by Alex Marcoux
But there was no response.
Jessie continued toward the gazebo, her path illuminated by only moonlight. Shadows engulfed the structure, creating an eerie feeling in the air. She was about 20 feet from the gazebo when she stopped and yelled out. “Taylor?”
Each passing second of silence added to Jessie’s anxiety, then she saw a silhouette standing within the shadows, and slowly emerged from the structure.
“Taylor?” Jessie whispered and then she ran to her. The two silently embraced. Jessie backed away to look at her. “Are you okay?” But before Jessie gave her a chance to respond, she reached for Taylor’s right hand; the blood was dry now. Then she looked at her left leg. Her jeans were torn at the knee and blood stained.
“How did you know?” Taylor asked.
“It’s a long story.” Jessie wrapped her arm around Taylor. “Let’s get back to the house.”
Taylor stopped. “Are the police there?”
“Yes.”
“Jessie, there was a note. Kurk was murdered.”
Jessie could see the tears swell in Taylor’s eyes. “I know. I saw the note.”
“My God, he was killed all because of me. It’s just as well I’ve been in the closet. I don’t think I could live with myself if something happened to you.” Taylor leaned her head against Jessie’s shoulder and the two walked back to the house.
Detective Perry expressed relief when Jessie and Taylor walked into the foyer. Both women were surprised to see Detective Bradley there.
“Ms. Andrews, nice to see you again,” Detective Bradley said. “I’m sorry it’s under such difficult circumstances.” Bradley looked at Jessie. “Why Ms. Mercer, you seem to be around a lot.”
“It’s nice to see you too, Detective Bradley,” Jessie said. She went to the kitchen and returned with a wet cloth to clean Taylor’s hand and knee.
“Can we sit? I have some questions,” Bradley said. He led the women to the living room. “I want to minimize traffic through the house. It’s going to take some time to get the criminologists to go through this place. Ms. Andrews, it would be best if you can stay someplace else for a while.”
“Taylor, you can stay with me,” Jessie said.
Bradley eyed Jessie and said smugly, “Yeah. I figured on that.”
“Detective Bradley, what is your problem?”
“My problem is that I have an unsolved murder.”
“Other than the note found tonight, what makes you think that Kurk was murdered?” Jessie asked.
“It’s always been suspicious because the autopsy shows that he had an allergic reaction to peanut protein and yet there was no evidence that he ate peanuts before he died. There were no peanut constituents found in any part of his digestive system. Only in his mouth.”
“Could it have been from peanut oil?” Taylor asked.
“No. From what I understand, by the time peanut oil is processed, there’s no protein remaining that would cause an allergic reaction. There was no evidence of peanuts anywhere near him when he died, yet he died from contact with peanut protein. Until we understood the protein’s source, we would have always categorized it as suspicious. But now…it’s murder.”
“What can we do to help?” Taylor asked.
“I have a couple questions, then you can leave and we can talk more on Monday. I know it’s been a while, but on the night that Kurk had his allergic reaction, you administered epinephrine to him. Is that correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“We later learned that the EpiPen had expired, correct?”
Taylor remembered. The feeling of being responsible for Kurk’s death amplified. “We’ve already been through all this!”
“Where did you get the EpiPen?”
“I told you. It was in my purse.”
“Did you take it from the purse?”
Taylor thought back to that dreadful night, trying to recall.
“I gave it to her,” Jessie admitted.
“You gave it to her, Ms. Mercer?”
“That’s correct.”
“And where did you get it?”
“From Taylor’s purse. It was under the table.”
“When you took it out of Ms. Andrews’s purse, did you notice that it had expired?”
“Of course not!”
“Ms. Mercer, what is the nature of your relationship with Ms. Andrews?” Jessie stared back at Detective Bradley but remained silent.
“What is the relationship between the two of you?” Bradley repeated his question.
“Not that this is any of your business, but we’re lovers,” Taylor admitted.
“I see. Did Mr. Warner know?”
“We weren’t involved when Kurk was alive,” Taylor said.
“I see. About tonight…from what I understand, Ms. Andrews, you were out of town and came back this evening?”
“That’s correct. I was in New York since Monday, and landed at LAX a little before eight o’clock.” Taylor said.
“And how did you get from the airport?”
“I took a limo.”
“And the name of the limo company?”
“Herman.”
Bradley wrote the name down. “Was there any evidence of a break-in when you arrived?”
Taylor shook her head.
“Perhaps at your security gate?”
“No. The gate was closed.”
“Who knows the security password and how often do you change it?”
“I change it usually once a year, around New Year’s. I think the only people that know it are Jessie and Doreen Lowell.”
“Who’s Doreen?”
“She’s my cleaning person. I’ve known her for years. She comes in once a week, usually on Thursdays.”
“And she came this week?”
“I believe so.”
“What’s her number?”
“555-5645.”
Bradley made another note on his pad. “Okay, so you get here and find a bottle of wine, some flowers, candles, and music playing. Then what?”
“Initially, I thought Jessie was upstairs waiting for me. I poured myself a glass of wine and went upstairs. There was a light on in the bathroom. I still thought it was Jessie, but then she called.”
“So you’re in your bedroom on the phone with your lover and you realize that she isn’t in the bathroom?”
“That’s right. Then there was a noise from the bathroom and I bolted.”
“You bolted?”
“Yes. I ran downstairs, went into the garage and into my car. I tried to open the garage door with the opener. It didn’t work. Then, I found the note.”
“The note about Kurk?”
Taylor nodded. “Yes. I got out of the car and tried to open the garage doors manually, but they wouldn’t budge.”
Bradley looked at her injured hand. “Is that when you cut yourself?”
“Yes.”
“And then what happened?”
“I just bolted and kept running, then Jessie found me.”
Bradley turned to Jessie. “And where were you, Ms. Mercer, when you called.”
“I was in my car on my way back from a writer’s conference.”
“What’s the name of the conference and where was it?”
“The Western Fiction Writers at the Hyatt Regency in Irvine.”
“Are you registered at the conference? Can anyone vouch that you were there?”
Jessie stared back at the detective. “You know, I don’t like what you’re implying. But yes. About 300 people can vouch that I was there. I was the keynote speaker.”
“That’s right. You’re a big fancy writer. I saw Deceptions last weekend. I didn’t realize until then that you were the famous novelist and screenwriter.” Bradley leaned back in his chair; a scheming smile came to his lips.
“Now how’d you come up with the idea of Deceptions? Rock’n Roll singer’s husband is murdered. Her lesbian lover is later tried and convicted of his murder…I sure hope for both your sak
es this plays out differently.”
Jessie stood. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes. When was the last time you were here?”
“You really don’t think I did this, do you?”
“Amuse me.”
“I don’t stay here when Taylor’s out of town.”
“So when was the last time you were here?”
“I left Monday morning.”
Chapter 23
A police officer drove Jessie and Taylor down the driveway to Jessie’s car. It was after midnight and both women were tired as they sped away from Taylor’s property. Jessie was quiet. She was actually fuming from Detective Bradley’s implications, and Taylor knew it.
“Don’t let him bother you, Jess,” Taylor said.
“Yeah. You’re right.” Jessie reached over and took Taylor’s hand in her own. “How’s your other hand?”
Taylor looked at the cut. It had stopped bleeding and was clean. “It’s fine.”
“We’ll get it bandaged as soon as we get home.”
“Jessie, how did you know my hand and knee were hurt?”
Jessie thought back to when she had experienced Taylor’s flight.
“Something happened to me tonight and it’s never happened before. I don’t understand it.”
“What?”
“After we searched the house and couldn’t find you, I went outside on your bedroom deck.”
“You couldn’t have seen me from there.”
“I closed my eyes, and I experienced your run.”
“What?”
“It was as if I was in your body. I was in your garage. I saw your hand bleeding and I could feel your terror. You ran through the house, outside and down the stairs. You missed the bottom step and fell on your knee. You thought you were being followed. Somehow, I experienced your flight.”
Taylor remained speechless. She knew there was no way of having been seen from the deck, and the escape Jessie described was accurate.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t. I just don’t know how to respond to it.” Taylor reflected on the events of the evening. “Jessie, I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before.”
Jessie squeezed Taylor’s hand. She hadn’t been so scared before either. Not this lifetime. “Taylor, would you move in with me until this thing is resolved?”
“I don’t want to endanger your life. If some wacko wants to be with me and killed Kurk, what’s to stop him from hurting you?”
“We’re smarter now. I’m not letting you go back to that house alone. We’ll keep it quiet, and we’ll be careful. Please?”
It had been a hectic week for the two of them. Taylor’s Porsche was still in her garage in Malibu, and they shared Jessie’s loaner car. The Lexus was not due back from the auto body shop until the end of the week. Jessie and Taylor were asked to come into the police station and they were interviewed separately. The police suspected that the person who broke into Taylor’s house wasn’t there when Taylor returned that evening. Rather, they believed the noises Taylor heard were caused by the wind. The harassment file that Detective Perry maintained had been turned over and combined with Detective Bradley’s homicide file.
Taylor went to Mark’s office during the week and updated him on the events from the previous Friday evening. He was clearly irate and agreed to increase security measures at all her events until Kurk’s murderer and her harasser was found.
“Taylor if there’s anything I can do, anything, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”
“Thanks, Mark.”
“I mean it. Use me. Abuse me,” he smiled, “I know that Jessie’s there for you. But I’m sure she can’t be there all the time. Call me if you need anything. Someone to talk to, perhaps.”
“That’s sweet. You’ve always been there for me, Mark; thank you.”
Mark placed his hand on top of Taylor’s and squeezed it slightly. He smiled. Then he withdrew and changed the subject. “I’m going on vacation next month. Your schedule is pretty light while I’m away. I’ll have my satellite phone with me if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine and you have a nice vacation. Where are you going?”
“The Grand Canyon. I’m doing a rafting trip down the Colorado River.”
“Camping?”
“Yes. It’s the only way if you want to raft. It’s a five-day trip.”
“You don’t strike me as the camping type.”
“You’re right about that. But I’ve been told that this is the way to go. All the food is provided, gourmet meals, too. That reminds me, I’ve got to get out to the sporting goods store soon. I need to pick up some camping stuff.”
“You know, I think Jessie has a lot of camping equipment. I’m sure she’d be happy to lend it rather than buying stuff that you’ll probably never use again.”
“That would be great. I don’t need a lot. They provide the tent and sleeping bag, but I know I need rain gear, a solar shower, daypack and general camping accessories.”
“Let me check with Jessie and I’ll let you know what she has.”
Previously, Jessie had noticed the coincidences between her story of Deceptions, and her own life. But now that they knew Kurk had been murdered, she was more concerned. She spent more time meditating that week, trying to understand the meaning. Then she called Carrie and arranged a meeting with her.
Jessie reviewed the coincidences between her life and the story of Deceptions with Carrie. “Do you think Deceptions was precognitive?” Jessie asked.
“You mean your future?” Carrie was careful not to conclude about the meaning. “How was the story conceived?”
“It was very different from anything else I’ve written. The story just came to me.”
“How? Was it visual?”
“Not visual like moving pictures, but visual like in my imagination. I would just imagine a set of circumstances and the next thing I knew the story took off on me. The plots and even subplots developed in my head with little effort. Getting the words on paper was easier than ever before.”
“Perhaps you’re just using your creativity differently, and you’re writing more efficiently.”
“Or perhaps I’m going to be accused and convicted of Kurk Warner’s murder.”
“I don’t think you can jump to those conclusions, Jessie.”
“What concerns me is I’ve started the sequel to Deceptions. As I’m writing, I’m wondering if these things will happen to me.”
“What’s that story about?”
“In Deceptions, Nicole is convicted and sent to prison for the murder of Dillon’s husband. The sequel is about Nicole’s struggle to prove her innocence from within the walls of the prison.”
A week had passed since the scare at Taylor’s house, and Taylor agreed that she would move in with Jessie until Kurk’s murder was solved. The two drove out to Taylor’s property the following Saturday. They were informed that the criminologist had finished with the house. Doreen had agreed to go there that Saturday morning and start cleaning up. The candles, flowers and wine bottle had been removed by the police officers, and Doreen had cleaned the bedroom and bathroom by the time Taylor and Jessie arrived.
Within a couple of hours, Taylor and Jessie had packed Taylor’s belongings and removed them to the Porsche and Lexus. Doreen had finished, Taylor paid her for the services and explained that she was going on an extended trip and would not need her for a while.
They closed up the house, and, on their way out, Taylor changed the security code at the gate.
“I don’t want to know your new password,” Jessie said.
Taylor and Jessie settled into their life together. Taylor didn’t seem to be bothered that she was missing some of the comforts of her home. Jessie knew that having a live in was a big step for her. It had been years since she lived full-time with a lover. She thoroughly enjoyed having Taylor around.
Jessie and Taylor maintained the secrecy that Taylor was with her. Onl
y the police and Mark knew. Jessie took extra precautions around the house. She beefed up her security system and had motion lights installed around the property. Taylor did not go out very much, and when she did, most of the time Jessie went with her.
Detective Bradley continued questioning the couple, especially Jessie. Like clockwork, once a week he would call, set up a time to visit and drive out to Jessie’s house. There had been no incidents or threats against Taylor in a month, and yet each week Bradley interrogated the couple. Often, like a broken record he would inquire about matters he had already dwelled upon, over and over.
During a recent visit with Taylor, Bradley asked about Kurk’s financial matters.
“Were you aware that during the last five years of Mr. Warner’s life he deposited fairly significant amounts of cash into a savings account?” Bradley asked.
“No. How often? How much?” Taylor asked.
“Every month, for almost five years. The deposits averaged over four thousand dollars each month…over a quarter of a million in the five years. No small pocket change.”
“I had no idea.”
“Do you know where he would get the cash?” Bradley asked.
Taylor shook her head. “No. I would talk with his accountant, Justin Brenner. He handled all Kurk’s finances.”
“We’ve already spoken with Mr. Brenner. He claimed that the money was gambling winnings and was reported on his tax returns.”
“Gambling?”
Later that evening Taylor shared the information with Jessie. “Jessie, the strange thing is—I never knew Kurk gambled.”
Chapter 24
It was a Wednesday morning when Jessie kissed Taylor goodbye and left for a weekly visit to the library. Even with the Internet, she still preferred the old fashioned way to conduct research for her books. She was working on her new story and found the work more difficult than her previous novel, mostly because she questioned every idea that crept into her head. With every new insight she wondered if it was her future. If she didn’t like the prospect she’d look for a new twist, as if she could direct her own future. So her storyline kept changing.
Each week when Jessie went off to the UCLA library, Taylor stayed at the house and worked on her music. Today was no different than any other Wednesday, until the phone rang.