by J A Whiting
“But none of that would stand up in court,” Jay said. “None of those things can incriminate the man. Add all of those things up … they don’t prove murder.”
Shelly let out a groan. “I know you’re right, but those things sure make me want to keep Charlie on the suspect list.”
“I second that,” Juliet said. “Charlie is definitely a suspect.”
Jay nodded her head. “This thing is a puzzle with a thousand pieces.”
The women sat in Shelly’s living room talking about anything but the case using the time to relax and enjoy one another’s company. Justice joined in by sitting on the sofa between Shelly and Jay and requesting scratching behind her ears which they were happy to oblige.
With a yawn, Jay said, “Time for me to head to bed before I fall asleep on this comfortable couch.”
Justice stood up and growled low in her throat.
“What’s wrong, little one?” Shelly asked. “You don’t want Jay to leave?”
Juliet stretched and yawned. “Let’s see if I can stay awake long enough to drive you home. Will you come with me, Shelly, and keep me awake on the ride back?”
“Sure.” Shelly chuckled and went to get her jacket. “It’s only a ten-minute drive, but if I don’t go and you fall asleep, I’ll never hear the end of it,” she teased her friend.
Jay’s house was only about eight miles away. She lived there with her husband, Eddie. They’d been married for over twenty years and had an eighteen-year-old son, Mike, who was away at college in Boston.
“You’ve got the house to yourself for a couple of days,” Juliet said. “You should have a few wild parties while Eddie is away. Jay’s husband, a financial advisor, was in Boston to attend some meetings and visit with their son.
“I didn’t think about doing that,” Jay kidded. “I don’t know if I have time to pull a wild party together on such short notice.”
Juliet pulled the car into the long driveway and stopped in front of the garage. Jay thanked her sister for the ride and Shelly for the delicious dinner, and as she was opening the passenger side door, Shelly glanced to the house. “Jay. Hold up. Is your front window broken?”
With her hands on her hips, Jay stared at the front of the house while Shelly and Juliet got out of the car and went over to stand beside her.
“Maybe you should call the police,” Juliet suggested.
“I am the police.” Jay strode towards the front door, opened it, and entered with her sister and Shelly right behind her. When she flicked on the light, the two women behind her gasped.
The living room was in a shambles, with furniture overturned, books knocked off the bookcases, and the windows at the side of the room smashed. A good-sized rock sat on the rug. It had been thrown through the front window.
Jay let out a string of curses and stormed into the kitchen to see if there was any damage there. The room was untouched, but Jay stood at the kitchen table, trembling.
Shelly and Juliet walked up behind her and looked over the woman’s shoulders.
In the center of the table, was a smashed photograph of Jay, her husband, and their son.
A knife had been stabbed into the middle of the photo.
Juliet put her arm around her sister as Jay whipped her phone from her jacket pocket and placed a call. Her voice rattled with rage. “It’s Jay. I need some officers and a team at my house. Now.”
17
It was hours before Shelly, Juliet, and Jay headed back to Juliet’s place. Juliet had to work hard to convince her sister to come back home to sleep at her house.
“The windows are broken,” Juliet had said, “you certainly can’t stay here until they’ve been fixed.”
Jay had fussed for quite a while about needing to stay at home, but finally she relented and packed a small overnight bag.
Officers and a detective combed through the house and around the outside looking for any clues or evidence. A police photographer took pictures of everything and doors, knobs, and furniture were dusted for fingerprints despite the law enforcement officers believing nothing viable would be found.
“I’d bet money the perp wore gloves,” one of the investigators said, “and we won’t be finding any fingerprints.”
Jay had been shaken by the photo of her family having a large knife stuck into the center of it. Worry, fear, and fury had mixed together in equal parts until rage became the overriding emotion. “Some creep broke into our home, touched our things, is trying to intimidate me. It won’t work.” She called her husband and son to report what had happened and Eddie wanted to drive back from Boston right away, but Jay pooh-poohed the idea.
Two officers found some sheets of plywood in the basement and with Juliet’s and Shelly’s help were able to board up the three broken windows. When Jay saw the windows had been closed up, she went on and on about staying in the house, but Juliet wasn’t having it and practically dragged her sister to the car. “I’ll drive you to work in the morning like we planned. You can use one of the squad cars during the day, until your usual vehicle is out of the shop.” Jay’s car was in for service and would be ready in the afternoon.
While waiting for Jay to be done at the scene, Shelly wandered around the house trying to use her powerful intuition to understand who might have done the damage.
“I’m not picking up on anything,” Shelly admitted to Juliet.
Shaking her head, Juliet told her, “You’re not a psychic. You take things that happen during the day and your mind works on them during a dream. That’s how you make connections and figure things out. You can’t walk through the house expecting to ‘feel’ or ‘sense’ the vandal.”
“Oh, I know,” Shelly admitted. “I wish I could help with the whole mess. I don’t like to see Jay upset.”
Juliet had moved a little closer to her friend. “Do you think this break-in has something to do with Emma Pinkley?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Shelly said. “Jay has very recently talked to both Steve Carlton and Charlie Pinkley. Maybe one of them is afraid Jay’s investigation is getting too close, that she’ll figure everything out soon.”
“So the person breaks into her house and tries to frighten Jay off?” Juliet grunted. “They sure don’t know my sister. This violation of her home is only going to make her double-down, work more hours, leave no stone unturned. I pity the person who did this. Breaking into a police officer’s home? This guy is in big trouble.”
“But which guy did it?” Shelly asked. “It’s doubtful there were any witnesses. I bet whoever did it, left their phone at home so they couldn’t get pinged by the cell towers and I also bet there won’t be any fingerprints left behind either.” Looking around the room, she said, “Whoever did this is full of fury and resentment. Jay needs to be careful.”
Shelly could barely keep her eyes open when they returned from Jay’s house and pulled into Juliet’s driveway. After mumbling goodnights to each other, Shelly climbed the steps to her front door and went inside to see Justice waiting for her. The cat moved around her owner’s legs, rubbing and purring. Shelly picked up the Calico and hugged her. “It’s been a long night, Justice. I can’t wait to get into my bed.”
As soon as Shelly’s head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep sleep … and then the dream came again.
Back in the same restaurant, the women sat around the table talking and laughing. Dawn Barry was there sitting next to Emma.
Lauren eyed her sister and then looked over at Emma.
The money rained down from the ceiling again, and then it formed the cyclone, shot up high, and disappeared.
The women were having drinks. When Shelly reached for her wine glass, Lauren took it away, swallowed all the wine, and then turned the glass upside down.
Shelly tried to ask why she’d done that, but no words would come out of her mouth. She moved her hand to touch the wine glass, but Lauren shook her head slowly back and forth.
Shelly looked over at Emma to see the woman’s face
turning pale and pasty. Her eyelids slipped half-way closed and her hand shook when she held her glass. She almost seemed to be swaying slightly as if she was battling to keep herself awake.
Dawn smiled and spoke to Emma, but Shelly wasn’t able to hear what she’d said to her. Suddenly, a loud crash made everyone jump and startled sounds escaped their throats. A picture on the restaurant wall had fallen with a smash to the floor.
Shelly stood near the ruined painting and her heart began to race when she saw it was a picture of Emma, prone on her back, her glass in her hand, a cut on her wrist bleeding from being sliced by a broken shard.
After her eyes popped open and she realized where she was, Shelly ran her hand over the cat’s soft fur. “What does it mean, Justice? What’s this crazy dream trying to tell me?” She rested back on the pillow and after thirty minutes, fell back to sleep.
Having only a few hours of rest didn’t keep Shelly from waking with the sun. She texted Juliet to invite her and Jay over for a quick breakfast before heading to work and when the two women arrived, Shelly put out heaping platters of pancakes, eggs, and home fries.
“How are you doing?” Shelly asked Jay.
“Much better after seeing this hearty breakfast.” Jay poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Did you get any sleep?” Shelly put her napkin on her lap.
“Not much,” Jay admitted.
“Neither did I,” Juliet chimed in and rubbed her eyes. “It’s going to be a long day on the mountain with just a few hours of sleep. I couldn’t turn my brain off. I’d close my eyes and then see all the broken windows and the trashed room in Jay’s house.”
“Same with me.” Jay said. “I couldn’t stop thinking about who was responsible for the break-in. My mind wouldn’t rest and I became infuriated all over again.”
“What about you?” Juliet glanced over to her friend. “Where you able to get some sleep?”
Shelly set her mug down on the table and said softly, “I had the dream again.”
“Lauren was there?” Jay asked.
Shelly nodded.
“Did the same things happen in this one that’s happened in the other dreams?” Jay questioned.
“Yes, but this time when the painting fell, I saw Emma was the subject of the portrait. She was unconscious in the painting. Emma was on the floor, on her back. She looked dead.” Shelly’s heart raced. “What’s this dream trying to tell me?”
“The smashed portrait could be symbolic of Jay’s broken windows,” Juliet offered. “Emma’s in the painting because the vandalism has something to do with Emma’s murder.”
Shelly took in a deep breath and wished the dreams and the discussions of the nighttime images didn’t bother her so much. “Emma looked awful, like she was sick or exhausted or about to pass out. Her face was as white as snow. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. I know she looked terrible to symbolize the onset of her illness after getting home from the restaurant. But, I don’t know. I feel like I’m supposed to be seeing something else … that the dream is trying to get me to understand something.” Shelly lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “But what is it? What am I missing?”
“Do you recognize the people sitting around the table?” Jay asked.
“Only Emma and Dawn Barry. I don’t know what the other women look like who were there that evening with Emma.” Shelly picked up her fork and then set it back down again. “I’m there, and Lauren is, too, but it feels strange, like we’re only watching the people around the table, we’re really not part of the group. The other women don’t seem to notice that we’re there with them.”
“In other dreams you’ve had, do you interact with the other people in the dream?” Jay asked.
Shelly thought for a moment. “Well, in regular dreams sometimes I do, but in the Lauren dreams, I’m often just watching and I don’t speak very often. Lauren never uses words, either.”
“What things have been in all of the recent Lauren dreams?” Jay asked.
“Let’s see, the money swirling around, the women sitting around the table, and the wine glass,” Shelly said. “The smashed painting showed up in two dreams and this is the first time I was sure Emma was at the table.”
“What does Lauren do when the money starts swirling around?” Jay questioned.
“Not much. We both glance at it, but it doesn’t seem to bother us.”
“And the wine glass?” Jay asked. “In every dream, Lauren takes the glass away from you and turns it upside down?”
“Yes. She drinks the wine before she turns it over.”
“Does she seem upset, or frightened, or angry?” Juliet asked.
“None of those things.” Shelly shook her head. “Lauren seems matter-of-fact, maybe a little annoyed or maybe, determined, once she seemed sad. She does not want me to drink that wine.”
Justice let out a howl making the three of them jump, and then all of sudden, Jay, Shelly, and Juliet sat up straight, each one thinking the same thought.
“The wine,” Juliet said. “Your sister doesn’t want you to drink it.”
“There’s something wrong with the wine,” Jay suggested.
A light went off in Shelly’s head. “Only me and Emma. We’re the only ones who have wine glasses. Emma drank from hers.”
Jay stood up. “I need to talk to the other women who were at that gathering. I need to find out if any of the others got sick after being at that dinner.”
18
In the middle of the afternoon, Shelly and Juliet left their jobs at the resort to head for Jay’s house to clean up the rest of the break-in mess and to meet with the contractor who was coming to work on the windows.
The contractor’s truck was at the end of the driveway near the garage and two men were at the front of the house measuring the picture window. Juliet spoke with them about what needed to be done and the men assured her the window work would be completed by early evening. The owner of the company knew Jay’s reputation as an honest, hard-working member of law enforcement and a valued member of the community. The owner was sending a second crew to the house in order to get the job done that day.
Juliet and Shelly entered the house and stopped at the threshold, the mess of the room making their hearts drop from the assault on Jay and her family.
“It looks worse in the light of day.” Juliet’s throat was tight with sadness and anger.
Shelly touched her friend’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ll have it spotless by the time Jay gets home. She’s not alone. She’s got the whole town behind her, looking out for her.”
The two friends replaced every book on the bookshelves, used a small shovel to remove the larger pieces of broken glass from the floor, ran the vacuum over the floor and the rugs to suck up small shards of glass, straightened the furniture, dusted and washed down the coffee table and side tables to rid the surface of any tiny pieces of the broken windows, and then went into the kitchen.
The framed, broken photograph of Jay, Eddie, and their son still rested on the tabletop. The knife had been removed and taken to the police station leaving the mangled photo behind.
Juliet got a folder from Jay’s desk and slipped the sliced up picture inside of it. “I’ll put the photo aside in case the detective wants to take another look at it. I know where Jay had this picture done. The photographer has a shop in town. Let’s go there later and see if she can produce another one. I’ll have it framed for Jay and Eddie.”
Shelly agreed it would be a thoughtful thing to do. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”
When Juliet went outside to answer a question for the contractors, Shelly washed off the kitchen table and returned to the living room to get the dust cloths they’d left in there. One had fallen to the floor and when she bent to pick it up, Shelly noticed something sticking out from under the baseboard.
Walking over to the wall and bending down, she picked up a phone just as Juliet came into the house.
“What’s that?” Juliet asked.
Shelly held it out. “It was partially under the baseboard. It must have gotten kicked under there last night when the officers were in the room looking for clues.”
Juliet took the phone from her friend. “It’s not Jay’s. Maybe it fell out of one of the officer’s pockets. I’ll turn it on and see if there’s an emergency contact or family contact information.”
When the phone came on and Juliet opened the contact information, she gasped and pushed the phone at Shelly. “Look at it.”
Glancing at the list of contact information on the screen, Shelly’s heart dropped. Emma, Aubrey, Mason, the hospital. She made eye contact with Juliet. “It’s Charlie Pinkley’s phone.”
Juliet sank onto the sofa and when she spoke, her voice shook. “He was in here? He did this damage? Charlie Pinkley?”
“We shouldn’t have touched it. Our fingerprints are on it now.” Shelly went into the kitchen, took a plastic sandwich bag from the drawer, and slipped the phone into it. When she returned to the living room, a stunned Juliet was still sitting on the sofa.
“Come on. Let’s take this to the police station,” Shelly suggested. “Jay needs to see it.”
Jay’s face hardened like stone when she saw the phone and the contact list and once she collected herself, she called for an officer to take the phone away and enter it into evidence collection where it would be tested for fingerprints.
“Charlie Pinkley.” Jay said the man’s name like it left a bad taste in her mouth. She sat in her chair behind the desk and took a deep breath. “The man claimed that his phone was lost. He had to get a new one.” Jay looked at the two women sitting across from her. “Thoughts?”
“A couple of thoughts,” Shelly started. “One, Charlie was in your house. He did the damage. He killed Emma. He may feel trapped and frightened by your investigation and is trying to intimidate you.”
“What’s your second thought?” Jay asked.
“Charlie was in your house. He did not kill Emma, but he feels like you’re going to pin the murder on him and he’ll end up going to prison. He isn’t known for good judgment. He is known for impulsive behavior. He wanted to strike out at you so when he saw the house was empty, he broke in, and dropped his phone.”