Merciless Crimes: A Thrilling Closed Circle Mystery Series (Merciless Murder Mystery Thriller)

by Tikiri Herath

  It was uncanny to hear the hollow electronic sound beneath the canopy of these trees. It was almost obscene.

  I clicked on the call button and put the phone to my ear.

  “Ms. Kade?” came a frightened female voice.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “Sally… Sally Robertson.”

  Her voice sounded breathless and hurried.

  “Sally?” I said in surprise.

  Katy’s eyes widened.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “You said to call…”

  Sally stopped. I could hear her breathing hard. Something was wrong.

  “What is it? Speak up.”

  Katy got close and put her ear next to my mobile.

  Sally’s voice came in rushed. “You have to go back. Quick.”

  “Why?” I said, frowning. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s… er… it’s Cathy.”

  A chill went down my spine.

  “What about her? Where is she?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  Where she always was. Why would Sally call me to tell me this?

  “What happened?” I tried again, feeling a knot in my stomach.

  “She’s dead.”

  Chapter Forty-seven

  I hung up.

  Sally had broken down sobbing when I’d asked her how Cathy had died. I knew I’d get nothing more out of her in that state.

  It was time to head back.

  I brought up the GPS app, trying to stop my fingers from trembling. News of Cathy’s death had shaken me.

  How can Cathy be gone?

  We had shared coffee and French toast with her only a few hours ago. My brain was steadfastly refusing to believe it.

  Katy shook her head.

  “Every time we get to know someone nice, they’re gone. Sam, Jayden, and now Cathy.”

  She was right. The main connection between all three deaths was they had all died within hours of Katy and me talking to them.

  My mind whirled.

  Did we expedite their murders? Was Martha May playing with us? Playing a dangerous game with peoples’ lives?

  I racked my memory to recall the conversations we’d had with the deceased. All three seemed to know more than they shared, but nothing they’d said incriminated anyone. Why would anyone want them dead?

  The GPS app came to life.

  If there was one thing I was grateful for, it was the Wi-Fi booster Martha May had installed for the school. My phone worked in this section of the woods and that was more than I could wish for at that moment.

  “Worst-case scenario,” I said, as I swiped through the screens. “If the GPS dies, the compass is working. All we have to do is to point it south.”

  “Or call Tetyana,” said Katy, her lips in a thin line.

  I clicked on the school’s address and pressed GO.

  Katy grabbed my arm.

  I looked at her in alarm.

  “What?” I said.

  She leaned close, clutching my sleeve tightly.

  “There’s someone here,” she said in a whisper.

  I spun around. “Where?”

  “I saw a shadow over there,” she said, pointing at the grove of birch trees ahead of us. Growing around their base was a rambling wild bush that could have easily shielded an adult. “It was watching us.”

  My heart racing, I swept my eyes around the grove, trying to identify any strange movement that would give away the interloper.

  But the shrubs remained still, and the trees stood quietly, as if they were watching us back.

  “Was it an animal?” I whispered.

  “Not sure,” said Katy, her face white now. She was still holding on to my arm, like her life depended on it.

  I pulled her behind the giant maple tree we’d been standing next to and slipped my phone into my pocket. I needed a different tool right now.

  I aimed my Glock at the clump of trees.

  If it was a bear, all we had to do was give it time to sniff around and realize we were not dinner material. But if it was a human, we would have more to bargain for.

  We waited behind the tree, not daring to breathe, watching our surroundings and keeping our ears alert for any telltale sound.

  A crunch of the leaves, a snap of a twig.

  I was sure Katy’s heart was beating as fast as mine.

  We were in a region we weren’t familiar with. I had no clue if anyone even came into the forest. If they did, they’d have to have a darn good reason. This wasn’t casual hiking country.

  “Maybe I imagined it,” whispered Katy after five minutes.

  Whoever she’d seen could have slipped away, but there was the chance they were still there, waiting for us.

  “What exactly did you see?” I said, turning to her.

  “A shadow,” she replied, frowning. “Dark. It moved behind those bushes.”

  “Was it upright?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, a human?”

  “I guess… so.”

  “Did it look like a man? A woman?”

  “Just a shadow. It moved. I panicked. It was a blur.”

  Was it Isabella? I wondered. I couldn’t imagine that girl having the self-discipline to sneak around us and remain hidden for so long.

  We stayed behind the tree for another five minutes, in case someone was waiting for us to come out first.

  I wondered if Sally’s call had unnerved Katy so much she’d conjured things in her head. The call had rattled me too.

  Was Sally playing with us?

  Her call could have been a hoax, to distract us, or to lure us somewhere dangerous.

  On paper, Sally came across as the poor girl who’d made it. But her past was dark.

  Being a foster kid wasn’t easy. I’d never forget the horror stories Katy had told me about the times she escaped from one foster family to another in Toronto, sometimes feeling safer on the streets than in one of those homes.

  We knew little of Sally’s background.

  She’d been bullied at this very school and had lost her best friend. I knew from my past what it was like to lose a loved one and never know if they were still alive. That kind of hurt can eat right into you.

  I looked around me.

  We couldn’t hang around here forever.

  “Cover me,” I whispered, as I pulled away from the tree and slipped behind a clump of bushes nearby.

  Treading softly, I moved in a wide semicircle toward the birch trees, stopping every few seconds to check for sound or movement.

  I got closer to the trees, keeping my gun steady and aimed straight ahead. It took me five minutes to get behind the grove. I swiveled around, but there was no one.

  After checking for tread marks, bent branches, flattened leaves, or any clue to someone having been here, I walked out.

  “All clear,” I called out.

  Katy stepped away from the tree, relief on her face. She gave a nervous glance around her.

  “Sorry, maybe it was nothing. My brain’s gone mushy after hearing Cathy died.”

  I nodded.

  I knew exactly how she was feeling.

  I pulled my phone out again. The screen flickered to life, showing me where the school building was in relation to our position.

  “A twenty-five-minute brisk walk back,” I said. “Keep a sharp eye out on the right, and I’ll watch on the left.”

  “Will do,” said Katy.

  We turned around and hiked back, watching our step as we dodged around the trees and bushes.

  Only one thought swirled in my brain as we stumbled through the woods.

  Is Cathy really dead?

  Chapter Forty-eight

  It took us half an hour to get back to the school.

  A handful of doleful-looking staff were huddled outside the back door, like they were at a funeral.

  They turned around nervously as they heard us approach.

  “Where’s Cathy?” I called out as we got close.
<
br />   Lou-Anne turned a tear-stained face to us.

  “She’s gone,” she said, wiping her cheeks.

  “How did this happen?” asked Katy.

  “One minute she was telling me to put the skillet away,” said Harry, his face pale. “Next minute, she was holding her chest and trying to breathe.”

  “Looked like a heart attack to me,” said a nearby server, shaking his head. “I couldn’t believe it.”

  “Heart attack?” I said, feeling a red flag in my gut. “Are you sure?”

  Harry rubbed his face. The others shrugged and looked at me in a daze.

  “What was Cathy doing moments before she fell?” I asked.

  “On her coffee break,” said Lou-Anne. “It’s what she always does before lunch. She eats after everyone else is served, so she needs that coffee to keep her going through the lunch hour.”

  More tears rolled down her face.

  “I can’t believe she’s gone,” she cried.

  Katy put an arm around the girl, but she was clearly distressed. They all were.

  “Who was in the kitchen when she fell?” I said.

  “It was just before lunch, so we were running off our feet,” replied Harry with a despondent shrug. “I wasn’t watching who was coming in or out.”

  “It gets real busy,” added another staff member. “I was chopping carrots for dinner and wasn’t looking either.”

  “Then, just like that, she was gone,” said a server.

  How was this possible?

  Cathy had looked fine less than an hour ago, unhappy and frustrated with her position, but healthy, fit, and very much alive.

  I pushed through the crowd to walk inside the kitchen when someone grabbed my arm.

  “You’re not allowed in there,” said Lou-Anne.

  I turned to face her.

  “Let me go, hun.”

  “Ms. May told us to get out and stay out,” she said. “Told us not to let anyone in. She’s in a horrible mood.”

  “She was shouting like a gestapo,” said Harry.

  “Let her try to stop me,” I said and stepped inside.

  Nick Davies was standing in an empty kitchen, looking even more rattled than his usual self. He jerked up as Katy and I walked in.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said gruffly.

  “Where’s Cathy?” I snapped, scanning the room.

  Nick gave a scared side glance at something behind the counter. I marched over and bent down to see a body lying on the floor next to the dishwasher, covered with a blanket.

  Letting out a breath, I stepped toward her and crouched next to the body, and gently removed the top of the sheet.

  “Oh, my god,” said Katy, taking a sharp breath in.

  Cathy’s face had turned a deathly pale hue.

  How long has she been lying here?

  I checked her pulse, but there was nothing.

  My mind whirled between anger and grief.

  Cathy, what happened?

  “You can’t touch her,” stammered Nick from behind the counter, agitated, but keeping a safe distance from us and Cathy’s body. “Leave right now.”

  He was clearly uncomfortable being left in charge here.

  Where’s Martha May?

  “I told you to leave,” came Nick’s voice.

  I stood up and stepped up to him, my shoulders squared and my jaws taut. I wasn’t about to take instructions from this man.

  Nick took a nervous step back.

  “Who found her?” I asked.

  “It… er… it was the staff,” he stammered.

  “When?”

  “More than an hour ago… I was in my office when we heard the screaming. We came running and saw her on the floor.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Ms. May and me.”

  “Did you move her?”

  “No… of course not. Ms. May went to call the doctor and told me to stay here. I… er… covered her in a blanket….”

  “How did you find her?”

  “She was wheezing like mad. The kitchen staff was crying and screaming, and she was on the floor, grabbing her chest like she couldn’t breathe.”

  “Who was in the kitchen at that time?”

  His eyes flickered, momentarily. “The staff.”

  He was lying. But why? Was he protecting someone?

  I tried again. “Was there anyone other than the kitchen staff when you came in?”

  Nick stared at me, seemingly having lost his voice.

  “What about the teachers? Tom? Ruby?”

  “It was just regular staff here, like always.”

  I glanced around the room, my eyes skimming for evidence of violence.

  Cathy’s Mickey Mouse mug sat on the counter next to the dishwasher. She had been on her coffee break, like Lou-Anne said.

  But there were no blood splatters, bloodstained utensils, or bullet holes anywhere.

  Someone had been chopping carrots in one corner of the counter, and someone else had been washing potatoes in the large industrial sink. The kitchen stove was humming, and an oversized steel pot simmered over low heat on the stove.

  The smell of seafood chowder hung heavy in the air, but there was nothing untoward here that told me a murder had taken place.

  Except for Cathy’s lifeless body on the floor.

  Nick saw me look around, his eyes following mine, as if he wanted to see what I was seeing.

  “Where’s Sally?” I asked.

  “She… er, I don’t know… She checked Cathy and told us she was dead. I thought she went to call an ambulance.”

  “Does anyone know how this happened?” I asked.

  “Clam chowder.”

  “Clam chowder?” said Katy. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Allergies,” he said. “She was allergic to seafood. It was on the menu today.”

  “Why did she cook it, if she was allergic to it?” asked Katy, frowning.

  “It’s Ms. May’s favorite fall dish, so she made sure it was on the menu every Wednesday.” He paused. “Maybe….”

  “Maybe what?” I said, narrowing my eyes.

  “Maybe she ate some by mistake. That’s what Ms. May said. Sally said the same thing too.”

  I looked at the blackboard behind him. I remembered Lou-Anne writing the lunch menu on it. It was still there, but it made no sense for an intelligent adult like Cathy to eat anything that would harm her.

  “Cathy was smarter than that,” I said. “The staff said she didn’t eat until everyone else, so that doesn’t make sense.”

  “Probably tasted it to make sure it was okay.”

  “Taste something she knew she was allergic to?”

  Nick shrugged. “That’s what Ms. May said.”

  “Ms. May isn’t a medical examiner,” I said. “Neither is Sally Robertson. We need an autopsy.”

  Nick’s eyes bulged.

  “Whatever for?”

  It was time to have a brutally honest conversation with Martha May.

  “Where’s your boss, Nick?” I asked, ignoring his question.

  “In her… her office.”

  I turned around to leave when I heard sirens wailing in the distance.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Katy and I were ten feet from the principal’s office when Martha May came barreling out.

  The headmistress was always well put together, but now she looked like she’d been twirled by a tornado.

  Her hair bun was a disheveled spindle on her head, like she’d torn into it in frustration. Her face was flushed and her woolen jacket sat crooked.

  “You’re supposed to be investigators,” she shouted as she spotted us. “Why is this happening?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” I replied.

  “Why didn’t you stop this?”

  “You didn’t even want us to investigate Sam and Jayden’s deaths, Martha,” I pointed out, keeping my voice leveled.

  She stared at me open-mou
thed, as if astounded. Then, she threw her hands in the air.

  “What in goodness’ name is going on? Someone tell me!”

  “We’re trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together, but we need your support,” I said, mustering all the patience I had in me.

  Her face darkened. A nerve twitched on her face.

  “I swear someone has it in for me,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard me. “I have a board meeting in two days with my biggest donors and this place has descended into madness.”

  She glared at us as if we’d been responsible for the deaths. She took a menacing step toward me, her finger pointed at my nose.

  “This is unacceptable,” she growled, her finger jabbing the air, dangerously close to my eyes. “First my gardener, then my PE teacher, and now my cook. Even my computers are failing me!” she shrieked.

  Trust Martha May to bring everything back to her, even the deaths of her staff. She’d also forgotten that technically, Jayden had no longer been employed by her when he died. But I bit my tongue.

  “It’s a terrible thing, Martha, but we need to resolve this calmly and logically,” said Katy, in the same voice she used on Chantelle when she wanted her to stop her childish hysterics.

  Martha slapped a hand on her forehead like this was all too much. Gone was the confident, self-assured head of the school. She started pacing the corridor, her heels clicking furiously on the hardwood floor.

  “This is the end of everything I’ve worked for. If the media gets a wind of this, my school is done for. Three deaths, one after the other. What is wrong with these people?”

  When she looked up, I was surprised to see tears welled in her eyes. I didn’t think this woman had it in her to cry.

  “What do I tell the board?” she said. “Do something. Help me.”

  “That’s exactly what we plan to do,” I said. “Tell me, who was in the kitchen when you walked in just now?”

  Martha stopped pacing. Her eyes darted back and forth like she was trying to remember.

  “I was so horrified to see Cathy on the floor, I didn’t…. I don’t really recall….”

  “Did Cathy have any enemies?”

  I wanted to add other than yourself, but I swallowed that last bit. For the moment, I wanted her to think we were still playing investigators for her.

  “No, of course not.” She paused.

  “I mean, she was always asking for more. I liked her cooking, but I couldn’t afford to pay her….” She stopped and stared at me. “No, I think everyone in this school liked that woman, except for…” She trailed off and looked away.