To Die For

by C. M. Sutter

  I glanced at my watch. It was closing in on one o’clock. “How long does it take Mr. Harper to get home from work? Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, but Eileen said he always took traffic into account.”

  “Were there any problems in the marriage that you knew of? Eileen would have told you, being twins and all, right?”

  Dorrie nodded. “No problems that she ever mentioned. They’ve been married for ten years and seemed perfectly happy.”

  I patted the headrest in front of me. “One last thing. I need you to write down your phone number and address on the back of my card.” I handed her two. “Keep the second one for yourself.” When she had finished, I thanked her and opened the door. “We’ll be in touch. For now, I’d suggest going home and resting.” I climbed out and held open the door. “Let me walk you to your car.”

  Chapter 3

  The gravel crunched under Paul Harper’s tires as he continued on after removing the chain barricade that led into Chicago’s abandoned grain silos. He pulled around to the back, where his car wouldn’t be seen by anyone other than the men who’d instructed him to wait there. He chewed nervously on his cuticles as he stared out the windshield and saw brown dust swirl several hundred feet in front of his car. Seconds later, he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. A black sedan rounded the farthest building and headed toward him, stopping twenty feet from his front bumper. Two masked men stepped out and walked toward him, one with a gun drawn and the other carrying a tablet.

  Paul took in a nervous breath and popped the door lock when the man with the tablet pulled on the passenger-side handle. The second man stood at the driver’s window with the gun pointed at Paul’s head.

  Inside the car, the stranger that Paul knew only through his phone threats adjusted himself in the seat until he seemed comfortable. The second man hiding his identity behind the black stocking mask tapped the barrel of his gun against the glass.

  “Open the window.”

  Paul did as he was told.

  The man in the passenger seat turned to Paul and pressed the play button on a video he had downloaded to the tablet. “See what happens, Paul, when you don’t take our demands seriously.” He turned the tablet toward Paul and forced him to watch as the horrific scene in his own kitchen played out before him.

  “Now you know we’re serious, right? Your wife would be alive and well if you had complied with our request. I assure you, Mr. Harper, we aren’t the kind of people that you want to mess with. We have a very long and lethal reach.”

  Screaming in anguish, Paul pounded the steering wheel and cried.

  “This could have been avoided, so you have nobody to blame but yourself. I doubt if you want us to pick up your three kids from school. Am I correct?”

  Paul nodded.

  The man’s stained teeth were exposed through the mouth opening in his mask as the man outside grinned. “It looks like we’re getting through to him. We know where you work. That’s apparent. We know where you live, another obvious fact, and we definitely know where your kids go to school. It’ll only take a minute for those kids to disappear, and you’ll turn back into the man you were ten years ago—no wife and no kids. Do you feel me, Paul?”

  Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Paul mustered another weak nod.

  “Good. What are the codes to enter the pharmacy?”

  “But the cops will know it was me.”

  “There are a dozen other people who work in the pharmacy, and they’ll have to question them too. Now the codes and your badge or your kids are next.”

  Paul rattled off the double set of six-digit numbers and pulled his ID badge from his pocket.

  “Smart man, and your badge is our insurance. How many cameras are there in the back lot and inside the rear entrance to the pharmacy?”

  “There’s a camera above the outer door and another inside at the pharmacy entrance.”

  “Anything else you want to add or change? This is your one and only chance. If we happen upon any snags, your kids are as good as dead.”

  Paul buried his face in his hands. “Everything is correct.”

  “Good, then you’ll find your badge in the brush behind the building tomorrow, but that’s only if everything goes without a hitch. I suggest you get there and retrieve it before the employees show up and call the cops. Once they arrive, they’ll search through the bushes and definitely find it. Now go home, do your duty as the hysterical husband while you talk to the cops, and don’t say anything you’ll regret later. The lives of your kids depend on your silence, and let me remind you, we have people watching your house and the school.” The man inside Paul’s car opened the door and climbed out, and the second man walked to the vehicle they had driven up in.

  Leaning in before closing the passenger door, the man gave Paul a warning before walking off. “Go home, do what you’re supposed to do, and pray you don’t hear from us again.”

  The men climbed back into their vehicle, circled around Paul’s car, and sped away.

  Chapter 4

  Tires screeched to a stop, and I looked over my shoulder. I nudged Frank. “That has to be the husband.” I waved to get Tillson’s attention. “What did you say to Mr. Harper when you called him?”

  “I said there was an emergency and he needed to come home right away. Nothing else.”

  “And the time he was contacted?”

  Tillson checked his notepad. “I made the call at nine minutes after twelve.”

  I pushed up my sleeve. It was almost one thirty. “Okay, thanks.” I waited until Tillson had walked away before talking again. My mind was calculating the time of day and traffic flow. “We need to find out the driving time from the husband’s workplace to home. Taking more than an hour to get here seems too long.”

  Frank agreed.

  When Mr. Harper leapt from his car and crossed the lawn, we acted as barricades.

  “What the hell is going on at my house? Where’s my wife, Eileen?”

  Yelling out her name, he tried to force his way past us as he charged up the sidewalk. I grabbed him by the arm and stopped him in his tracks. A quick glance over my shoulder guaranteed he wouldn’t get inside the house. Two officers with thick arms crossed over their chests stood in the doorway, making it nearly impossible for anyone to muscle their way through.

  “Mr. Harper?”

  He jerked out of my grasp. “Yeah, that’s me, and who the hell are you? Where’s my wife, and why are the police here?”

  “Let’s sit in my cruiser and talk. I’m Detective McCord”—I pointed at Frank—“and he’s Detective Mills.”

  “Detectives? Why detectives?” He squeezed his temples. “Will somebody please explain what’s going on?”

  I tipped my head at the cruiser. “Have a seat in the back, and I’ll tell you what we know.”

  He cursed me as he climbed in. “Okay, I’m in the damn car, now tell me what happened here!”

  Frank gave me a concerned glance before I began. The husband was not only upset, but he came across as pissed off too.

  “Mr. Harper, your wife was discovered over an hour ago by her sister, Doreen.”

  “Discovered? What does that mean?”

  “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but Eileen is deceased.”

  “No! That’s impossible! I just saw her this morning before I left for work. Where is she? I have to see her!”

  “That’s not an option, sir. Our medical examiner and forensic team are in the house, and we can’t contaminate the scene. We’ll be able to tell you more about your wife’s injuries after the autopsy. Right now, we have questions for you.”

  He buried his face in his hands and cried.

  “Mr. Harper.”

  “What! You want to ask the typical bullshit questions, right? Is your marriage on the rocks, was one of you cheating, and were there financial problems? Close enough? The answer is no to all of it. Our marriage was fine. We have three kids under ten
for God’s sake.”

  “Where do you work, Mr. Harper?”

  His voice caught in his throat as he answered. “At the pharmacy in the CMS store on West Thirty-First Street.”

  “Why so far away? There are two CMS pharmacies within five blocks of here.”

  He groaned. “I’ve worked there for six years. I’m the daytime pharmacist, and there aren’t any openings at the ones down the street. We only bought this house four years ago. Before that, we lived closer to the pharmacy I work at.”

  I wrote that down while Frank continued. “Must be a shitty commute every day.”

  Paul shrugged. “I’m used to it. A half hour each way isn’t the end of the world.”

  I raised my brows. “A half hour? Really? Funny how an emergency slowed you down.” I rubbed my chin. “I’d think you’d get here in twenty minutes, but it took you over an hour to get home after our officer contacted you.” I cocked my head and locked eyes with him. “Care to explain that?”

  He stammered before answering. “Uh, um, I had to call in another pharmacist to cover for me and put away everything. I’m the only pharmacist there and can’t leave drugs lying around. The technician’s job is to give the bag to the customer and charge them, not to dispense medications. I also had to explain the delay to the people waiting in line for their prescriptions. It took some time, okay?”

  Frank cracked his neck. “We understand how it is, priorities and all.”

  Paul snarled. “Nobody told me my wife was dead.”

  I took over again and had a gut feeling that Mr. Harper knew something he wasn’t disclosing. He hadn’t even asked how his wife had died. I pressed harder. “So you arrived at work on time and remained there until you got the call from our officer?”

  “Of course, and feel free to check it out. I’m sure you will, anyway.”

  “Mr. Harper, is there a reason you’re agitated with us?”

  He looked away. “Do I need an attorney?”

  I was surprised at how quickly that came up and stared at him with a frown. “Only you would know that, sir.” I waited for a response but didn’t get one, so I continued. “Is there a place where you and your kids can stay for now? You won’t be able to go back in the house today.”

  “I’ll get a hotel room.”

  “Good. We’ll need to know where you’re at after you check in, so make sure you call me. Tomorrow, you’ll have to come to the station to make a formal statement, and then I’ll escort you to the morgue to identify your wife. In the next day or two, we’ll walk your house together to see if anything has been stolen.”

  “Was it a burglary?”

  “We don’t know that yet, hence the walkthrough, but we do need to know why Eileen was killed.” I gave him every opportunity to ask how she died, but he didn’t.

  “I have to get clothes for myself and the kids.”

  “I’ll have an officer gather some things and bring them out.” I handed him my card. “Call me when you get settled.” I gave him a glance. “I need your cell number.” He rattled it off, and I wrote it in my notepad. “I’d suggest picking up your kids from school and explaining what happened. They’ll want to know where their mom is.”

  “Like that’s going to be easy.”

  “There are counselors available to help children cope, Mr. Harper, and I’d take advantage of that if I were you.”

  He grumbled under his breath, but I couldn’t make out the words. I opened the cruiser’s back door and climbed out, allowing him to exit. Frank and I watched as he walked as far as he was permitted. Paul waited at the sidewalk for an officer to bring out the clothing.

  “What’s your take?” I asked after Paul was out of earshot.

  Frank huffed. “He’s mixed up in this somehow—one hundred percent.”

  I agreed. Mr. Harper had fifty minutes of unaccounted-for time and had made up an excuse for it, and the fact that he didn’t ask how his wife had died was an enormous red flag. My gut said he knew before he ever arrived at the house that his wife had been murdered, yet he’d played the confused and shocked husband to a T. It was our department’s job to find out why, and his workmates would be the first people we would ask.

  “I’m going to update Lutz, and then we’ll take a drive to the CMS store.”

  I listened as Lutz’s desk phone rang in my ear three times. He finally picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Commander Bob Lutz speaking.”

  “Bob, it’s Jesse.”

  “What’s the latest at the scene?”

  I scratched my chin. “It was a vicious murder, that’s for sure. Don is doing his field exam, and Forensics is processing the house. As far as we know, the wife was shot execution style, but that was likely the coup de grâce. A number of stab wounds was probably what it took to subdue her. From the way the kitchen looks, she fought for her life.”

  “Damn. Has the husband been interviewed yet?”

  I smirked as I answered. “There’s something going on with him.”

  “As in?”

  “The fact that he put on the role of the distraught husband for all of five minutes but never asked how his wife had died. It took him more than an hour to arrive at the house, and his workplace is a half hour away.”

  I listened to silence for ten seconds as Lutz’s wheels were likely turning.

  “What was his reason for the delay?”

  “A bunch of BS about having to call a substitute pharmacist, put away medications, and explain to the people standing in line why they’d have to wait until that other pharmacist arrived.”

  “And a tech couldn’t have done all that?”

  “Exactly. There’s collusion going on, and he’s up to his eyeballs in it. We just don’t know what role he played. Frank and I are heading to his workplace to speak with his colleagues.”

  “Okay, keep me posted.”

  “Roger that.” I clicked off the call, pocketed my phone, and tipped my head toward the cruiser. “Come on, partner. Let’s have a chat with those pharmacy employees.”

  Chapter 5

  I noted the time when Frank pulled away from the curb. “Let’s see how long it really takes to get to the pharmacy while going the speed limit in everyday traffic.”

  “Humph.”

  I gave Frank a side-eyed glance. “Use your words, pal.”

  “I just thought of something.”

  “Apparently.”

  Frank shot me the middle finger before continuing. “Pharmacists and technicians wear ID badges, don’t they?”

  I frowned as I tried to recall every time I’d stood in line and waited my turn at the counter. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure they do.”

  “Don’t those badges have bar codes on them that are scanned every time the employee comes and goes? If they do, then we could find out exactly when Paul clocked out.”

  “You’re right, and we’ll make sure to check into that.”

  We arrived at CMS on West Thirty-First Street thirty-four minutes later, and that was taking into account the two red lights we had to wait at. Frank parked in the customer’s lot, and we entered through the front door. A large overhead sign with an arrow directed us to the pharmacy at the back of the store. From patronizing CMS pharmacies over the years, I knew that the layout inside was nearly the same for all of them. Frank and I headed to the rear of the building. A consultation window was the farthest to the right, followed by a drop-off window. The pickup counter, which took up the largest amount of space, was directly in front of us. A steel door and a drive-up window were located at the outer wall. I elbowed Frank in the ribs when I saw a keypad with a swipe slot next to the door.

  In a whisper, I told him the employees probably had to enter a code and then swipe the bar codes on their badges. He nodded.

  We approached the consultation window and waited. It looked as if four employees were working there, each wearing a badge that was either clipped to a lab-coat pocket or hung from their neck on a lanyard. I pulled my own badge off my belt and
cleared my throat. A female technician looked toward me and said somebody would be with me shortly—meaning a ten-minute wait.

  “Excuse me.” I held up my badge and gave it a jiggle. “Chicago police and we need to speak to somebody now.”

  That same technician held up her hand then spoke to the man who was likely the pharmacist. He immediately headed our way.

  “Chicago PD? What can I do for you?”

  I took note of the badge clipped to his lab coat. His name, R. Vincent, along with his image, status, and a bar code, fit neatly on his three-by-four-inch plastic ID.

  “We’re Detectives McCord and Mills, and we need to have a word with each of Paul Harper’s coworkers.”

  “Um.” The pharmacist looked at the five customers waiting in line at the counter. “You can speak to them one at a time, correct?”

  Frank checked the man’s name. “That’s exactly how we intend to do it, Mr. Vincent.”

  “Sure. We have a small room at the end of the pharmacy.” He extended his arm out the consultation window and pointed to our right. “There’s a door down there that will take you back. Any person in particular you want to speak to first?”

  “Nope, as long as we speak to everyone.”

  “Okay, I’ll have Jennifer meet you at the door. You can talk to her first. She’s the newest hire here, and from what I’m told, she isn’t quite as fast as the other techs, anyway.”

  I nodded. “Appreciate it.”

  We walked the thirty feet to the door that stood between the pharmacy and the photography counter. Seconds later, the door opened, and a twentysomething brown-haired lady popped her head out.