by Laura Snider
Ashley placed her hands on her hips in feigned irritation. “What do you mean, Tom?”
“I mean, you became a college girl. Then a law school girl. Now, a lawyer girl. You’re far too good for an uneducated jailer.”
Ashley grunted. “First, I’m not a ‘girl’ anymore. I’m over thirty. That makes me a woman. Second, you could have gone to college, too.”
A sadness settled over Tom’s features. “Nah. I wasn’t smart enough. I’m a dumb jock, remember? Nobody expected me to go to college, so I didn’t. Besides, my parents didn’t have the money.”
Katie diverted her gaze. The sentiment was one she knew well. She had wanted to go to college. Even expected to go. But then her life went to shit, and it was not an option. She barely made it through high school.
Ashley placed a hand on top of Tom’s. “That’s not true. You were plenty smart. You still are. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Tom’s eyes widened at Ashley’s touch. He stared at their hands for a long moment, then his gaze slowly traveled up until their eyes locked. It was official. These two were into each other. Tom was more obvious about it, but the wine had loosened Ashley’s inhibitions. Katie welcomed the distraction from her depressing past. A smile even worked its way into the corners of Katie’s lips. She had misjudged Ashley. She was not mean or cruel; she was lonely. And maybe tonight would be the beginning of the end to that loneliness.
As Tom and Ashley focused more on one another, Katie’s mind drifted back to that letter. The list. (1) Von Reich, (2) You, (3) Petrovsky. It was a threat, but was it worth her putting the time in to track down the sender? Ashley was probably right. It was likely some punk kid that hated Von Reich and Petrovsky for obvious reasons and hated Ashley for helping them. Arnold’s murder was common knowledge, so crossing off Von Reich’s name didn’t mean the letter writer was also the killer.
Still, Katie had an ominous feeling. It gathered and formed, growing denser like a storm cloud moments before the lightning struck and thunder cracked. If the list was a hit list, there was a serial killer in Brine, and Ashley Montgomery was the next victim.
16
Katie
December 12th – 4:30 a.m.
Katie peered into the mirror. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she wore a cloud-white shirt tucked into a blue plaid skirt, her private school’s uniform. She was in the powder room near the main entrance, next to the formal living room. The ceiling towered high over her head.
Kaitlyn. Katie’s mother was the only person who ever used her full name.
Katie spun. Her mom was in the hallway, her heels click, click, clicking against the checkered marble tile. She pulled a rolling suitcase behind her, wheels so well oiled that they did not make a sound.
Where are you going? Katie asked.
I’m leaving. You’ll have to take care of yourself now.
I don’t know how to take care of myself.
You don’t have a choice. Your father is in jail. I dismissed the cook and housekeeper this morning. This house is going on the market.
Where will I live?
Don’t know. Don’t care. Try asking your father.
Katie was a disappointment to her mother. A tomboy born to a beauty queen. Her mother had tried to force her into pageant dresses and ballet classes when she was young, but Katie refused to perform, instead choosing to follow her father around in hero worship.
But Dad isn’t allowed visitors until Thursday.
Katie’s mother shrugged and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes, turning toward the door.
What about school?
Oh, honey. Katie’s mom turned to face her daughter for the last time. You are not going to that school anymore. You cannot afford it. Not that school or any other school. You will have to get a job. Probably full-time.
Why can’t I go with you?
Because Jordan does not like you. Jordan was the new boyfriend. A newly divorced doctor she had met at the country club. And quite frankly, neither do I.
Bzzzzz bzzzzz. What was that? A bee? She groaned and rolled over. Bzzzzz bzzzzz. The sound came again. No, maybe it was someone humming. But who was in the house, humming? Half asleep, she tried to ignore it. Bzzzzz bzzzzzz.
Katie’s eyes flew open. She was twenty-five again, thank God, lying on Ashley’s couch. Her cell phone sat on the hardwood floor next to her. The screen lit up as it buzzed and shook. She grabbed it and glanced at the caller ID before picking up.
“What’s wrong?” Katie asked.
Ashley had dimmed the living room lights, but Katie could clearly see the time displayed on the large grandfather clock in the hallway. It was 4:30 in the morning.
“There was another murder last night.”
“Who?”
“Victor Petrovsky.”
Katie hissed through her teeth. “When did it happen?”
“Midnight. It looks like Petrovsky had gone to Casey’s General Store down the street, bought a bottle of whiskey, and returned to an ambush. The store cameras at Casey’s have him checking out at eleven thirty p.m.”
“Who found the body?” Katie asked.
“Anonymous call. We tried to trace it, but that’ll take some time.”
“Any similarities to Von Reich’s murder?”
George blew out a heavy breath. “Loads of them. Both victims’ throats were slit with a non-serrated blade of approximately the same length and width. Both were caught off guard. There’s very little evidence at either scene. I think we’re looking for the same person.”
Katie’s mind returned to the letter left for Ashley. (1) Von Reich, (2)You, (3) Petrovsky. The third name could be crossed off. Ashley was the only one left.
Shit, shit, double shit, she thought.
George cleared his throat. “We were just beginning to get somewhere with the Von Reich investigation. Petrovsky was at the center of it all since his fingerprints were on that lighter. We needed to get a statement from him, but that won’t happen now.”
He had a point. Petrovsky could have told them who visited him at the jail. He might have cooperated, despite his dislike for cops, if for no other reason than to get himself off the potential suspect list.
“We’ll figure it out.” Katie tried to sound optimistic, but the effort was futile. It was a devastating turn of events.
Katie got up and scanned the room for her uniform. Ashley had offered her a T-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants to wear overnight. Katie had accepted gratefully. The fabric of her uniform was thick and unyielding. Designed for safety, not comfort.
She saw the familiar blue of her uniform folded carefully and stacked in a pile on a rocking chair in the corner of the room. The blue was the same hue as that of her high school uniform skirt. She had seemingly traded one uniform for another, one white collar and the other blue.
She had nearly killed herself working and attending her last two years of high school. She continued at the same school, thanks to an academic scholarship that she qualified for since she had turned low income overnight. But that did not cover her living expenses.
For those, she pawned a few small items that she had taken from the family home. A diamond-encrusted cross her father gave her for her first communion, a ruby ring given to her for her thirteenth birthday, silver candlesticks. It was all supposed to go to her father’s victims, for restitution. But she had taken them instead. It made her a thief, just like her father. A debt to repay. One she was still paying to society. It was the primary reason she entered and remained in public service.
“The chief wants us to meet him at the station,” George said, cutting through her thoughts. “The county attorney is coming too.”
“What? Why is Elizabeth Clement going to be there?”
The prosecutor was a micromanager when it came to her own staff, but she was rarely that involved with the police department. She might attend a meeting here or there during the normal workday, but this was her first appearance at a redeye meetin
g. It was a significant change. One that did not go unnoticed by either Katie or George.
“Apparently, she wants to talk to us.”
“Lucky us,” Katie said.
Now that Katie and Ashley’s friendship had solidified, Katie was not able to look at the prosecutor in the same light that she once had. Elizabeth was selfish and self-centered. Katie’s mind kept going back to that brief exchange she overheard between Elizabeth and her assistant, Violet. It proved that Elizabeth cared about her reelection, not about Brine or any of its residents.
“How long will it take you to get here?”
Katie’s eyes drifted to the balcony overlooking the living room. Ashley’s bedroom was the first door at the top of the stairs. It was closed with Finn and Princess lying just outside it.
She did not want to leave Ashley, especially since she was the only name on that list left living, but she did not think the meeting would take long. Besides, Tom was with Ashley. He would make sure that nothing happened to her.
“Give me thirty minutes. I’ll be there by 0500 hours,” Katie said, then hung up the phone.
The house was quiet. Both Tom and Ashley were still asleep. Katie quickly pulled on her pants and changed her shirt. She folded Ashley’s clothes and lay them on the coffee table next to the Exploding Kittens game. A smile spread across Katie’s lips. Last night was fun. She had not laughed like that in ages.
Katie pulled her boots on. She did not want to leave without saying goodbye, but she was not going to wake Ashley. Not when she knew that Tom was in there with her. She looked around for some paper and a pen. She found a notepad with Grocery List printed in looping cursive at the top. It would have to do. She quickly scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen counter.
Ashley,
There was a work emergency.
Didn’t want to wake you.
Thanks for the wine.
– Katie –
The dogs must have heard Katie moving around because Finn and Princess came barreling down the stairs. They dashed toward her, both clamoring to be the first to receive her attention.
Katie scratched them each behind the ear. “Go back upstairs,” she said. “Keep your mommy safe. I’ll be back to pet you later.”
As she turned to go, she hoped that she could keep her promise. She knew Elizabeth would reassign her at any time. She hoped that was not the reason Elizabeth wanted to meet. Katie stole one last glance at the sleeping house behind her, then stepped out into the biting Iowa cold and drove to the police station.
Katie found George in the conference room. It was an unadorned room with one long table surrounded by several faded, high-backed roller chairs. George, Chief Carmichael, and Elizabeth Clement sat at the far end of the table. Elizabeth was already dressed for the day, a mauve-colored pantsuit, as unflattering as it was out of style. George and Chief Carmichael leaned back in their chairs, relaxed. Elizabeth, however, maintained an impeccable posture.
“What took you so long?” George asked. “Painting your nails?”
Katie bristled. She did not have patience for his bullshit early in the morning. “That’s sexist, George.”
“I didn’t mean…” George, looking a little sheepish, stopped midsentence. He was from a different generation. One where men could say shit like that and get away with it.
“Whatever,” Katie said. She did not have the energy to argue. “I need some coffee.”
“Then get some.”
Katie snatched a coffee cup and marched toward the coffee maker. Elizabeth watched her with a tight smile. A fresh pot had been brewed, but it was already nearly half empty. She filled her cup and sat beside the chief, across the table from George.
“I was on special assignment, remember?” she said to George. “And Ashley lives in the country.”
“About that,” Elizabeth said. She threaded her fingers together and placed them in her lap. “Your special assignment is over.”
Katie flinched at the sound of the prosecutor’s voice. Elizabeth was not a small woman. She was of average height, but she had a larger bone structure, making her denser, like a softball player. She looked like a woman that would have a deep voice. Which was why her high-pitched tone always caught Katie by surprise.
“I don’t understand,” Katie said, shaking her head. “Is someone else going to do it?” Ashley was in grave danger. Even more so after Petrovsky’s murder.
Elizabeth blinked several times in rapid succession. It was something Katie’s mother used to do—or maybe still did—when irritated. “Something like that.”
“What does that mean?”
Elizabeth straightened. “It’s not for you to question. If I recall correctly, your choices led to Petrovsky’s release. I think we’ll rely on mine from now on.”
Katie gripped her coffee cup tight enough for her knuckles to turn white. She might have screwed up with Petrovsky, but Elizabeth had all the blame when it came to Von Reich’s acquittal. Elizabeth had done a shitty job presenting the evidence, and the jury’s verdict reflected that.
George tapped her with his toe under the table. A warning. Katie looked at him. He shook his head, a tiny shake that was barely perceptible, and mouthed, “Not now.”
Katie took a deep breath and tried to relax. He was right. Arguing with Elizabeth would not get her anywhere.
Elizabeth’s smile widened to show her teeth, baring even rows of tiny daggers. “Besides, I thought you’d be happy. Last I checked, you were begging for reassignment. I thought I was doing you a favor. And this is the thanks I get?”
“I’m sorry,” Katie said. It was an automatic response, a way to answer to authority, but she did not mean it. That bitch had insulted her. Right to her face.
“Apology accepted,” Elizabeth said. She looked down at her nails, admiring her French manicure. She wore them like a badge, an indication that she had graduated from her days of working with her hands. “Your new assignment is going to be the theft of Mimi Muuma’s car.”
Katie groaned. Mimi Muuma was eighteen years old, and she drove a Ferrari. Her father owned Muuma’s Moving, a local business that had gone national twenty or so years ago. The Muumas were one of the top ten richest families in the state of Iowa.
To make matters worse, Mimi’s father knew Katie’s dad, back before his downfall. Katie had not known Mimi back then, there was too much of an age difference, but she’d dealt with Mimi before. As an officer. Katie had picked the girl up for a minor-in-possession charge. Mimi thought she was untouchable. Judging by how quickly Elizabeth had dismissed charges against her, Mimi was right. She was a spoiled brat, and Katie could not help wondering if she would have been the same way had her life circumstances turned out differently. She hoped not, but with parents like Katie’s, who knew.
“I’m sure Daddy has already bought Mimi a shiny new car,” Katie said.
Elizabeth pursed her lips. “That’s not the point. Mimi is a good girl.”
That’s up for debate, Katie thought.
“Her family does a lot for Brine. It is important that we take this crime seriously. That family donates enough to the police department to support four officers’ yearly salaries.”
So they bought our loyalty, Katie thought.
“Wait a minute.” George put up a hand. “Why are we focusing on a car theft when there are two open murder investigations?”
Elizabeth’s eyelid twitched. She was annoyed. “Petrovsky and Von Reich are unsympathetic victims. Nobody cares about them.”
There it was again. A peek at Elizabeth’s misguided view of the criminal justice system. Just because nobody cared about Von Reich or Petrovsky did not mean that law enforcement should ignore them. They could not turn a blind eye to a murder rampage. It was wrong. Especially since Ashley could be next.
“So,” Katie said slowly, “you are saying that you don’t care to solve those murders. That your constituents, your voters, don’t like Von Reich and Petrovsky, so their deaths don’t matter. It’s a popula
rity contest, is it? We leave no stone left unturned when we are dealing with wealthy, well-connected families, but everyone else, they can piss off.”
“Don’t get self-righteous with me,” Elizabeth said slowly, dangerously. “You may think you can talk to everyone else that way, but I will not tolerate it. Do you understand?”
Katie crossed her arms.
“I said, do you understand?”
“Yes,” Katie grumbled. She understood, but she was not apologizing. She was not sorry.
“Besides, those cases are practically resolved.”
“What does that mean?” Katie said.
Petrovsky had only just died, and they had no leads when it came to Von Reich. Or at least no leads that did not run straight into a brick wall.
Chief Carmichael furrowed his brow. He turned to Elizabeth and considered her with his cold, calculating gaze. “Yes, Elizabeth, what exactly do you mean?”
17
Ashley
December 12th – 7:00 a.m.
Ashley turned and cast her arm out, searching for the soft warmth of Finn’s fur in the bed beside her. She still slept in her childhood bedroom. She could not bring herself to move into the master. It still felt like her mother’s room. Her hand struck something warm, but it was not a dog. Ashley’s eyes flew open.
“Shit,” she hissed.
“Wha?” Tom groaned.
Oh no. No no no no no, Ashley thought. She had slept with him. Or had she? She looked down and saw that she was still fully clothed. In the same outfit she had worn the day before.
Thank God, she thought.
“Good morning,” Tom said.
Ashley forced herself to look away from his beautiful face. “We didn’t,” she said and then paused. “You know…”