Ring Around the Rosy

by Roseanne Dowell

  “Can you describe this person?”

  “No, I didn’t really see him. It was more of a shadow. Can I go now?”

  “Just a few more things.” John smiled at her. “How’s your sister?”

  Susan flinched. She couldn’t believe he had the guts to ask. Ignoring the question, she went to her car door and opened it. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to go home.” She needed Dave. She punched in his number.

  “Susan, where are you? I’m on my way.”

  “I’m going home. Can you come over?”

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  Susan couldn’t wait to get home, couldn’t wait to be in Dave’s arms again.

  Chapter Nine

  The phone rang while Susan showered early the next morning, but she couldn’t hear the message with the water running. Not that she cared.

  No matter, she wasn’t in that big of a hurry to hear it, and now that she didn’t have a job, it didn’t make much difference. After yesterday, her nerves were raw enough. More messages from him wouldn’t help matters.

  She set the coffee maker, opened the door, and picked up the newspaper. Thankfully, no roses graced her doorstep this morning. She poured a cup of coffee and opened the paper to see the headline.

  Reporter in Nursery Rhyme Murders Sacked

  What the heck was this? Why make her the headline? What was Hill trying to prove? Worse, why would Ernie let him? She scanned down to read the rest of the story.

  Reporter Susan Weston was fired yesterday after refusing to divulge information about the phone calls from the alleged nursery rhyme killer. After talking with reporter Dan Hill and Editor, Ernie Price, Ms Weston commented “the calls were personal.”

  Is Ms Weston involved with these crimes? Does she know more than she’s admitting? Is she an accessory to murder? Police sources said Ms Weston knew all the victims,

  Ms Weston was a suspect in the first murder when lead Detective David Morgan found her bracelet at the crime scene. The fact Ms Weston’s father was involved in a shooting causes deep concern. Did it have something to do with the other murders? Are they related?

  How did Hill get that information about the bracelet? How did he know she knew the victims? Dave? Did he believe she had something to do with those crimes? And, darn it, why bring her father into it?

  It was bad enough the Riverdale Rag waited outside the hospital every day, looking for details of the shooting. How dare Hill insinuate she was involved in any of it? And what about Dave? Did he still consider her a suspect? Was he toying with her?

  No. That couldn’t be. Not Dave…but he was the only one who knew.

  This couldn’t be happening. What was her mother going to say when she read this? Oh shoot. Now she’d have to call and pacify her. Explain about the calls.

  She’d deal with her later. Not now. Besides, it was time to pick up her father from the hospital. Ignoring the blinking light on her answering machine, Susan grabbed her car keys and left.

  Why she had offered to take her father home from the hospital was beyond her. Maybe because the guilt was eating at her for not staying there like Clare and Kate had. Or, maybe because she felt sorry for her sister. Everyone knew Clare wasn’t good in a crisis, and with all the reporters laying in wait… Susan couldn’t subject her parents to that. But it wasn’t her job, either. Why couldn’t Clare just grow up already? Her sister lived in a tunnel. It would only have taken her ten minutes to get to the hospital.

  Too bad Steve wasn’t home. He usually took responsibility seriously. But he was away on one of his lengthy business trips. Susan turned off the highway and headed toward the hospital. Fortunately, there wasn’t much traffic. Driving on the highway wasn’t one of her favorite things. But it was the quickest way to get there, and the directions Dave gave her for the side roads were too complicated.

  Poor Clare. Steve’s absence seemed to affect her more than the shooting. It was as if her sister’s whole world crashed down on her. Why hadn’t Clare gotten over the shooting by now? Their father was fine, up and walking around, even.

  Susan pulled into the parking garage and hurried inside.

  After five days, you’d think the news crew would have found something more interesting to write about, but no, they still camped outside, trying to get an interview, waiting to pounce when the doctor released her father. That’s what happened in small communities. Of course, this morning’s headlines hadn’t helped.

  On the advice of a nurse, Susan took her father out through the emergency room to avoid the reporters. They’d probably be at the house, too. No way to avoid it. This was a big news story for Riverdale. After all, her father was one of their own. Not to mention her parents were well-known in the community. They participated in many activities, as well as school functions. Since the shooting happened in Riverdale, her newspaper reported it, but it only appeared on page two. Fortunately, the Gazette moved on to bigger and better things to report, like the story about her on the front page.

  * * *

  Susan stayed with her parents for most of the day. Life wasn’t going to be easy for her father for a while. He still had trouble walking and limited use of his left hand. Her mother had trouble helping him. Clare was upset with Steve for being gone so much, and, as usual, wasn’t much help. Something was brewing between them. Maybe Steve knew about Clare’s indiscretion. Steve seemed to be absent more and more lately.

  Susan realized that the sense of humor she had been jealous of was Clare’s way of covering up her inadequacies. Thinking of Clare as inadequate almost made Susan laugh. Certainly not a word she’d ever use to describe Clare before. Nope, she used to envy her sister’s life. She sometimes even wished it was a life she could settle for, but the desire for a career took priority.

  Chapter Ten

  Susan arrived home tired and emotionally drained. What a day. Clare was about to drive her crazy. The woman needed tranquilizers or something. Talk about emotional highs and lows. How in the world did her sister manage to work, let alone raise kids?

  In a hurry to get to her apartment, Susan took the steps two at a time, rounded the corner, and stopped dead. Two roses sat in front of her door. Before picking up the wilted flowers, she looked around. Of course there was no indication where the roses came from. Inside her apartment, she threw them onto the counter, and pressed the play button on her answering machine.

  “Susan,” the sinister voice said. “I took care of everything.” Click.

  What the heck did that mean? At least he didn’t say anything about killing someone else. Ernie’s voice came on next.

  “Susan, sorry about that story this morning. There’ll be a retraction tomorrow.” Ernie paused.

  She just bet there would, probably on page 22 where no one would see it.

  “By the way,” Ernie said. “You’re not fired. Call me.”

  She picked up the phone, punched in Ernie’s number, and waited.

  “Susan.” Ernie’s voice held a hint of contrition. “You will come back to work, won’t you?”

  “That depends.”

  Ernie laughed. “You always were a hard nut to crack. Okay, you’re back on the assignment after Hill prints his retraction and apology tomorrow.”

  “Front page headline?”

  “Front page headline,” Ernie said.

  Susan sighed. She had to ask. “So why the sudden change of heart?”

  “You aren’t going to believe this,” Ernie said.

  “Try me.”

  “The informant called and insisted on a complete retraction. Said you had nothing to do with any of the crimes — you were his connection. Said if we wanted any more warnings, we had to put you back on the story. And your detective friend called and threatened a lawsuit, which had the most influence.”

  Dave called. He did believe in her. “Okay, I’ll come back to work. And I want a personal apology from Hill”

  “Good. And Susan, don’t forget about the Harvest Festival interview tomorrow.” />
  Susan hung up and shook her head, turned on her laptop, and keyed in the Strongsville Harvest Festival, She took some notes for another boring story and composed some questions to ask Herb Miller, the Historical Society’s chairperson. Thank goodness Gloria was scheduled to take the photos.

  Susan liked Strongsville, a unique little town that had grown in leaps and bounds as more and more people left the city for suburban life. After printing out the questions, she closed her computer. Only 9:30, but after such an exhausting day, she decided to turn in. As her mother used to say, “Morning came early.” Besides the interview was scheduled for nine.

  Given that it took her a good hour to motivate herself, down some coffee, and feel human, she’d have to get up by at least seven to have time to shower and get ready. Mornings were not her best time. Just once she’d like to be on time.

  Sitting on her bed with Bella curled in her lap, Susan looked around her large bedroom and remembered the fun she, Clare, and Kate had designing the space. Even at night, the room had the brightness of sunshine with the beaming yellow walls. Kate had insisted on the orange-and-yellow, floral quilt for the bed after Susan picked out the brown and orange plaid fabric for the upholstered chair that sat in the corner. Of course, Kate would pick out floral. One of these days, she’d get Kate to make her a quilt.

  The cherry dressers, from her grandmother, mixed well with the lime-green rug that Kate found on sale. Susan was glad the cream-colored shades didn’t distract as she had feared. Kate suggested attaching a fabric of green and yellow stripes to change their effect. Susan liked the idea, and one of these days she’d do it. She turned off the light and stretched out on the king-size bed. The room’s warm, inviting feeling of security helped lull her to sleep. It had a calming effect on her.

  The alarm startled Susan out of a dream-filled state. She reached across the bed to turn it off. A smile crossed her lips as the memory of her dream came alive.

  Dave had pledged his undying love and on bended knee offered the most romantic marriage proposal. Giggling, she got out of bed and prepared for the day. Marriage had never entered her mind before, except to dismiss it when her mother brought it up. But the dream brought new thoughts of marriage to her mind. What would it be like to be married to Dave?

  “Marriage.” She laughed. “What subconscious thought caused that dream?” Shaking thoughts of marriage from her mind, she filled the coffeepot. Just as she was ready to jump into the shower, the phone rang. She froze. At this hour of the morning, it could only be one person. Friends and family knew she wasn’t a morning person. She waited while the machine answered it.

  “Did you miss me?” the voice asked. “I know you’re there, monitoring your calls.” The voice continued. “I told you I fixed it. Got your job back. Nice retraction in this morning’s paper. Did you read it?”

  Her hands trembled. Darn it, he was still watching her. Stupid, at this hour of the morning of course she’d be home.

  “I’ve been busy, and your detective was getting too smart for his own good, with his comments about me slipping up. I know you wrote that story even though your name wasn’t on it. I recognized your style. Why did they give the credit to Dan Hill? That wasn’t fair to you”

  Her body trembled. Goose bumps erupted on her skin, prickling the hair on her arms. Her fear increased at the mention of Dave. He knew they were spending time together.

  “Was I supposed to call Hill instead? Tell them I don’t much like Dan Hill.” He paused, and Susan waited for the click of the hang up, but he went on after a few seconds.

  “I’m still around, making my choices carefully. The next one is going to be a surprise.” Then the familiar click, and the phone line went dead.

  She punched in Dave’s number. Terror and dread replaced her lighthearted mood from her dream. He answered on the first ring. “Dave.” She tried to keep the fear out of her voice. “He called again. Oh God, will this ever end?” The calmness of the last week whisked away in one brief second.

  “I’ll be right over.” Dave calmed her with his easy, smooth voice.

  She rushed through her shower, threw on some clothes, not paying attention whether they were appropriate for the interview. She didn’t care. The story didn’t hold much interest to her. Dave arrived as she finished applying her makeup. She was half tempted to cancel the interview or find a substitute, but Dave convinced her to go ahead with it.

  “You need a diversion from this case, and this will create the appearance of normalcy if he is watching you.” Dave said. “I don’t want you to deviate from your daily habits.

  “I’ll assign a tail, and maybe they’ll notice someone. If this guy is following you, he’s bound to stand out.” He held her for a while, until she finally pulled away and looked at the clock. It was time to go.

  She kissed Dave, said goodbye, and noticed the newspaper on the counter. She didn’t have time to even look at it.

  “Hold on, you aren’t going anyplace until you change that outfit.” Dave grinned at her.

  Susan looked down at her choice of clothing and burst out laughing. She looked like Christmas in her red top and brilliant green slacks.

  “I know certain reds and greens go well together, but this doesn’t quite work. Thanks.”

  She changed quickly and hated to leave, but she didn’t want to be late for another assignment. She kissed Dave again, and he held her for a moment.

  “Try to relax,” he said.

  Susan eased herself out of his arms, smiled, followed him to her car, and kissed him goodbye again. It wouldn’t take much for her to get used to that. She liked the way Dave fell into a pattern of kissing her hello and goodbye.

  Two mores roses sat propped against the windshield.

  Dave took the roses, and she told him about the two from last night, voicing her suspicions of them being from the killer.

  He tried to squelch her fears and convince her they were from an unknown admirer. “This isn’t characteristic of his MO. It doesn’t fit with the profile.”

  “Great,” she said. “Then I have two kooks stalking me.”

  Dave leaned in and kissed her cheek. “We’ll find them, don’t worry.”

  * * *

  Susan drove away and a couple of minutes later, McBride pulled out, and tailed her. Dave wished he felt as sure as he sounded when he told her they’d get the stalker. Her apartment had been staked out, and still no one saw who put the roses on her car or at the door to her apartment. And how had they gotten in? Horace said he hadn’t noticed anyone. The thought that someone had a key to the building, or worse, lived there, scared the crap out of him.

  He would have tailed her himself, but he still had a case to work. Somehow, they had to find something, some small piece of evidence that would lead them to the killer. Whoever this guy was, he was good. Knew how to avoid leaving trace evidence, knew something about crime scenes. A former cop? Present cop? Lawyer? Whoever it was knew enough not to get careless. Cleaned up after himself. But one of these days, he’d forget something, and then they’d get him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Herb Miller stood talking to Ray in front of City Hall. It looked like Ray talked Gloria out of another assignment. Darn it, she and Gloria had planned on going to lunch afterward. Susan parked the car and approached the men, throwing a questioning glance in Ray’s direction while she held out her hand to Herb Miller.

  “Mr. Miller, I’m Susan Weston. Are you ready to get started?”

  The interview went well. Harvest Day sounded interesting, even to her. Maybe she’d ask Dave if he’d like to go with her. Ray asked her to lunch, and she agreed, only to hear his explanation of why he had replaced Gloria again.

  “I know you expected Gloria. She told me you had planned on going to lunch. I had to deal with her to trade assignments. I always loved Strongsville and wanted the assignment.” Ray pulled her chair out and leaned close against her. Too close, as far as Susan was concerned.

  She tried to focus on the c
onversation.

  “Gloria finally agreed, but only after I promised to trade any one of my assignments she wants.” Ray smiled, took her hand, and asked her a question about the phone calls, and what she thought of the headlines the last two days.

  She pulled her hand away. “I haven’t even looked at this morning’s paper.

  This wasn’t a topic she cared to discuss. The phone call this morning had rattled her. And, she didn’t like him touching her. Not that she found him repulsive. Ray was a darn good-looking guy. She just wasn’t interested, and she didn’t like people fawning all over her.

  She looked at her watch, jumped up, made an excuse, and, again, left before they finished eating. This time, she left him with the check.

  She stopped at the office to write the story.

  Harvest Days, a family oriented event, will be held in Strongsville October 1st through the 5th. Demonstrations of various crafts such as quilting, basket weaving, candle dipping, and spinning will be presented.

  She leaned back to read it, then continued, listing the times, faxed the story to the proper department and went to look for Ernie.

  “You know I don’t like you on this murder story,” he said.

  “I appreciate your concern, but they are my stories, and I have the right to the byline.”

  “You’re right. But I still don’t like it.” Ernie turned in his chair, signaling the interview was over.

  Gary waylaid her on her way out. “Hey, Susan, don’t forget to meet me at the square tomorrow for the Playhouse Festival story.

  She nodded her acknowledgement and left. Why did everyone choose today to talk to her? The uneasy feeling that something bad was about to happen caused her stomach to ache. She wished she could just go away. Hide. Anything to escape.

  Susan looked at her watch and realized she was supposed to be at Clare’s in an hour, and it was a forty-five minute drive to Riverdale. She wished her sisters lived closer to Cleveland. She didn’t like driving an hour and a half every visit, and she hated driving at night. Clare couldn’t understand her fear of driving. Of course, she was the one who moved away. Clare and her parents lived in Riverdale all their lives.