by B. T. Lord
She wiped her eyes and looked up at Tim. “Have you heard anything at all that might make you think one of the guys is Mallory’s baby daddy? Or maybe seeing them acting a little weird or out of character?”
“Nothing comes to mind. Everyone’s been acting pretty much the way they always act.”
DeeDee glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “Do you remember much about the bonfire?”
Tim hesitated, then shook his head. “Not really. I went a bit overboard with the beer. How about you?”
She shrugged. “I was feeling no pain myself. I do remember Mallory was happy. She was laughing and joking around. Then, all of a sudden, she got quiet and serious. Said she wanted to walk home to think.” She put her fingers in the air and made quotation marks around the word ‘think’.
Tim chuckled. “That I do remember. I thought she was being a bit pretentious. As usual.” He pulled DeeDee to him and nuzzled her neck. “I also remember pulling you behind a sand dune.”
They’d been so aroused, she’d almost disregarded her own rule of not having sex when the others were around to avoid being discovered. It had taken all her fortitude to stop the heated fondling.
Suddenly, she remembered how glad she’d been when, deciding to leave the bonfire earlier than usual, Mallory turned down their offer to take her home. That had allowed them to park in a secluded spot further down the beach and finish what they’d started behind the sand dune – a fact that she’d deliberately kept from the deputy. The enormity of that feeling, especially in light of what happened to Mallory, crashed down upon her shoulders. Stepping back, she abruptly pushed Tim away.
“Let’s go home. I’m tired.”
They took a few steps towards Tim’s truck when DeeDee stopped. “Shit, what if the killer knows the deputy spoke to me?”
“Then he’s going to have to kill all of us, including our parents. We were all interviewed. I don’t think the murderer is going to want to call attention to himself by killing over a dozen people.”
She let out her breath. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“Dee, you’re going to be fine. I’m willing to bet that Mal was talking to Dr. Rhys. As long as the doctor didn’t confirm she was pregnant, she could pretend it wasn’t happening. But as soon as she went to him, and he confirmed she was preggers, all bets were off. Now she had to deal with it. That’s why she was quiet. She couldn’t deny it anymore.”
“Then why was she so happy the night of the bonfire?”
“Maybe she’d come to terms with it. Maybe the baby daddy was going to marry her. Maybe she was going to the mainland to – you know.”
“Or maybe the baby daddy made her believe everything was going to be alright so he could lure her away and kill her.”
Tim started to criticize her need to over-dramatize everything, only to pull back at the last minute. Instead, he said, “If you’re still scared in the morning, call the deputy and see what he says. He’s the professional. If he thinks you’re in danger, I’m sure he’ll do something about it. If not, then stop working yourself up into a heart attack.” Reaching his truck, he pushed her gently up against the hood and kissed her throat. “In the meantime, I think I know a way to help you get relaxed.”
“Jeez, you’re such a guy,” she guffawed. But after a few moments of ardent kissing, she realized this was the perfect way to chill out. If only for a little while.
The pot pie was delicious. Since it was the off season and the hotel was empty of guests, Chandra had nothing to hurry back to. Her Boston Terrier Beans was no doubt snoring away in his little bed she’d placed in front of her wood stove. It was his favorite spot during the cold months, and nothing short of dynamite could dislodge him from the warmth thrown off by the burning wood.
She and Ellis were now seated in his living room, each sipping a cup of chai tea and discussing the case.
“I don’t suppose you can look into your crystal ball and tell me who the killer is?” he teased.
She sniffed. “First of all, crystal balls are cliché. I wouldn’t be caught dead using one. Second of all, I told you. I only see what I’m meant to see. And obviously I’m not meant to see who killed that young girl, which believe me, isn’t a bad thing.” She shuddered. “The last thing I need haunting my dreams is the sight of her face sewn up. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you there’s a clue in there.”
“I agree. All that comes to mind is that she may have seen something she wasn’t supposed to see and talked about it.”
“Do you think it might have had to do with her pregnancy?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do her parents know?”
He nodded. “I broke the news to Frank Angleton as soon as Dr. Rhys informed me. As you can imagine, he didn’t take it well.”
“What’s next?”
“I’m going back to Eagla tomorrow. Two of Mallory’s friends were out fishing yesterday. I need to question them.”
She took a sip of her tea. “You know, there have been all sorts of crazy rumors circulating about Dara’s family for as long as I can remember.”
“Do you recall any?”
“I know some of them were outrageous, and many may even be apocryphal. For example, there was the story of a fisherman who was returning late one night from a day out on his boat when he noticed a campfire burning on shore. When he rowed in closer to take a look, he recognized one of the Clemons ladies dancing all alone around the fire. She suddenly stopped and even though it was dark, she seemed to know he was out there. Realizing she was being watched, she disappeared into thin air. Then there were the stories that they had the ability to curse livestock, or make it hail to destroy crops.”
“Sounds like something out of the Salem Witch Trials.”
“Pretty much.”
“Your family was smart to downplay your abilities.”
“We went out of our way to make sure that whatever magic we performed was always done in light and love. We never cursed anyone or anything. The Clemons, however, gained a reputation for dabbling in black magic.”
“Do you think that’s true?”
Chandra shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I remember my Granny once telling me that, for a price, the Clemons would do anything. Cast whatever spell was necessary, regardless of whether it was black or white magic. It’s no wonder fear and superstition grew up around them over the years. Now that legacy has fallen on poor Dara’s shoulders.” She looked at Ellis. “She certainly didn’t seem evil to you, did she?”
“On the contrary.”
“What was your opinion of her?”
“Someone who is misunderstood. Eagla’s lonely oddball.”
“It’s a difficult life being a non-conformist on a small island. You could get away with that in a large city, but not out here. Anything even mildly out of the norm stands out like a beacon.”
She stood up, went into the kitchen and rinsed out her teacup. Throwing on her coat, she gathered up the empty casserole pan and headed towards the door. “I’d better get back and throw another log into the wood stove. If there’s one thing Beans hates during these months, it’s being unnecessarily cold. And believe me, that little guy has a very stinky way of demonstrating his displeasure.” She walked to the front door and paused. “By the way, be sure to leave extra early tomorrow morning if you’re still intent on going to Eagla. There’s a bad squall expected to blow in and you’ll want to make sure you’re not out on the open seas when it hits.”
“Is it your psychic ability telling you that?”
She raised an amused eyebrow. “I’m very powerful, don’t you know that? I use something called the weather report. It’s very potent magic.”
After she left, Ellis took out his computer. He’d gotten into the habit long ago of jotting down theories and leads so he could look at them later, and arrange the pieces in some sort of order to interpret any patterns, or catch something he might have missed.
He quickly typed out the results of his interviews with M
allory’s friends. When he got to Dara, he summarized the part of his visit that pertained to the investigation. However, when it came time to document the reading, his hands hovered above the keyboard before he ultimately decided not to write it up. What Dara said had nothing to do with Mallory’s death. The incident with Patrick would remain private – locked away in his soul where it belonged.
He was just finishing up when his cell rang. Looking at the display, he saw it was the Medical Examiner’s office.
“Deputy Martin,” he answered.
“Rob here. Glad to see you’re still up.”
“Finishing up documenting the interviews I did today.”
“I just completed the autopsy on your victim.”
“Anything interesting?”
“You might say that. I uncovered the reason for the lack of defensive wounds on her hands and arms. There was a large quantity of sedatives in her system. Enough to knock out Arnold Schwarzenegger.”
“Is that what killed her?”
“No. But it incapacitated her enough for the killer to do whatever he wanted without her putting up any resistance.”
“Please don’t tell me she was thrown into the pond while she was still alive.”
“You can rest easy. There was no water in the lungs, so she was dead when she was tossed overboard.”
“What’s the time of death?”
“I’d say she was killed between midnight and four in the morning.”
“So if she didn’t drown and the sedatives didn’t kill her, what did?”
“Ah. That’s the cherry on top. Your victim died of an air embolism.” Ellis frowned as Rob continued. “I don’t come across this very often, but it is a viable way to kill. As recently as 2014, a Belgian nurse turned ordained pastor euthanized dozens of elderly people by injecting air into their blood.”
“How does that work?”
“When one or more air bubbles enters the vascular system through a vein or artery, it causes a blockage. The bubbles can travel to the heart, brain or lungs and result in a stroke, respiratory failure or heart attack.”
“How did Mallory die?”
“Hers was a heart attack brought on by the air embolism.”
“What about the injuries to her eyes and mouth?” he asked.
“Thankfully those were post-mortem.”
“The sedative you mentioned? Can it be traced?”
“To at least every pharmacy up and down the eastern seaboard. It’s an over the counter brand. Her stomach contents, however, made for fascinating analysis. I found undigested bits of loose tea leaves in her stomach. Peppermint to be exact. I hypothesize the killer used the tea to administer the sedative to our victim. Upon drinking said tea, she would have quickly lost consciousness, after which the killer was then able to inject the air into her veins, and the rest is history. Unfortunately, once she was placed in the water, any evidence of where the dastardly deed was performed was probably washed away.”
“Rob, what are the chances that an air bubble would do what you described?”
“Use a big enough syringe, you’ve got a pretty good chance of causing death.”
“Jesus,” Ellis whispered under his breath.
“It’s a perfect no fuss no muss way of offing someone,” Rob replied. “All you need is air, a syringe and a basic knowledge of how to inject into a vein.”
“And a sedative.”
“Yes. And a sedative. The item used to sew her eyes and mouth was indeed commercial fishing line, which is really going to narrow things down for you on an island inhabited by fishermen.”
“Great.” Ellis paused, then asked, “We’re going on the assumption that the killer was male. What are your thoughts about the killer possibly being a female?”
“It wouldn’t have taken any strength to make a cup of tea and knock the young woman unconscious, then inject air into her veins. However, you have to figure she probably wasn’t served the tea on a rowboat. Nor was the disfigurement to her eyes and mouth done on a rocking rowboat either. The sewing was quite even and precise. So wherever she was sedated, the killer would have had to at least haul her into a car, drive her out to the pond, drag her limp body into a boat, row her out to the middle of the water, probably at night to make sure there were no witnesses, then roll her off the rowboat, which is no easy task when you’re dealing with an inert body. Mallory weighed 120 pounds. An average sized man probably wouldn’t have had much trouble maneuvering her unconscious body. A woman with strength training probably wouldn’t have had too much of an issue either. However, I spoke to Ana earlier and they found no drag marks anywhere on the beach, or in the surrounding area.”
“So she was carried from Point A – some sort of vehicle – to Point B – the boat.”
“I’d say that’s the most likely scenario.”
“What’s your gut feeling on this, Rob? We have a pregnant young woman who was murdered by an air bubble, and had her mouth and eyes sewn shut.”
There was a long pause on the other end. Then Rob heaved a heavy sigh. “Damn you, Martin. You ruined my surprise. I was saving the part about her pregnancy as the pièce de rèsistance. You really know how to screw up the moment.”
Ellis laughed. “Sorry about that. I ran into the island’s doctor this afternoon who told me.”
“Well, I suppose I can let it go this time.”
“I appreciate that.”
“In answer to your question, my wonderfully healthy gut tells me that, despite her pregnancy, Mallory Angleton was in the bloom of youth. She was a beautiful woman with sophisticated tastes in clothes. Even her underwear was of the highest quality. After visiting your godforsaken islands one too many times for my taste, it isn’t hard to notice there aren’t many prospects for a young woman like that. Nor for a young man, unless he wants to kill himself hauling fish out of the sea for the rest of his life. I doubt the pregnancy was planned. Therefore, it could be a simple case of a father not wanting to be a father.”
“But why sew up her eyes and mouth?”
“That was done by someone who was angry with her. Maybe she was a gossip. Maybe she saw something she wasn’t supposed to see. Or maybe it was a reflection of who she really was. Thank God, that’s your job to figure all that out. I’ll email you a copy of my report. By the way, as I was finishing up, one of the IT guys stopped by. He says they should be done in a few days on the analysis on her computer. Turns out her password wasn’t hard to decrypt.”
“Was it the name of one of her friends?”
“Too mundane for this young lady. It was ‘Louis Vuitton’. Gotta run. Starting a late-night Chinese cooking class geared specifically for insomniacs. I don’t want to be late.”
Ellis hung up and remained thoughtful for a few moments. Rob’s remark regarding the injuries to Mallory’s face possibly being a reflection of who she truly was struck a chord with him. He’d caught glimpses of it that day, in words and emotions not expressed, but hinted at. It was a theory definitely worth pursuing in the days ahead.
DeeDee Reid was back walking along the beach. Tim had gone home, and she was alone. It was night, but the full moon threw off enough light that she could see exactly where she was going.
She didn’t know why, but she felt awkward as she strode just out of reach of the surf rolling up over the sand. Her body felt out of sorts, as if she was having trouble inhabiting her own skin. Maybe she was coming down with something that had her feeling so discombobulated. She wouldn’t be surprised. It had been an incredibly tense-filled day, and stress always made her vulnerable to colds and sinus infections.
A cold breeze blew against her, sending shivers up and down her spine. She looked behind her at the expanse of moonlit beach. She wasn’t sure why, but she had the overwhelming feeling that she needed to be careful. Not only about her safety, but about being seen. It was imperative she not call any attention to herself.
Looking up towards the road, she realized she stood a better chance of blending into her surr
oundings if she walked within the shadows cast by the sand dunes rather than out on the open.
Turning up towards the dunes, she twisted her head and caught sight of the distant lights from the houses twinkling in the night air. Thankfully, the night was too cold for any of the residents to be out. Which suited her perfectly.
She reached the last of the sand dunes and moved towards the road. It was then she noticed how unusually heavy and loud her footsteps sounded.
I must really be coming down with something. I can barely move my legs and feet.
Shaking her head at the strangeness of it all, she began the long walk towards her house. Along the way, her mind filled with thoughts of Mallory and Tim and everything that had led up to this moment in her life. The countless sacrifices she’d made, the constant disregard for her own wants and needs, the painful compromises. She grappled with the question of whether it had all been worth it. Where had it gotten her?
Fearing for her life, that’s where it had gotten her. Somebody out to kill her over something she’d known nothing about. She wanted to stand on every street corner on Eagla and scream that she didn’t know who fathered Mallory’s damned baby. She’d had no part in it. Her own best friend hadn’t even trusted her enough to tell her she was pregnant in the first place, much less who was the sperm donor was.
Was that worth dying over?
Consumed by all these thoughts running through her head, DeeDee was surprised when she suddenly found herself standing in her backyard.
That’s weird. How did I get here so fast? Jeez, I must have been so wrapped up in my head, I didn’t notice how far I’d walked.
Turning towards the house, she saw her bedroom window facing her. Unlike her parents who slept upstairs, she preferred having her room on the first floor. It provided her with enough privacy to sneak Tim in after everyone had gone to bed and steal a couple of hours together in her bed.