by Kayt Miller
Right now, it’s Patsy.
“Patsy.” I place my hands on my hips. “I can’t talk about an open case.”
“This is fucking ridiculous.” Robbi, short for Roberta, is the outspoken one and sort of intimidating, if I’m being honest. “Quinn’s so upset she’s about ready to jump on a plane even though Cooke’s still recuperating.”
I’d like to see Quinn, but not under these circumstances. “This can’t be helped.”
“Sure it can,” says Susanna, Patsy’s sister, from the back of the group. “Just let her go. This is crazy.”
“She’ll be arraigned. After that, I’m sure she’ll be able to post bail.” I don’t know why I said that. I’m not sure about anything.
“Arraigned?” Lindsay squeaks. “Bail?”
“How’s Luke handling all of this?” Robbi’s got her arms crossed in front of her, and her hip is jutted to the right. Yeah, she’s angry.
“I couldn’t say.” Because while I’ve seen him, I haven’t spoken to him. Tayler’s attorney showed up and told her not to speak. Then she was placed in a cell, and that was that.
“How is Tayler?” Patsy’s sounding a bit forlorn.
“She’s holding up.” I checked on her right before I changed out of my uniform. She’d been crying, but she seemed to be okay. “You all just need to head home and let this process play out.”
“This ‘process’”—Robbi uses air quotes—“is bullshit.”
“Uh-huh.” I start to walk away from the group because the direction Robbi’s heading isn’t going to help anyone.
“Just tell us why you think she did it.” I’m not sure which woman asks the question. My guess would be Patsy.
Turning back around, I see the worry on all their young faces. “I’m not at liberty to say much, but I can say there was an eyewitness.”
One by one, their expressions change from worry to something completely different.
“Bullshit.” Robbi again.
“Ladies, that’s all I can say for now. The detective in charge of the case is Dan Trumbull.”
“But you’re going to help, right, Gage?” Katherine Kramer, better known as Kat, steps forward. “Quinn would want you to help find the real killer.”
These Beedle Babes, as Quinn calls them, have all got the impression that Quinn and I have some sort of special friendship. We don’t. Sure, my heart sort of did a little flip-flop when I first met Quinn, but that lasted until the day I met the boyfriend. She’s got someone in her life, and she seems happy. That’s all there is to it. Still, I care about Quinn. I probably always will. She’s unique. Special. Beautiful. I’ve got more adjectives I could use to describe her, but why bother? That ship has sailed. I missed my chance with her. Period.
“I’m assisting on the case.” At least according to my captain, and much to my chagrin. Like I said, I’m too close to this one.
“So you’ll find the real killer,” Kat states, again, like it’s a done deal.
It’s not.
I blink at the women, wondering what I need to say to get them out of here. I’m tired and so damn hungry having worked a double shift thanks to the murder of Kara Becker.
With a sigh, I place my hands on my hips. I might as well take advantage of the fact they’re all there. Hell, if Quinn were here in the States, I’m afraid she’d be sitting in the station for questioning as well. I may as well ask them a few. “Let me ask you all something. When was the last time you each saw Kara Becker?”
There’s a backstory here that needs to be addressed. These women—Patsy and Susanna, in particular—have known Kara for years. Their mom works for her father. Kara was supposed to live with this group of women in their rental on Beedle Drive here in Ames. Instead, Quinn moved in, which infuriated Kara. The two were at odds for a while. So much so that Kara destroyed Quinn’s scooter and was undeniably out to get Quinn. All of it forced Kara’s father to drag her out of Ames, promising everyone that she’d transfer to another school. Apparently, that didn’t happen.
“When did we see Kara last?” asks Lindsay.
I nod. “When was the last time each of you saw Kara?”
“I haven’t seen her since she moved back home,” Lindsay answers first.
“We”—Patsy points to her little sister—“saw her when we went home the last time.”
“When was that?” I reach up to grab my notebook, but I’m not wearing my uniform, only my old army tee. Pulling out my phone, I open my Notes application, then look up at Patsy, waiting for her response.
“March?” she asks, looking at her sister.
“Yeah, spring break,” Susanna replies.
“Right,” Patsy says, nodding.
“I’ll come back to that.” I say to the sisters. Turning to Robbi, I ask. “What about you, Robbi? Did you know Kara Becker was back in town?”
Surprisingly, Robbi’s quiet. But only for a second. “I saw her. At Cy’s.”
I can’t help noticing the looks on the other women’s faces. They’re obviously surprised to hear that Robbi had seen her in town.
I look down at my phone and type, asking, “When?”
“Last weekend.”
“Who was she with?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. I was sitting at the bar with Bull. She stepped up, saw me, then turned and left. It was weird.”
“So you didn’t see her in the bar prior to that?”
Robbi shakes her head. “No.”
“Have you seen her since?”
I get another head shake.
“Did you happen to mention to anyone else that you’d seen Kara?”
When Robbi doesn’t answer my question, I look up from my notes. “Robbi? Did you hear my question?”
She nods slowly.
“And?”
I’ve been a cop long enough to know that silence can be deafening. “You know you’re going to be officially questioned, right? You need to be prepared to answer questions truthfully.” I arch my brow and look directly at Robbi.
“Um… I sent Tayler a text.”
I’m not sure who, but someone gasps.
Glaring at her friends, then at me, she snaps, “I did it so she’d warn Quinn.” Robbi’s voice rises, sounding defensive.
Patsy reaches out and places her hand on Robbi’s shoulder. “We would have done the same thing, Rob.”
“Why will we be questioned?” Lindsay asks with a squeaky voice.
“Because you knew the victim and you know the accused,” I explain.
“This is all such bullshit,” Robbi spits. “Tayler wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
I know Tayler’s a nice woman and all, and she may not hurt a fly, but she might just hurt the person who was out to get her best friend. She’s not as sweet and innocent as people are making her out to be. I witnessed it firsthand sitting in her living room. She threatened Kara’s life that day when I told her and Quinn that Kara was moving back to Ames. Actually, she said something like “Kara had better hope she never crosses my path. I’ll fucking kill her.”
So there’s that.
“Thanks for agreeing to talk to me here.”
The next afternoon, Finch and I are sitting in the living room of the house on Beedle Drive. I warned him to keep his mouth shut this time. He agreed. Each of Quinn’s former roommates are present, including Lindsay, Patsy, Susanna, Robbi, and Kat. A guy known as Bull, real name Brandon Kemp, is also here since he was with Robbi the night she saw Kara at Cy’s Roost.
“Ask us anything you want, Gage,” Patsy says, smiling. “Whatever we need to do to help Tayler, we’ll do it.”
I nod, scanning the small group. “So, Robbi, you saw Kara Becker at Cy’s Roost.”
Robbi nods.
“Bull? Do you remember seeing her as well?”
“I didn’t know who she was, but Robbi mentioned something to me after she left.”
“What did she say?”
Bull looks over at Robbi, who nods. Looking back at me, he says, “She said she was
the bitch who was harassing Quinn.”
“What was your response to that?”
He looks at Robbi again. Same thing. She nods, and then he answers, “I asked her if she wanted me to….” He hesitates, looking at Robbi again. She nods. “I, uh, asked her if she wanted me to handle that.”
“Handle that?” Shit. Is this guy incriminating himself? “What did you mean by that?”
“You know. Talk to her.”
“Talk?”
“Yeah. Talk.” He grunts, his expression stormy. “I’d never hurt a girl.”
“Of course not, babe,” Robbi says, patting his hand. “We all know you’re a teddy bear under all that muscle.”
Bull smiles down at Robbi, but when he looks at me, he glares as he continues, “Robbi said no, and I never saw her after that night.”
“Robbi?” I look at her. “You never saw Kara after that initial sighting at Cy’s?”
“No.”
“You didn’t go to her apartment?”
“No. I wasn’t sure where she lived.” She shrugs.
“A simple search online would have given you that information.” I know because I tried it.
“I didn’t visit her. Why would I?”
Ignoring her question, I decide to change directions a little. “When did you contact Tayler about seeing Kara?”
“That night. I sent her a text.”
“Is that message still on your phone?”
Robbi nods.
“May I see the exchange?”
With a curse I can’t quite make out, Robbi reaches behind her, retrieving her phone. “I know I should make you get a warrant or something, but if this helps Tayler….”
I can’t address that comment until I’ve seen the messages.
Robbi clicks around on her phone until she finds what I need. She hands it to me, and I begin to read as Finch leans in to read over my shoulder.
I hate that.
Robbi: Yo. I just spotted that bitch Kara at Cy’s.
It looks as though Tayler replied right away.
Tayler: What the hell? Seriously?
Robbi: Seriously.
Tayler: Is she still there?
Robbi: No. She saw me and left.
Tayler: I thought her father promised he’d keep her out of Ames.
Robbi: No clue. Do you want me to do anything?
Tayler: No. I’ll take care of it.
Robbi: You sure?
Tayler: Positive. I’m just glad Quinn’s not here. Who knows what that psycho would do?
Robbi: Word.
Tayler: LOL. Word?
Robbi: Bringing back a classic.
Tayler: How’s Bull? <3
Robbi: Bull… Bull is a surprise.
Tayler: What does that mean? Are you talking sexually, because I don’t need to know. LOL
Robbi: It means Bull is nothing like I thought he was. And yes, sexually he’s got a BIG surprise.
Tayler. NO! TMI!
Robbi: LOL. Sorry. Not sorry.
Tayler: Well, thanks for letting me know. Not about Bull!!!
Robbi: Ha! No problem.
The only part of this exchange that sounds a bit dubious is when Tayler says, “I’ll take care of it.” Otherwise, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Well, except I didn’t need to know about Bull and his….
Looking up at Robbi, I ask her if she’d send me a copy of this exchange. When she agrees, I hand back her phone, saying, “This may need to be taken into evidence.”
“Whatever,” she grumbles.
Turning back to Patsy and Susanna, I say, “Tell me more about your interaction with Kara while you were home.”
The two sisters look at each other, and then Patsy speaks. “We ran into her at the convenience store in our hometown.”
“When was that again?” I ask, jotting down that information.
“Like, um, March 18?” Susanna’s response sounds like more of a question. She looks at her sister. “Right?”
“Around there.” Patsy nods. “I remember it was dinnertime because we were picking up pizza.”
“Was Kara alone?” I ask.
“I think so.” Patsy looks at Susanna, who nods.
“Can you remember who spoke first?”
“I did,” says Susanna. “I said hello and asked her how she was doing.”
“What did she say?”
“She smiled.” Susanna shakes her head. “No. It was more than that. She was beaming.”
“She was.” Patsy nods. “But Kara could put on an act if needed.”
Shaking her head, Susanna disputes Patsy’s theory. “No. She was really happy. She said she had a lot going on and that she had big plans. I figured she meant going to the University of Iowa or something, but our pizza was ready then, so I didn’t get a chance to ask her.”
I look up after writing my notes. “Did she say anything else?”
The two women look at each other, then back at me. “I don’t remember,” Patsy answers.
With a nod, Susanna has something, “She said she’d see us around.”
“Did you think she meant she’d see you in Ames?” I ask.
Shrugging, Susanna shakes her head. “No. I thought she meant around town, you know, in Stuart.”
I turn to Kat and Lindsay. “Neither of you saw Kara in Ames prior to her death?”
Both women shake their heads.
I expected that response. Scanning the group again, I hope to get a little more. “Can you all think of people Kara spent time with when she was in Ames prior to or around the time she had issues with Quinn?”
The room is quiet until Kat raises her hand like we’re in class.
“Yes?” I acknowledge her.
“She hung out with that guy Quinn liked.” Leaning forward, she looks at the rest of the women in the room. “Right?”
“Yeah,” Lindsay responds. “Quinn was sort of upset about that.”
Kat nods. “She was.”
“What was his name?” I ask.
Kat throws out, “It was something like Bradley.” She turns to the group. “Right, guys?”
“I thought it was something like Braxton,” Robbi adds.
I sigh inwardly. “Well, do you think you could find out for sure and call me?”
They all nod in unison. Well, not Bull. He’s sitting next to Robbi as stiff as a board.
“Can you think of anyone else?”
Again, in unison, they all shake their heads. Even Bull joins in this time.
Shutting my notebook, I stand. “Robbi and Bull, you two may need to come down to the station to talk to the rest of the team.”
“Sure.” It’s Bull who speaks for the pair.
Reaching into my breast pocket, I retrieve several of my cards. Placing them on the coffee table, I ask them to call me if they think of anything.
“We will.” Patsy says, smiling. “We want to help Tayler any way we can.”
“Thanks.” I make my way to the front door. Reaching for the knob, I turn and repeat, “Seriously. Any information you think of, let me know. You’d be surprised what can help.”
“We will,” Patsy responds like she’s the spokesperson for the group.
I suppose she is.
Chapter Three
Gage
Strange. None of the women from Beedle Drive asked any questions about Kara. I know she wasn’t a nice woman, but they hung out with her, yet none of them even asked how she died.
Pulling into my small two-bedroom bungalow, I put the car in Park and sit with it running. Come to think of it, neither Tayler nor Luke asked how she died. In my mind, if it were me being arrested, I think that’d be my first question. But I am a cop. Still, if they had, maybe knowing the cause and that it likely wasn’t premeditated would help. Whoever killed her—and I’m not entirely convinced it was Tayler—grabbed the first thing they saw and bam. It’s what we call a crime of passion. Which means anyone could have done it. The weapon of choice, a four iron from what appears
to be Kara’s golf bag, was something anyone could have grabbed and swung with enough force to kill a person. You don’t have to be male or even especially strong to do the damage that was done, because the golf club did all the work.
Just then, I hear the phone vibrate in my pocket. Leaning back, I slide the phone out and see it’s Quinn calling. I knew it was just a matter of time. I’ve been dreading this.
“Hello?” I answer with as much calm as I can muster.
“Oh my God, Gage. What’s going on there? You arrested Tayler? For murder?” The last word came out as a loud sort of screech. “How could you? She’d never kill anyone. Trust me.”
“Quinn—”
But she doesn’t let me speak. “She’d never kill anyone. Ever. She’s so happy. She and Luke finally figured their stuff out. She wouldn’t jeopardize that.”
“Quinn, listen—”
“You’ve got to find who really killed her, Gage.”
“Quinn—”
“How’d she die, anyway?”
Finally! “Blunt force trauma.”
“Huh?”
“She was hit over the head.”
“Tayler couldn’t hit anyone hard enough to kill them. She’s a wimp. She’s got no upper body strength.”
I want to laugh. I really do. But this is serious.
“The weapon appears to have been a golf club.” I shouldn’t be saying anything to Quinn. They haven’t released anything to the press. If it gets around that I’m telling people, especially the suspect’s best friend, about the crime scene, I’d be reprimanded.
“Well, there you go. I know it wasn’t her. Tayler hates golf.”
That’s it. I can’t help it. I laugh. Which makes the other person on the phone grow silent. It’s then I hear what sounds like sniffles. Quinn’s crying.
Shit. “Quinn, I didn’t mean to laugh.”
More sniffles.
“Quinn?”
“She’s my best friend, Gage. This is serious. She’s in jail!” she wails. Between sobbing and deep breaths, she adds, “She didn’t kill her. I know it. Can’t you do something? Can’t you investigate more? Because I promise you, Gage. Tayler. Didn’t. Do it.”