“Oh, my God. Peter!” Susan swallowed hard.
Dave turned back to her. “You know him?”
“Peter Richards. I met him at Meliti’s Market. I went out with him once a long time ago.” Susan couldn’t take her gaze from the body.
One arm cradled a carved-out pumpkin with a picture of a female inside, presumably of Mrs. Richards, the other hand grasped words from a nursery rhyme. The large magazine letters were easy to read even from the distance she stood. “Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater, had a wife and couldn’t keep her.”
Susan put her hand to her mouth, afraid of the scream building inside. “That’s my scarf.”
Dave pushed her back. “You need to leave. Go on get out of here. You saw enough.”
Susan made her way back to Dave’s car through the trees that surrounded the park. She couldn’t get Peter’s body out of her mind with her scarf tied around his neck.
Gary and Ray stood talking to Dan Hill. Dan waved.
Bastard, she thought. Because of him, Dave was suspended, and she was a suspect. And he had the nerve to wave.
She kept walking. But for her contact with the killer, and now Dave, she’d be standing on the sideline just like them, trying to get a story from a police source.
She assumed Ray and Gary had tried to get pictures. The best they’d be able to do this time was of the park. Since it was such a busy street, the city had surrounded the small neighborhood park with trees and shrubbery to filter the noise and created a private setting. It also made it easily accessible and hidden for the killer.
She drove Dave’s car back to her apartment. He had insisted she take it; he’d be a long time and could get a ride back to her place. Sitting down at the computer, not racing to meet the deadline, allowed more time to think.
Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater was, of course the headline.
In a quiet park-like setting, secluded from traffic and the many homes that surrounded it, Peter Richards, age 32, became the latest victim of the nursery rhyme killer. His body was found cradling a pumpkin in one hand and the nursery rhyme in the other. Police believe the body was moved from the scene of the crime and posed against the sliding board in the park.
This is the sixth murder of its kind, and police still have no leads in the case. A cautious killer, no trace evidence has been found at this point. Anyone with information that leads to the arrest of an individual or individuals is requested to call the police. A reward has been offered by the victim’s families.
She faxed the story, leaned back, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.
Peter wasn’t a small man. How had someone got the better of him? All the victims were strangled. Why that method? Strangulation was personal. The killer had to look the victim in the eyes. Who hated these people so much and why? Susan shivered, got up, and paced her apartment. She had to think of something else, but what? It seemed her whole life revolved around the murders. And Dave.
What a strange turn of events that brought her and Dave together. She would have preferred a different meeting, and even though this helped her career, she couldn’t help wishing they’d met under different circumstances.
The fact that six people were dead bothered her, especially since she thought there must be a way to prevent it. Dave and the police were doing everything possible, and yet he ran free. There were no witnesses. Friends and family of the victims had been questioned, and no one understood who or why anyone wanted to hurt, let alone kill, any of them. They were all upright citizens and good family people who contributed to their communities.
Why had the killer singled them out? What was the connection? Most of them had grown up in the same neighborhood, even gone to the same schools together. But then they had gone their separate ways, having no connection with each other as adults. None of them had been good friends or socialized with each other. Granted, they probably saw each other at Meliti’s Market, maybe even spoke. But, they weren’t friends. In fact, she probably knew them better than they knew each other.
Too tired to try to figure it out, she picked up Bella and went to bed. She’d had enough for one day.
Susan sipped her coffee the next morning and read the paper. Clare had called to set up lunch. Her sister sounded excited, but said they’d talk at lunch. Susan shook her head and laughed. It must have been the quickest phone conversation with Clare in history.
She set the paper on the counter and rubbed Bella’s head. A story caught her eye about a stalker leaving roses on the doorstep of a Parma woman. She picked up the paper and focused her attention on the story.
A Parma man has been arrested in connection with the stalking of an unnamed Parma woman. Walter Egan allegedly stalked the woman, placing a single rose on the doorsteps to her home, office, and her car. He made phone calls to the woman’s home from nearby phone booths and left messages relating to her looks, the last one threatening. This has been going on for two months, and the police nabbed him red-handed. Police believe the man suffers from erotomania, a disease that makes someone think a person is in love with him and sending him private messages. The victim says Walter Egan is a stranger to her.
A rush of adrenalin ran through her body.. Could this be the same nutcase who left the roses at her apartment? She didn’t recognize the name. And he didn’t live in her area, but Parma wasn’t far from here. She grabbed her phone and dialed Dave’s cell phone.
He answered on the first ring. “No, I haven’t seen the paper yet, but I’ll check into it. They were able to get a partial print from the last flowers. Oh, and Susan, I’m back on the case.”
“That’s a bit of good news.” Thank God for small favors. It was her fault Dave was thrown off the case to begin with. All because of that darn bracelet.
Susan set the paper aside and went to meet her sister.
She pulled into the parking lot of Erma’s Restaurant and found Clare waiting for her. After a quick hug and kiss hello, Clare barely gave the hostess time to seat them before she started talking.
No way could Susan get a word in, so she just ate and tried to listen. Clare’s work was going well, but mostly she talked about Steve. “He asked for a divorce. There is someone else. At first he didn’t want to discuss our problem, but I insisted. I told him if we didn’t talk about it I was divorcing him. That’s when he told me about his mistress.”
Why didn’t that surprise her? Susan would have bet her life on it when Clare talked about it the other day.
Her cell phone rang as Clare babbled on. There wasn’t any point in commenting. Her sister was in a world of her own, and there was no reason to intrude. Clare didn’t even notice the phone ringing or Susan answering it.
No sooner did Susan hang up when Clare glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry, I have to run; I have an appointment.” She kissed Susan’s cheek as they walked out of the restaurant together.
Susan decided to do a little shopping to help pass the time. She didn’t have an assignment for the paper until next week, which was fine with her. She had sold a couple of articles to a magazine, and that would help tide her over.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Susan stopped at Meliti’s to pick up something for dinner before going home. The smell of the simmering tomato sauce and the fresh-baked bread, hot out of the oven, hit her full force when she opened the door. Her mouth watered as she walked around the store. She could almost taste the rich, spicy sauce and experience the smoothness of the creamy Alfredo sauce.
Greg came in while she was talking to old Mrs. Meliti and picking out pastry for dessert.
“Hey, Susan, how you doing?” He smiled and nodded his hello to old Mrs. Meliti.
They exchanged a few pleasantries, and Susan looked at her watch, pretending she had something important to do. She didn’t feel like standing here talking to Greg. She said goodbye and turned to go.
“Hey, wait up, I’ll walk with you,” he said as she reached the checkout counter.
Great, she thought, there’s no way around this.
>
“Didn’t you forget something?” She nodded at his empty hands. “Did you forget to buy something?”
“Oh, uh...” His face reddened. “Actually, well to be honest, I saw you through the window and came in to see you.”
Susan’s cheeks burned. Think, darn it, what could she say to discourage him?
Obviously, turning down his offer of a date and telling him she was seeing someone didn’t do the trick. What else could she do or say?
She paid for her groceries and turned to leave. Greg kept up with her fast pace as she hurried to her apartment. There had to be some way to make him understand she wasn’t interested in him. But what? Heck, she’d never been in this situation before.
“Have you heard any more from the nursery rhyme murderer?” he asked as they neared the apartment building.
“No, thank God, I haven’t.” She turned and almost ran up the three steps to their building. “And to be truthful, I hope I don’t.”
Greg put his key in the lock and held the door for her. She pressed the elevator button and waited. Why did it take so long for the stupid thing when she was in a hurry? She drummed her fingers on the grocery bags.
“So there’s still no chance of us going out is there?” Greg stood in front of her and looked her in the eye.
She took a deep breath and sighed. “No, I’m afraid not.” She didn’t want to sound nasty, but she had to be honest.
“It’s the cop, isn’t it?”
The elevator arrived, and she hurried to get on. He followed her in and pushed the button for the third floor. They rode in silence. Susan didn’t see any point in answering his question. It didn’t matter if it was Dave or not, she wasn’t attracted to Greg. He walked her to her door and waited for her to go in.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “Yeah, it’s the cop.” There — she said it. Now maybe he’d leave her alone.
She went in and locked the door behind her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet eating her curds and whey. I never wanted to frighten Miss Muffet away, until now, that is.
This one was special. He hated to do away with her. Probably the only girl who ever talked to him, paid attention to him. At least for a while. He had called her, and she agreed to meet with him. That was something wasn’t it? She knew who he was and still agreed to meet. She was the only one he used his real name with. She was still beautiful.
“Hi,” she said when she walked up to him. Just like that — casual, as if they’d seen each other yesterday. For one brief moment, he almost changed his mind.
“So what do you want? I don’t have much time.” She looked at her watch.
He raised his hand to her face, and she pulled back, a look of revulsion in her eyes.
That did it. He grabbed her hair and pulled her next to the sliding board, hitting her head on the ladder rungs. She cried out, and he banged it again, put his hand around her neck, and squeezed. She grabbed his hands and tried to push him away, but she was no match for him. He lowered her to the ground as he squeezed. Her eyes filled with terror as realization hit her. At her last gasp for life, he squeezed harder, and then released his grip. He had to hurry. It was earlier than usual, and he didn’t have a minute to waste. He picked up her feet and dragged her body to the mushroom-shaped toys. After he posed her, he cleaned up the scene, got rid of the drag marks, pulled off his suit and hurried away with a last look at her. Just for a moment, he regretted what he had done. But just for a moment. She deserved to die.
* * *
“What was that all about?” Dave startled Susan. She hadn’t expected him until later.
She set her package on the counter and went into his waiting arms. “My neighbor asked me out again.”
He stroked her head. His fingers curled a strand of hair. “You have a message. I didn’t listen to it.”
Not wanting to leave his arms, she leaned in closer. Who cared about the message? She only wanted him to hold her. For one day, she didn’t want to think about the killer.
“It can wait.” She reached up, pulled his face down to meet hers, and pressed her lips to his. Her fingers tangled in his silky hair.
“Hm, I know what dessert is, what’s for dinner?”
Susan laughed, pulled away, and went to unpack the groceries.
Dave joined her in the kitchen and looked in the bags. “Ah, Fettuccini Alfredo. You’re going to turn me into an Italian.”
“Promises, promises.” Susan ran her finger down his cheek and across his lips.
“You keep that up, and we won’t bother with dinner.”
Dave pulled her to him and kissed her. His tongue darted into her mouth, and electricity sizzled through her body down to her toes.
“You’re right. If you keep that up, we won’t bother with dinner, and I’m starved.” She was starved, all right, but not for food. Still, she knew better than to give into the cravings of her body. And it craved Dave big time.
After Susan started dinner, she played back her messages. The sound of the voice grated on her nerves. “Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet. Will I have my way?” The connection, as usual, went dead.
Dave’s puzzled look matched her thoughts and feelings. What did that message mean?
“Wait!” Susan found her phone book, turned to the listings under “M”. “Only one listing for Muffet, but they live far out in the suburbs” Darn, she really thought she had it.
Dave dialed his phone, “Morgan, I want you to find out everything you can about a Robert and Katherine Muffet, including her maiden name. Find out previous addresses, and where they went to school. Maybe, just maybe…” Dave crossed his fingers. “We can prevent a murder.”
Susan cooked the fettuccini noodles while Dave fixed a salad. It was fun having him help in the kitchen. They worked well together, and conversation wasn’t necessary. He poured two glasses of a white zinfandel, and they sat down at the small table for dinner.
“Emily wants us to come over this weekend. I told her I’d check with you and see which day you’re free.”
“Either day is fine.” She moved her noodles around on the plate, her mind preoccupied by the latest phone call.
“Good. Then how about Saturday? We’ll go to dinner first. Do you play dominoes?” He buttered a fresh roll and took a bite.
It suddenly occurred to her that they had never been on a real date. They had dined together at restaurants, here and in Florida, but they never actually went on a date. She wondered if this could be classified as a date.
Somehow, they had just eased into a relationship without all the anxiety of the first date, first kiss experience. She was falling more in love with Dave each time she saw him. But, she also treasured the friendship they had developed. Maybe it would turn into something more. For now, she was satisfied with this stage, although her body wanted more. Much more.
Muffet, the name from the phone conversation came back to her. Muffet, muffet.
“Maybe it’s a maiden name.” She set her fork down and looked at Dave. “We need to get a copy of the year book from twenty-five years ago. I’ll check with the school in the morning. She jumped up from the table and pulled out her lap-top.
When Will It End?, she typed. She knew someone out there had information on the killer. Maybe they weren’t aware of it.
A tall man in dark-gray shirt, medium build, with a large nose. His head always covered by a hat, no one had been able to identify hair color. There had never been enough light for witnesses to describe eye color.
Not that anyone other than the victims had gotten that close to him.
That description fit a lot of people.
She typed aimlessly, no reason for what she was writing.
Dave stood by her side, touched her shoulder, leaned down to see what she’d written. He hit the save button and closed the lid, pulled her up, and took her in his arms.
He kissed her ear. “You didn’t answer if you play dominoes,” he whispere
d.
Susan burst out laughing. Talk about spoiling a moment. She pulled away, looked into his eyes, stood on tiptoe and whispered seductively in his ear. “No. Will you teach me?”
Realizing the absurdity of the moment, she tickled him, which caused him to return the favor. They found themselves rolling around the floor when the phone interrupted their horseplay.
Rolling over, Dave rose up on his elbow and leaned on his hand, alert, listening for the inevitable message.
“Hey diddle, diddle, I have the fiddle. Are you done with the dish and the spoon? I’m not a little dog, but I laughed to see the last sight. And there’s no cow, but there sure is a moon.” The line went dead.
They sat up and looked at each other. “Now he’s talking in riddles. What’s that supposed to mean? Do you think he knew we had dinner together? The reference to the dish and the spoon.”
Dave shook his head, hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know, Susan. I don’t know what any of it means. I have to get this guy.”
The playful mood of the evening ended. “I better go.” Dave picked up his jacket just as his cell phone rang, and her police scanner announced an unidentified body had been found, female, white, late twenties-early thirties.
Susan grabbed her jacket and followed Dave. There was no doubt in her mind they would identify the body as somebody named Muffett.
They arrived at the scene, a park on the outskirts of town. This wasn’t his usual neighborhood. The victim lay posed on a mushroom shaped toy, her cloudy blue-eyes stared like the other victims, her face filled with terror. Her long, blond hair tangled with dirty flecks of dried leaves clinging to the strands. In her hand, the rhyme ‘Little Miss Muffett sat on a tuffet, did the spider bite her?’ A large black plastic spider, like the ones found in Halloween decorations, clung to her arm. A bowl of milk, probably to represent the curds and whey, spilled on her lap, and around her neck hung a medallion that Susan had won in the sixth grade.
This time Dave stayed with her. He waited.
Ring Around the Rosy Page 19
