by BJ Wingate
“How long had you been married?” Vanessa found she was actually interested in his answers.
Calvin straightened up a bit, resting both forearms on the edge of the bar. “Two years when the affair started, three when she left. I gave her the better part of a year to come back but instead divorce papers arrived in the mail.” He shrugged. “Suffice it to say, I signed the papers and sent them back.” He downed half his drink again and sat with the half-empty glass in one hand.
“You still miss her.” Vanessa sipped her own drink as she continued to watch him. “Any children?” For the first time she was considering her actions. Not good.
“No, thank God. That woman cleaned out my bank account on the day she left. Took me several months of working overtime with odd and end jobs on the side to get out of debt. Guess I should be glad she never filed for alimony.”
Vanessa nodded. Times could be hard for anyone. She glanced at the wall clock behind the bar. One thirty. It would be closing time soon. She set her glass down and looked at the door.
Calvin watched Vanessa’s actions and sighed. “Guess you just decided you have to go now that you know how broken I am.” He shook his head slightly. ‘It’s okay if you do. Totally understandable.”
Vanessa looked back at Calvin. “Actually, I was thinking we should get out of here. Together. If you want to that is.” She watched as realization hit him and he downed the rest of his drink.
“Um, yeah, sure. Where do you want to go?” Calvin was definitely interested.
Vanessa smiled, reached out and drew one finger down his cheek slowly. “I was hoping you would have an idea about that.”
Calvin nodded, motioned for the door and they strolled out together. While they had been talking most of the patrons had left or been replaced by other people. Vanessa smiled and led the way outside. Once there, Calvin checked his pockets for the keys to his car, found them and hit the button to find the car. It was a short distance away and not far from her own vehicle.
When Calvin unlocked the car door, Vanessa touched his arm lightly. “Are you okay to drive?” She watched him, a concerned look on her face.
Calvin smiled. “Sure. Been told I drive better drunk than sober.” He laughed a little at that.
Vanessa glanced at her own car. “In that case, how about I follow you. I don’t like the idea of leaving my car parked here, if you know what I mean.”
Calvin nodded. “Sure, you follow me, and I’ll lead the way.” He stood and watched as she walked to her car, opened the door and got in. Then he slid into the driver’s seat of his own vehicle, started it and drove off, making sure she was behind him.
Vanessa followed Calvin to a small two-story house on the outskirts of town. It was dark except for a single light left on somewhere inside. It was barely noticeable. The next closest house was half a block away on either side so lots of open space here. It even had a white picket fence across the front of the yard.
They pulled into the driveway and both of them got out of their respective vehicles. Calvin waited until Vanessa walked up to him, since she was parked behind him in the driveway, before going up the front steps and opening the door. Ushering her inside, he closed and locked the door behind them then led the way to the living room. She saw a large fireplace already laid with wood, comfortable overstuffed furniture but little in the way of decorations. She glanced around then settled on the couch while he lit the fireplace.
“This house is old. It was my father and mother’s before it became mine. Like I said it was a good thing my ex didn’t go for alimony, or I might have lost this place. As it was, I still had to pay the taxes and all the bills and had zero money for a time.” Calvin got the fire going and stood up.
Vanessa watched as Calvin finished what he was doing. “It would not have been a good thing to lose your home that way.”
Calvin smiled at Vanessa. “Somehow I knew you would understand.” He shoved his hands into his pockets for a minute. “Ah, you want a drink?”
Vanessa nodded. “Yes, thank you. Rum and coke if you have it.”
Calvin nodded, moved past Vanessa to a small bar in one corner, fixed them both a drink and returned to settle on the couch beside her. He handed her one of the glasses and took a drink from his own.
Vanessa held the glass for a minute considering. This man was treating her nicely, so she wasn’t certain for a change. This was not how she normally felt in this situation. She still didn’t want anything more than conversation with him and yet … he was nice. She sipped her drink and set it on the coffee table in front of her.
“Where is the bathroom?” Vanessa said as the glass hit the tabletop.
“Oh, ah there are two actually. The one down here is back by the kitchen. Go out this door, turn left and follow the hallway back. When you are just outside the kitchen, and you will know trust me, the door is on the right. Light switch is just to the left of the door.” Calvin sipped his own drink quietly.
Vanessa stood up, excused herself and, carrying her purse with her, went to the bathroom. She spent a few minutes inside just calming herself down. Finally, she went back to the room where Calvin was. The couch was turned just enough so that the back was partially toward her. He was leaning back against the cushions, so he was facing the fireplace when she walked into the room quietly. She slipped the knife out, walked over behind him and leaned over a little. He tilted his head back to look up at her and smiled. In that moment, the knife slid across his throat and he gasped. Grabbing his throat, he tried to stand up, stumbled forward and fell across the table in front of him, shattering the glass and breaking the frame.
Vanessa stood there with her eyes closed until she couldn’t hear any more sounds from Calvin. For the first time her actions had bothered her. Then she did what she always did. She retrieved her glass from under his body – luckily, it hadn’t broken, wiped it off and set it on the bar with others like it. She went to the bathroom and wiped off the door handle, the light switch and anything else she might have touched. Returning to the living room, she took his wallet, removed the cash, less than one hundred this time, and dropped it on the couch. She let herself out of the house, going as quietly as she could, got in her car and drove off.
A short distance before she reached the storage place, Vanessa pulled over and sat in the car crying quietly. She didn’t know why she was crying exactly either. She sat there a good twenty minutes before going on to the storage unit, changing clothes once more and heading home.
Fifteen
Alyson sat in the doctor’s office, nervously tapping one foot. She didn’t like doctors. Never had and never would. She didn’t like being prodded and poked and most doctors were so nosy it irritated her. Of course, she would never say anything to them about it. That just wasn’t in her nature. She looked around the small waiting area at the few other people there. An older woman with her husband at her side who looked comfortable with one another, a younger woman with two children. One, a boy, kept running around and was told several times to sit still. The girl was most likely the one who was sick. She sat on her mother’s lap, her head resting on her mother’s shoulder. The girl was quiet, and Alyson wondered if that was normal or not. She thought she herself had been quiet most of her life but at times her past was hazy at best.
On the far side of the room sat a man alone. He had a cane grasped in one hand and kept looking around. He wasn’t old exactly, but he wasn’t young either. He seemed to have a scowl permanently etched on his face. His hair was dark, black most likely but graying at the temples, what most people would call distinguished.
Alyson sighed. She hated waiting as well. Not just in doctor’s offices but anywhere and for almost everything. But that was life. You went and you waited. She looked at her book again and started to read. It seemed to her that she had read that same page a few times in a row already. She shook her head, closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose.
As she sat there a nurse came out of a door with a few papers i
n her hand. She called a man’s name and the one with the cane got up. Then, as he reached her, the nurse looked at a second sheet and called Alyson’s name. Alyson got up, slipping her book into her purse as she did, and walked over. Together all three stepped through the door and started along a hallway.
Asking Alyson to wait a minute, the nurse took the man to a scale, had him get on and noted his weight on the paper. Then she guided him to a room just past the scale and asked him to wait inside. When the nurse returned to Alyson, she did the same with her.
Alyson got on the scale and waited. Usually her weight was around one hundred and thirty and she fully expected it to be that again. Instead though, the scale showed her at one hundred and twenty. She had lost ten pounds somehow. Could being sick have anything to do with it? The nurse led her to a room a short distance down the hall and had her go inside.
The examination room was the same as any other. White walls, counter down one side, examining table and a couple of chairs. Monitors and a computer keyboard on the far side of the examination table. Alyson looked at the table which resembled a rather hard bed and sat in one of the chairs instead. She took her book back out and read again, this time finishing the one page and moving on.
A short time later, maybe fifteen minutes, the doctor came in. It had seemed longer for some reason.
“Hello Ms. Harding. Good to see you. So, what are you here for today? The doctor was in his mid to late thirties, slightly greying hair on the sides, the type that made men look distinguished, with glasses perched on his nose.
Alyson had told the girl at the front desk why she was here, but the doctor always asked again. “I have been sleeping a lot, way more than usual. I was sick a few weeks ago but nothing serious. I was able to treat it with over-the-counter medicines. It’s the sleeping though that has me worried.”
The doctor wrote down what she said. “How so? Most people worry more if they don’t get enough sleep.”
Alyson nodded. “I know but this isn’t normal for me. I can get between six and eight hours of sleep and I’m good, normally that is. But lately it’s been more like ten to twelve hours, and I still feel tired afterward. Like I hadn’t slept at all.”
The doctor nodded. “Very well. I can recommend a sleep study for you that would allow us to check how you sleep. Have you ever walked in your sleep?” The doctor looked at her with kindness.
Alyson shook her head. “Not that I know of. No one has ever said so. Of course, I live alone so I don’t have anyone to ask either.”
The doctor nodded again. “I see. Very well. I will set up the sleep study for you. You should get a call in a week or so giving you the details on when and where to go for it.” He wrote all of that down on the papers and closed them.
“Um … is that it?” Alyson held her purse close to her as she spoke.
The doctor smiled. “Yes, Ms. Harding, that is it. You go on home, and we will find out what is going on at the sleep study, okay?”
With that the doctor escorted her to the door and Alyson headed for the exit. On the way she could hear the man who had been called in when she had yelling at a nurse or someone. She couldn’t make out the words since the room’s door was closed but she knew he was angry. She got out of there as quickly as she could.
After leaving the doctor’s office, Alyson considered going in and working half a day but, since they had no idea how long the appointment would take, she decided to enjoy the rest of the day off. She would drive around town, especially the richer areas, and look at the houses. She liked doing that and dreaming of living in one of them someday.
Sixteen
After receiving a notice about yet another murder, Jessica and Tony arrived at the house of the latest victim, which was in the suburbs, in the early afternoon. Another body had been found in the house and it seemed to be the same MO as before. Connor Jensen and the CSI team were already there of course.
The victim, one Calvin Douglas, was found mainly because a package had been delivered for him that needed a signature. The delivery man had knocked and started to leave a note when he had glanced through the front window and seen the body on the floor in front of the fireplace. Going back to his truck he had first called his dispatcher who told him to call the police which he had. His deliveries would be delayed until he was questioned, which was happening even as Jessica walked up to the house. She saw the delivery man talking more with his hands than his mouth it seemed. A uniform stood watching as well. Jessica told her to let the delivery man go once he was finished and to get his information in case they needed to talk to him again.
Inside the house, more uniforms stood around talking quietly. One approached Jessica and she stopped for a minute.
“Detective, we searched the rest of the house, and it seems the victim lived here alone. No one else’s clothes or belongings are here. There are some old pictures upstairs that might have been his parents or even grandparents but that is about it.” The uniform stood waiting for instructions.
“Thank you, officer. None of the houses out here seem to be especially close to this one but can you and a couple of others check the two on either side for me? And the one across the street just in case someone saw something.” Jessica looked toward the room where Connor was, indicating that she wanted to get on with it.
“Yes mam, right away.” The uniform went over to three others and they headed out to do what Jessica had asked.
With that out of the way, Jessica and Tony both put the paper shoes on over their own and entered the living room where the victim was laying. The table that had stood between the couch and the fireplace had been glass-topped and was in pieces all over the floor. A single glass lay near the body with a bit of liquid still in it. So, he had been having a drink, maybe with someone else, was killed and in trying to what, get away? fell over the table shattering it? Connor looked up as they walked in.
“Same MO as the others,” Connor said from where he was stooped down by the body. “Thin bladed knife, right-handed. From what I can tell, he was sitting on the couch when it happened, stood up, and fell forward over the table.”
“Only one glass?” Jessica was making notes on what Connor said so Tony asked the question.
Connor nodded. “Just the one. If there had been two whoever did this cleaned it up and put it away.” He stood up and walked over to where Jessica and Tony stood. “Whoever is doing this is intelligent. Either they have watched a lot of crime shows and have an idea of what to do to cover their tracks or they have inside information.”
Jessica frowned. “Are you saying it might be someone in law enforcement?”
Connor shrugged. “I don’t know. But whoever it is, male or female, they know what they are doing. They are being careful not to leave clues behind. That means they are either wearing gloves the entire time or they kept going back and wiping stuff down.”
One of the CSI agents looked up. “I’d say they are wiping stuff off. In some of the cases where we would normally find the victim’s prints, there are none at all.”
One of the other CSI people spoke up. “Like the front doorknob, bathroom sink, stuff like that.”
Jessica nodded. “Thank you. That helps, I think. I just wish we could find a witness or some other evidence on this case.” Normally Jessica would never have said that, but these people were as invested in this case as she was now. She moved around the room looking without touching what was there. Very few decorations. That was typical of a man. Most of them didn’t bother with the various niceties. Tony would like this place as it was. Pictures upstairs the one uniform had said. Jessica made her way to the stairs and headed up. Tony remained in the living room
There were four doors upstairs. One, the first one on the right, was a bathroom. Shaving cream and a razor lay on the back of the sink. A towel lay on the floor in front of the tub. Brown rugs in front of the tub and sink were the only other things she could see without opening doors or drawers. She did that quickly while wearing gloves. Medicine cab
inet looked normal. Band-Aids on one shelf, one or two things on the others. One prescription bottle on the lower shelf. She reached out and picked it up. Sleeping pills. Apparently, the victim had been having trouble in that regard as it was in the victim’s name. Jessica put them back and moved to the next door down the hall.
This was a bedroom that apparently wasn’t used very often. Dust covered some of the furniture in a semi-thick layer. The bed was made with an old-style quilt, small accent pillows were set neatly in front of the pillows. The furniture itself was cherry wood and it all looked like antiques. Jessica closed the door without going in and moved on.
The next room looked more modern. A large platform bed sat in the middle, with a dresser to one side and a six-drawer type chest of drawers was in one corner. A glass topped desk stood against one wall with an executive desk chair in front of it. The computer that sat on the desk looked new. The bed was unmade, the covers tossed back from the left side suggesting that was the side the victim had gotten up from. No impression on the other pillow or the bed so he had slept alone.
Moving to the last door, Jessica opened it and peered inside. He must have been using this room as storage. There were odd and end pieces of furniture inside. A bed frame with a full-size box spring and mattress leaned against a wall, a few boxes were stacked against the opposite wall. A shelf just inside the door held a variety of old pictures. Some of those were black and white and set in antique frames. These were what the uniforms had been talking about. There was dust around and on most of them. It appeared that one or two had been handled not all that long ago. A woman in a white dress and, when Jessica wiped the dust off, the victim standing beside her. So, he was married or had been at least. Taking the picture with her, Jessica left the room and headed back to the stairs.
As Jessica was starting down, a ruckus sounded from below. A man was yelling, demanding to get inside to see his friend or to at least know what was going on. Jessica stood and watched as this sandy haired man yelled and fought to get past two uniforms and Tony who all stood just inside the front door. Jessica made her way to the bottom of the stairs.
