we are when we finish.” She watched his body language with interest. It was no secret he was the type of man who needed to feel as though he was the one in control. She spoke softly and smiled. “Mr. Stuart, please give me a detailed account of your evening last night.”

  He grinned. “Catherine and I finished dinner about ten thirty, then headed back to our hotel room for the night. We watched a movie on cable, then Catherine and I decided to partake in a little more excitement, so we—”

  Jessie interrupted. “You can take it from the time you fell over the body. I don’t need to know why or how you decided to go to Central Park. One thing though before we go any further, the home address you gave me earlier is a local one. Is that correct?” she asked, slightly confused about why they were at a hotel. She opened the file on the table to view her notes to verify the information given. An uneasy feeling erupted in her stomach. Was she the only woman in the world who hadn’t considered a rendezvous?

  John Stuart shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, detective, can I count on your discretion?”

  “Well, that depends.” John Stuart’s blue eyes never left Jessie’s face. “Okay, let’s hear it.” His expression gave him away. “You’re having an affair, and she’s not your wife. He nodded in the affirmative. “Swell.” She shook her head. “Do either of you live here in New York?”

  “Yes, we both do.”

  “Can you give me her last name?”

  “You have the correct name for her. It’s Catherine Stuart.” He gave her a sheepish grin.

  “And, she’s spelling it the same as yours? S-t-u-a-r-t?”

  “Yes. Catherine is my sister-in-law,” he answered without an ounce of remorse. “She’s married to my brother.”

  Jessie swallowed hard and forced herself not to react. She felt sick to her stomach, and could only imagine how she would have felt if it had been a relative of hers. “Okay, then give me a run-down of the chain of events.”

  “Well, we decided to have some emotionally charged sex, and figured Central Park would be a fun place . . . and had we . . . well, you know.”

  “So, you arrived there at what time?”

  “I’d say it was about two o’clock in the morning, or maybe two-thirty.”

  “At what time did you discover the
bodies?”

  “You mean body. We never saw the other one . . . the woman who was alive . . . not until later when Catherine heard a loud painful moan shortly after the officer arrived. As for time, I’m not really sure, detective. We were so involved.” He released nervous laughter.

  “Yeah, right. Okay, so why did you leave your clothes at the hotel?”

  “I told you before. Because it was an emotional high to drive over there, to see Catherine—”

  “Naked?” She finished the sentence for him. She scratched her head. “That blanket couldn’t have been large enough to be wrapped around the both of you while you were driving?”

  “That was the whole point, Detective.” He grinned. “You’ve never done anything naughty, have you?”

  Jessie cleared her throat. “I’m the one asking the questions here, Mr. Stuart.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Stuart, I need to check with the lab,” she said, rushing out of the room before she smacked him silly. He was a smug bastard, and she loathed his type. Screw trying to make him think he was in control. Outside, she keyed in the lab’s number on her cell phone. “Do you have any results for me on that blanket? She looked through the window of the door and watched him pace back and forth. “Yeah, okay. Will you have someone call me the minute those results are in?” She returned to the room. Mr. Stuart was pacing a lot faster than before. She pointed to the chair. “Please sit, sir.”

  “Detective, you can’t honestly believe we killed those people.”

  “I never said that, sir. Anyone at a crime scene is an automatic suspect, regardless of whether you’re the witness or otherwise, until proven innocent. Now if you’ll allow me to rule you and your lady out, you can be on your way.”

  “Oh, that’s just great,” he griped. “If the media gets a hold of this, we’ll be in the newspapers.” He stood and began pacing again. “My wife is going to kill me if she finds out.” Jessie stared at him and prayed his brother would find out. It would serve him right.

  “Please sit down, Mr. Stuart. We’ll be finished in a little while.”

  “Well, what exactly are you looking for?”

  “Do you own a pistol, sir?”

  “No. Of course not,” he shot back. “I’m a civilized member of my community, and I have great respect for law enforcement.”

  Jessie chuckled to herself and wondered if “civilized” included cheating on one’s spouse. A rap on the door interrupted her thoughts. One of the technicians from the lab handed her the results. She nodded a thank you, viewed the paper, and read it aloud. “The results show semen, gun residue and the victim’s blood on the blanket.”

  Mr. Stuart released a heavy sigh of frustration.

  Detective Kensington reached down into her case and removed a light. “Please hold out your hands.”

  “You can’t be serious,” his voice filled with irritation. “I’ve seen enough CSI episodes to know what you’re thinking. This is absolutely absurd.”

  “Sir, did you shower when the officer drove you back to your hotel?”

  “Are you kidding? He barely gave us enough time to get dressed.”

  “Okay, then hold out your hands please.” She flashed the light over his hands. “Okay, they’re clean.”

  “Of course they are, Detective.”

  “Mr. Stuart,” she said, “I told you, once you’re eliminated as a suspect, you can leave and get back to your life. The more you protest, the longer you’re going to be here.”

  He twisted his mouth into a sour grin without commenting, then sat down in the chair and crossed his arms against his chest.

  “Please excuse me for a moment, Mr. Stuart. I need to confer with my partner.” She walked down the hall to Zach’s room and knocked on the door, then walked inside. “Can I see you for a moment, Gerard?”

  “Sure.” He followed her into the hallway.

  “What’s up?”

  “The blanket only shows Lenny’s blood. No residue was found on his hands. I think their alibi checks out, so we can release these scum bags.”

  “I agree. They don’t really know anything except when they landed on the body. It appears they arrived after the fact.”

  “By the way,” she snorted, “did she tell you she’s Stuart’s sister-in-law?”

  “No,” his brows rose. “You’re kidding me.”

  “No. I’m not. At first I thought you might be right about them having a brash adventure to freshen their marriage, and I even warmed up to the idea, but when he revealed the truth, I wanted to puke. How’s that for brotherly love?”

  “Pretty pathetic, if you ask me. Okay, let’s get these two out of here. She’s been coming onto me for the last half hour.”

  “I thought you enjoyed that?” Jessie quipped.

  “It depends on who it is.” He headed back inside the interview room. “Hey,” he called after her. “I’m happy to hear you warmed up to the idea.” His wink gave her a tingle.

  When Jessie returned to John Stuart, he was now sitting, his crossed leg bouncing in a perfunctory motion.

  “Okay, Mr. Stuart. We’re releasing you and Mrs. Stuart.” He stood upright. “Make sure you’re available in case we need to get in touch with you again.” she said.

  “How will you get in touch with us?” he asked.

  “We’ll call your office or the cell number you provided.”

  They exited the room together and walked toward the lobby to wait for Catherine to join him. A few minutes later, he and Catherine left the building holding hands.

  “So much for frolicking in the woods, huh, Gerard?” Jessie said.

  “Uh-huh.” He shook his head in disgust. “So how’d you make out with OPD?”

  “Good. They’ll bring the local priest when they visit the residence.” Jessie rushed past him toward her desk.

  “Boy, you’re still pissed off at the Stuarts.”

  “You bet your sweet ass I am. Neither one is fit to call themselves human beings.”

  Zach smiled, eased himself down in his desk chair and listened to his telephone messages. His hand slammed down when he heard the message from Detective Bradshaw.

  7

  Detective Gerard parked the car in the hospital parking lot and exited at the same time as Jessie. Both rushed over to Detective Bradshaw who stood and waited by the door of the ER at Lenox Hill Hospital. Bradshaw’s expression was grim.

  “What the hell happened here, Bradshaw?” Zach demanded without so much as an acknowledgement. “Where did she go? Did anyone see her leave?”

  It was obvious Bradshaw was miserable about what had happened—it was written all over his face. He sat down on the bench. “Look, I waited with her for a long time. Every available staff member was taking care of the victims from the big bus accident downtown. When all hell broke loose, the staff was running every which way. It was like a friggin’ zoo in this place. Gurneys were lined up like a brigade in the waiting rooms, the hallways, you name it.” Jessie listened without comment while he spoke. “In order to handle those victims requiring immediate attention, the patients not needing immediate attention, were rolled into the adjoining hallways of the ER. Our Jane Doe was one of them.” Bradshaw scrubbed his hand over his face. “When you called, I didn’t think Jane Doe needed to hear our conversation—she was already scared to death, so I left her side and walked down to the end of the hall. When I finished the call with you, I found the nightgown she’d worn on the bed tucked in between the sheets. I ran down the hall checking to see if she’d been taken to the labs for testing,” his hands raised in anguish, “but she hadn’t.”

  “What about the surveillance tapes?” Detective Kensington asked.

  “Nothing on the tapes.”

  “Nothing from the footage from the entrance or exits?” she asked.

  “There is no footage from the entrance or exits.”

  “Because?” Jessie inquired.

  “Because the hospital just switched over to a new system and
the installation had not been completed yet.”

  “Are you shittin’ me? Today?” Zach snapped. “They had to do that today?”

  “I’m afraid so, Gerard.”

  “And what did you see on the hall footage?” Jessie asked.

  “Nothing. The only conclusion I can draw from all of this is that whoever did this to her in the first place, must have found out she was still alive and abducted her from the hospital to finish the job.” Bradshaw sighed. “And the bastard knew exactly how to avoid the hall cameras.”

  “What did she wear out of here? The ragged dress she arrived in?” Jessie asked.

  “No.” Bradshaw responded, shaking his head. “The aide thinks she stole a set of blue scrubs.”

  “How can she be sure of that?” Zach asked.

  “Because the girl had just replenished the rack, and when she saw Jane, she later realized the one missing set of scrubs was most likely what Jane was wearing.”

  Zach’s head jerked back. “She saw Jane and didn’t stop her?”

  “No, she didn’t, Gerard. The aide told me when the chaos broke out; every available employee had been called into work to lend a hand. When she’d passed Jane in the hallway, she thought Jane must have been called in from disability—and that she’d had a nose job, which would explain why she had two black eyes.”

  “Unbelievable.” Zach’s words were laden with fury.

  “Gerard,” Jessie scolded. “Stop brow beating Detective Bradshaw.” He clamped his mouth shut. “What did the staff do with her dress?” Jessie asked. “Do you know?”

  “The bag is gone. It was on the same rack with the scrubs and bedding stuff when I arrived. Since we were in the hallway, I left it on the rack for safekeeping, figuring Jane would either be released or moved to a room after she’d been taken care of by the doctors. When the administrator, the aide and I scoured the place, I asked about the bag, but it was missing too.”