“I did give them my schedule for this morning. Unfortunately—” she hesitated “—that won’t let me off the hook, unless Doug Norris was killed way earlier this morning. The problem is, I ended up with a break at about ten-thirty, when a mother I was to meet with wasn’t home.”
Her supervisor got an odd expression on her face. “You don’t think there’s any chance that woman, too, is…?”
It took Lindsay longer than it should have to understand. Sadie wondered whether the woman she’d had the appointment to meet with had been murdered. “Oh, dear God.” She closed her eyes. “No, I can’t imagine. Her son has had some bruises, but nothing that awful. I’m thinking the family might need counseling…but maybe I should ask the detectives to do a, um, welfare check on the woman.”
“Have you tried calling her?”
“I did at the time and got voice mail, but I’ll call her again right now.” Her hands were actually trembling when she took out her phone.
A woman answered immediately. “Oh, is this Ms. Engle? I’m so, so sorry I didn’t call to let you know I had to rush into work.”
Jennifer James was a hairdresser.
“Mrs. James, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the concerns that led to Child Protective Services being called in. You do realize we’re authorized to remove children from their home if we believe them to be in danger.”
Across the desk from her, Sadie let out a whoosh of air. Lindsay shared her relief, although her annoyance almost drowned it out.
Mrs. James expressed anger at the tattletale school nurse but also agreed to meet with Lindsay the next day.
Lindsay ended the call. “Well, she’s alive.”
Sadie leaned forward. “What can I do to help?”
“I can’t think of anything at the moment, except to express faith in my mental health if either of the detectives shows up to talk to you.” She made a face. “I think I need to take an hour of personal time right now, though, to find myself an attorney.”
“Of course.” Sadie stood and came around the desk, reaching out a hand to squeeze Lindsay’s. “I can just imagine what Glenn would have to say about this.”
Lindsay knew exactly what Glenn would say. Loudly. Probably to the police chief. “Let’s not tell him yet, okay?” she suggested.
Sadie mimed zipping her mouth.
Lindsay produced something like a smile and headed back to her desk. She’d wait until she was in her car to do a search for attorneys and make her calls. Her fellow caseworkers did not need to know she was a suspect in a murder investigation.
Once she reached her car, she had to start it and turn on the air-conditioning to combat the August heat.
Maybe, she thought, as she flipped pages until she found “Attorneys—Criminal Law,” whatever lawyer took her on would advise her not to speak to either detective at all. The burning in her chest told her how glad she’d be never to set eyes on Daniel Deperro again.
Chapter Five
When Lieutenant Matson walked out of his office the following morning, his gaze locked on Daniel. It didn’t waver as he stalked across the bull pen, ignoring support staff and the only other detective present.
Uh-oh.
Daniel leaned back in his chair and waited.
The lieutenant came to a stop in front of Daniel’s desk and crossed his arms. “Seriously? You’ve named a CPS worker as a suspect in two murders?”
Did he sound plaintive or annoyed? Daniel couldn’t quite decide.
“We—” He cleared his throat. He had to leave Melinda out of this one. “I didn’t go that far. All I did was ask Ms. Engle for her whereabouts around the time of the murder.”
Middle-aged, Matson was softening around the waist but still formidable. “And do you have any real connection between her and these murders?”
“She’s the caseworker involved with both families. Plus, these murders are to all appearances expressing rage at the abusers. In neither instance do the children have any family defending them, far less expressing anger. I questioned Ms. Engle after Martin Ramsey’s murder but didn’t take her seriously as a suspect. After the second murder…how can I not? Who else has reason to feel that kind of hate for two men who likely didn’t even know each other?”
“Her supervisor is not happy. She feels we’re endangering any future of interagency cooperation.”
That was a load of crap, and Lieutenant Matson had to know it. Nonetheless, Daniel said, “You can assure her we’re doing our best to eliminate Ms. Engle as a suspect as quickly as possible.”
“Are we succeeding?”
“Unfortunately, she had a break in her schedule that would fit into the current estimate of time of death. I just reached the woman Ms. Engle was to have met with. This Mrs.—” he glanced down at his notes “—James says she had to rush into work and didn’t think to let Ms. Engle know she wouldn’t be home.”
“Ms. Engle couldn’t have counted on having any time.”
“That does argue against her being the perp. Still, if she planned to go after Norris later, she could have decided to seize the chance.”
Matson scowled, said, “Keep me informed,” and walked away.
Everyone around them managed to look really busy.
THE ATTORNEY LINDSAY had decided on, Jeff Eimen, did indeed instruct her to refuse to meet with either detective without him sitting in. She had thanked him and paid a retainer.
Because she was a murder suspect.
You never knew what kind of new life experience might come along.
She decided to work from home for the rest of the day, making follow-up calls and reviewing files. Why not? That’s what she did several evenings a week anyway.
Sometimes she felt as if she was drowning, but if she slowed down, a child somewhere would suffer. It was reality that abused or neglected children occasionally fell through the cracks. A caseworker left the job, another one replaced her but was somehow never given that particular file. Or a caseworker got involved in something messy and time-consuming, as with the Kelley girls, and assumed lower priorities could wait. She could be fooled by a seemingly sincere parent, misread a situation. The possibilities for disaster were endless, and ever-present. What if Shane hadn’t survived the beating his uncle gave him, for example? How would she have lived with that?
Lindsay made herself push back from the desk in her home office and go to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee and think about what she could make for dinner. That part didn’t take long; a microwaveable meal it was.
She used to enjoy cooking. That was just one of many small pleasures and hobbies that had gone by the wayside over the past few years. She couldn’t help wishing sometimes that she hadn’t jumped onto the hamster wheel that was CPS, except she was always aware how urgently the job needed to be done.
Sighing, she took the fresh cup of coffee back to her desk. Her phone rang as she was sitting down. Since she recognized the number, she didn’t answer. To hell with Detective Daniel Deperro.
The second time he called, she was on the phone with the grandfather of a child living with a drug addict mother. Deperro hadn’t left a message the first time. She waited to see if he would this time.
Nope.
Five minutes later, her phone rang again and his number came up. Gritting her teeth, Lindsay answered coolly, “Detective.”
“You’ve been ignoring me.”
“Astonishingly enough, I haven’t been sitting here playing computer games and waiting for you to call. I’m busy, Detective.”
“I need to talk to you again,” he said brusquely.
Annoyed to have his deep voice awaken a small thrill inside her, Lindsay said as distantly as possible, “I’ll have to look at my schedule and coordinate with my attorney to find a possible time.”
The ensuing pool of silence gratified her.
; “Who’d you hire?”
“Jeff Eimen of Eimen and Sloan.”
“Huh.”
“You thought I was bluffing?”
“I hoped,” he admitted. “You’re making this more complicated than it has to be. For obvious reasons, I need to clear you. I’m not hounding you for the fun of it.”
“Really? You could have fooled me.” She let out a huff of air. This was pointless. “What I think, Detective, is that you tend to jump to quick conclusions. I’m right in front of you, so it’s got to be me.” She paused. “Now, if you want to suggest some times that would work for you, I’ll call Mr. Eimen and run them by him.”
“You were…good enough to cooperate today and provide us with your schedule. I need some clarification, that’s all.”
Even as she weakened, she knew she’d be a fool to believe that.
“I suppose you want to know what I did with the hour I should have spent with Jennifer James.”
“That’s one question,” he agreed.
She closed her eyes and kneaded the painfully tight muscles in her neck. “I bought a chilled latte and a scone—orange-cranberry, if that matters—at the drive-through coffee place two blocks from the library. I then went to the city park by the Boys & Girls Club. I found a bench in the shade and ate my scone. To my current regret, I didn’t see a soul.”
“Did you receive or make any phone calls during that hour?”
“That’s two questions, Detective Deperro. This is your last. I ignored several calls that weren’t urgent, and I didn’t call anyone. I enjoyed a slight breeze and meditated.” The pain pinging up her neck hadn’t relented. “Good bye, Detective.”
“Wait!”
She ended the connection with her right thumb, then sat tensely waiting for him to call again.
He didn’t. Not that he was done with her, of course.
“DAMN WOMAN,” DANIEL GROWLED.
“I can guess who you’re talking about.”
Startled, he looked up. Once again he hadn’t noticed Melinda’s approach. Lindsay Engle was distracting, and more.
Jump to quick conclusions. That really had him stewing.
He told his partner how Lindsay claimed to have filled the hour she’d unexpectedly been given.
“We can check with the coffee kiosk,” Melinda said thoughtfully. “Maybe find out who was patrolling that part of town this morning. He might have noticed her car, especially if it was the only one in the parking lot.”
“Yeah. We can do that.”
She perched on the edge of his desk, one foot braced on the floor, the other dangling. “What’s wrong?”
“Has it occurred to you that she might be a target of the killer? Either he’s trying to get her in trouble…or he thinks he’s doing her a favor and she’ll be thrilled.”
Melinda frowned at him. “That’s a leap considering she’s a link between only two murders.”
The chair squeaked as he leaned back, raising his eyebrows. “Only?”
She frowned. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, and you’re right. Her name coming up in both investigations really could be coincidental. I looked over the past few months to see what child abuse cases CPS has needed to involve us or the sheriff’s department in.”
“And?”
“Five, and three of them weren’t anywhere near as horrific as the beating Shane Ramsey took or the sexual molestation of the Kelley girls.”
He’d felt some relief at learning that. The odds were eight to one that the next really nasty case would be handled by a different caseworker. Nine to one if the supervisor directly handled investigations as well as managed the caseworkers.
He twitched at having to acknowledge how much he didn’t want Lindsay to be a part of this.
“You expect more murders,” Melinda said.
“I don’t think this killer will stop. Do you?”
She pressed her lips together but finally said, “No.”
“Unless we catch him.”
“Does the lieutenant know what you think?”
“He hasn’t asked, but he’s not stupid.”
They looked at each other for a minute. Finally, she said, “I’ve only been involved in a couple of murder investigations. One was a stabbing during a tavern brawl and the other a domestic. Not exactly mysteries. I’m not sure what to do next,” she admitted, with a frankness that surprised him. Melinda hadn’t made it to detective in the face of bias by displaying any uncertainty.
Daniel knew she’d just given him her version of a compliment.
“We need to continue investigating the people around each victim. One of the two killings could have been committed as a way to muddy the waters.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, Melinda tried to hide a shudder.
“That’s kind of drastic.”
“It is, but it’s happened.”
“You’re saying the fires were just a trick,” she said.
“A not-so subtle way to convince us we have a single killer who has an agenda that’s related to the abuse allegations.”
“When really one of the two victims was murdered for an entirely different reason.”
“It’s conceivable.”
Melinda hesitated. “Do you really believe that?”
He told her the truth. “No. Especially given the question of how this killer knew about both abuse allegations and so quickly. My gut says we need to quietly look at the other CPS caseworkers, indignant supervisor included.”
“Burnout,” she said slowly.
“And maybe someone who doesn’t like Lindsay Engle.”
“Or likes her a lot.”
He wasn’t happy with either scenario.
LINDSAY DIDN’T HEAR a peep from the detectives over the following several days. Rather than reassuring her, the quiet made her more nervous. It felt like the eye of a hurricane.
She decided, for once, to take the weekend off. Truthfully, she’d rather not be assigned any more investigations for the time being. If something awful came in, Sadie could give it to someone else. Just in case the abuser was murdered, that would ensure the cops knew she didn’t have anything to do with the killings.
Still…it was strange that she was the caseworker in both instances.
The first question to ask was why Sadie had chosen her to talk to Kaila Kelley, when she was still tied up with Shane’s case.
Because I’m a woman, she reminded herself, but she knew that wasn’t all. Since Glenn’s retirement, their office had only three male caseworkers, five female, six counting Sadie.
Two of the female caseworkers were newbies. The others… In her heart of hearts, Lindsay knew she was the best. The most perceptive, the most patient, most skilled at dealing with all parties, from the endangered child to the abuser and any other family members. She was also one of the most experienced.
Hey, growing up in a succession of foster homes had taught her plenty.
If Sadie did prefer her, well, it wasn’t like getting gold stickers on her paperwork or being trusted to run errands to the principal’s office. No, it meant her getting assigned to the most shocking cases.
She knew what she had to do now: refuse any new assignments. Sadie would understand her reasoning. Lindsay had plenty to keep her occupied for a few weeks, at least. And think how wonderful it would be to catch up. That wouldn’t last, of course, but just once, she’d like to come home at the end of a workday and be able to take the evening off without guilt. Or even put in for vacation! The last one had been three whole days so she could attend her college roommate’s wedding two years ago.
So she’d enjoy this weekend, even if it was already Saturday morning. Go somewhere overnight. Drive to the coast, maybe? After enduring two months of central Oregon’s usual summer heat, it would be bliss to walk on a rocky beach in t
he fog and mist. More blissful if she had someone to walk with, but she couldn’t get greedy. After all, her last date had been with…
She couldn’t even remember his name. A firefighter, who’d had to cut their evening short for a callout. A forest fire, not a home fire, she remembered. A lightning strike had ignited it, and people had been evacuated from rural north county. Every local fire department had fought that one. He’d promised to call her when life was back to normal, but never had. She’d only vaguely noticed, because it turned out they had nothing in common except some sexual sizzle that burned out, on her part, after listening to him brag about his hunting prowess for forty-five minutes.
Come to think of it, the long drive to the coast didn’t sound all that appealing. So maybe she’d go up to Mt. Hood. There were a lot of bed-and-breakfasts in the area, she knew. Surely she could find a vacancy.
Decided, she started throwing a couple of changes of clothes into a small suitcase. She’d added toiletries and pulled the suitcase to the small entry when her doorbell rang. She hesitated, between one blink of the eye and the next seeing Martin’s body lying on the kitchen floor.
For heaven’s sake, it was midday and there must be neighbors out gardening, kids riding bikes. The spurt of fear was an overreaction.
A fist rapped hard on the door.
Really?
She swung it open to find Daniel Deperro on her doorstep.
DANIEL ANTICIPATED LINDSAY’S REACTION. If she’d let him speak, he’d explain. But she didn’t.
Eyes narrowing, she snapped, “Since my attorney didn’t happen to drop by for breakfast this morning, you need to leave.” She tried to shut the front door in Daniel’s face.
He was too quick, inserting a booted foot. “Damn it, will you give me a minute?”
“I’ll report you to your captain. This is harassment.” She glared at him. “Or are you prepared to arrest me?”
The heightened color in her cheeks made her even more beautiful. Appealing. Unfortunately, anger was responsible for the warmth tinting her cheekbones, not arousal or shyness.
The Hunting Season Page 6