Murderous Heart

by Lynne Waite Chapman

  Anita flicked on her flashlight and aimed it to the ground ahead of us as she picked up the pace. I tagged along, keeping close behind.

  A dog barked in the next yard. I jumped and stifled a scream when a door opened at that house. Both Anita and I hit the ground, holding our breath until the dog was called inside and the door closed.

  We breathed a joint sigh of relief, and got to our feet. Crouching low, we made our way to Utkin’s sliding patio door.

  I grabbed the handle. Locked. “Shoot. Now how do we get in?”

  “Hold on, I got this.” A low rumble sounded in the distance and a glimmer of lightning illuminated Anita digging into her pocket. Her hand came out with the screwdriver. She shoved her flashlight into my hand, hissing, “Shine it on the lock.”

  Raindrops began to fall, and I hunched my shoulders against the chill. The beam of the flashlight wavered in my trembling hand. But my friend seemed calm as she fiddled with the latch. A loud click sounded when the mechanism popped open.

  My jaw dropped. “How did you know how to do that?”

  She slid the door open and whispered. “I had brothers. I made them show me how to do stuff in return for not tattling to Mom about their escapades.”

  We stepped inside and gently pulled the door closed. Then reality struck. This was a break-in. My feet became anchored to the floor. My legs wouldn’t respond to commands. Why had I returned to the house where I’d found a corpse? What if a murderer lurked in the shadows? Even worse, were the police watching the house? I twisted to look longingly through the glass door. Should we run back through the yard to the minivan?

  Anita had moved on. “Let’s go.”

  I took deep breaths to calm the erratic beating of my heart. After a minute I found I could edge one foot forward, and then the next.

  My friend seemed to have no problem moving. The pool of light from her flashlight moved toward the bedrooms, so I followed. Her whisper came in the dark. “Turn on your flashlight. No one will see it. Just keep it aimed low so it won’t show through the windows.”

  When did she become so savvy at sleuthing? And how long had I been such a coward?

  “You’ve been reading detective novels haven’t you?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I thought you liked romance.”

  “Mystery’s my new thing.”

  Anita turned left, off the hallway. I turned to the right, into a room I remembered as the master bedroom. That was the room likely to hold the clues, if there were any to be found.”

  Thunder rumbled outside as I moved to the dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer. If I had anything to hide, I’d put it there. Not in the upper drawers where it would be disturbed while I was getting dressed every day. The drawer was filled with folded slacks and sweat pants. I slid my hand underneath. Nothing. That was disappointing. I glanced around the dark room and chills ran up my spine. Common sense told me we should get out before someone discovered us.

  The wise side of my personality told me to call Anita, and to tell her this was crazy, we should leave. The other side of that fickle personality remembered she’d been so excited. How could I make her give up after only a few minutes? We were in the house. Had already committed the crime. I returned to the drawer, pulling out the slacks one at a time. Half way through the stack, I found it.

  A book lay hidden between the layers. My breath came a little faster. This would be the clue we’d hoped for. I sat on the floor with the book on my lap and began turning pages. It was a scrapbook, but nothing like I’d expected.

  Anita’s spot of light entered the room. “There wasn’t anything over there. How are you doing?”

  I tried not to sound as giddy as I felt. “This photo album was in the drawer. She had hidden it in the middle of the clothes.”

  Anita directed her light at the book. “Are there pictures of her family? Any names?”

  “No names that I’ve found. And I don’t think these are family photos. It looks like Valentina did a lot of dating. At least I assume this is her. Hard to be sure, since this woman is healthy. I didn’t see her body, but from Clair’s description—”

  “Stop. I don’t need to hear the description again.”

  “Right.”

  I concentrated on the album. Each photo featured an attractive dark-haired woman snuggled up to a man. In almost every photo she wore formal attire. Her long hair was pulled into a severe chignon in some pictures and lay loosely on her bare shoulders in others. Low-cut gowns revealed ample cleavage.

  “It’s the same woman, but a different man in every snapshot. They all seem to be very friendly. These were definitely not business lunches. If this is Valentina, we needn’t have worried about her being lonely. She seems to have had an active social life.”

  Anita lowered herself to the floor beside me and took over paging through the book. “Can’t say she didn’t enjoy life. There’s one of her on the beach. Her bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?” She flipped to another page and moved her light closer. “Uh-oh. Look at that one.”

  I caught my breath. “It sure looks like Perry.” Our classmate and the woman were seated close enough together to confirm they were more than casual acquaintances. The table in front of them was covered with a white table cloth and set with fine china plates filled with food. They held crystal wine glasses.

  “It doesn’t look like they’re discussing the housing market. Do you recognize the restaurant? Way too fancy for anyplace in Evelynton.”

  “No, definitely out of town.” Anita tapped her flashlight on Perry’s picture. “Well, that big liar. It’s obvious he knew Valentina Utkin much better than he said. They’re on a date, and he’s a married man. Shame on him.”

  I leaned back against the bed and let my flashlight lay on the floor. “That’s discouraging. I’d like to think marriages were secure in this quiet little town, even for a flirt like Perry. I guess not.”

  “Now we know why he suddenly remembered he had to go to work, when we questioned him about Valentina.” Anita twisted toward me. “You don’t think he had anything to do with her death?”

  “Not Perry. He’s sort of creepy, but I can’t believe he’s a killer. There’s something else going on here. How could she date so many different men? Why would she keep all their photographs? It looks like a trophy case.”

  My friend flicked off her flashlight. “That’s what it is. She was a serial dater. Addicted to love. And if she fooled around with this many men, someone had a motive for murder.”

  The room lit up with a flash of lightning, followed by a clash of thunder. Then everything went dark again. All we heard was the sound of rain beating on the roof.

  I turned my head toward Anita but could only see her eyes glistening in the dark. “Wait, we don’t know that she was murdered. It could have been a natural death or suicide.”

  “You’re right. Dating all these men would certainly have given me a heart attack.” Anita switched on her light, directed it to the book, and turned the page. “Oh, he’s cute.”

  “Hmm. He looks sort of familiar. Do you know him?”

  “No, but he looks like someone famous. Probably has one of those faces that always looks familiar.”

  I flipped through a few more pages. “There must be a couple hundred photographs. It’s a book filled with this woman’s dating life.” I slammed it shut. “The police need to see it. Let’s put it back where I found it and let them discover it. We can’t let on we were here.”

  “They’ve already been through the house. What if they’re finished? How are we going to get them to find it?” Anita paused for a moment. “Maybe you can tell them you saw it in a dream.”

  “Right. I’m sure they’d run right over. They already think I’m a nut-case.”

  “I know. That’s why I thought of it.” She stifled a giggle.

  Rumbling continued outside. I glanced at Anita. Short flashes of lightning illuminated the room enough to see her face for a few seconds eac
h time. “I don’t even want this book in my possession. You know if Officer Farlow had his way I’d be in jail.”

  “That’s true. What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know. We can’t walk in and tell them we know there is a photo album in the dead woman’s dresser. And ‘No sir, we didn’t break in, we just had a feeling.’”

  The thunder grew louder.

  The light from Anita’s flashlight left the book. I twisted to see what she was doing and was met with a monstrous face with dark, elongated features. I swallowed a scream before I noticed my friend had aimed the light upward under her chin. The shadows transformed her pleasant face into something no one would want to see on a dark night.

  “You nearly scared me to death.” I flashed my light around the room. “This place is spooky. Let’s put this book back where I found it and get out of here.”

  Anita kept her light shining under her chin and stuck out her tongue. “Let’s take it and shove it into a mailbox, addressed to the police. That way they wouldn’t be able to connect us to it.”

  “That’s an idea, but the book’s too big for a mailbox.” I replaced half the clothing, placed the photo album on top, and covered it with the remaining clothes. After giving the drawer a firm push, I stood up. “Let’s go. We can talk when we’re safely back in the car.”

  I led the way down the hallway and through the living room. We pushed the sliding door shut and Anita stuck the screwdriver into the lock once again. The lock clicked.

  “How did you do that? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  The rain pelted us as we made our way through the yard. Clumps of my hair came loose from the ponytail and clung to my face. Water dripped from my nose and chin. I kept the flash-light pointed to the ground and picked up speed, trotting until I had to stop at the hedge. Anita, who’d been following close behind, slammed into my back propelling both of us into the bushes.

  She erupted into giggles. “Wish we had a video of this. It would be hilarious.”

  “Shush!”

  As I picked my way through the branches Anita grabbed my sleeve. “Do you think any of these homes have security cameras?”

  Crap.

  I froze and peeked out from the middle of the hedge. Wiping my hand over my face to clear the rain from my eyes, “Hard to tell. I can barely see the houses. Just keep the light to the ground and let’s get out of here.” We ducked our heads and ran for the minivan.

  I slammed the door. “Turn on the heat. My teeth are chattering and there isn’t a dry spot on my body.”

  “As soon as the motor warms up.” Anita turned on the ignition, backed out of the drive, and started down the street. We’d barely traveled half a block before she slammed on the brake, sending me against the dash. “Poor Marlene. I hate the thought of her hearing about Perry’s indiscretion from the police. Or worse, the newspaper. We should have confiscated that picture. Let’s go back and get it.” She shifted into reverse and twisted in her seat, to back up.

  “Stop!” I grabbed the wheel. “We can’t do that. For one thing, it would be tampering with the evidence—more than we already have. Second, do you want to leave a trail of wet footprints all the way through the house?”

  Anita gazed down at the puddle around her feet. “You’re right. We can’t do it now. Wish I’d thought about it sooner.”

  She shifted into drive again. “I’ll dry off and come back when the rain stops.”

  “Don’t even think about it. It’s too late. Promise me you won’t break into that house again.”

  “Okay.”

  “I didn’t detect real agreement in that answer. Promise.”

  “Alright, I promise I won’t go back into the house.”

  “Good. Let’s go home.”

  Anita was quiet as she drove—probably thinking of ways to get out of her promise.

  I considered methods to reveal the new evidence without running the risk of prison time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I splashed up the steps and pushed the front door open, pausing to catch my breath while rain water settled around my feet. Mason pussyfooted toward me, finally sitting back on his haunches to give me a reproachful stare.

  “I can’t help it. It’s pouring outside.”

  I slid out of my shoes and ran for the bedroom, where I stripped off the soggy clothes. The first thing I found in my closet, that was dry and warm, was my oldest set of baggy sweats. Also, my favorite for sitting around the house. They weren’t particularly attractive, but couldn’t be more cozy.

  On my way to the kitchen, I grabbed a towel and scrubbed at my hair to blot the moisture. After depositing the wet towel into the laundry basket, I searched the pantry for something to warm my frigid insides. I kept a box of cocoa on the shelf for just such occasions.

  Mason sat at my feet and glared while I waited for the milk to steam, so I stooped to look him in the eyes. “Alright, what I did tonight probably wasn’t my best idea. Not even close. We could have been caught. But I don’t think anyone saw us, and we found some interesting information. Very likely evidence that could lead to the person who killed Valentina Utkin. If only I could figure out how to give it to the police without telling them how I found it.”

  The milk was hot so I stood and stirred in the cocoa. A rapping at the door caused both of us to jump. Mason recovered quickly, and pranced toward the door with his tail held high.

  “Wait, I don’t know if I want to answer it. Who could it be on a night like this?” Mason turned his eyes to me and purred. “So it’s someone you like? Anita must have come back to help me decide what to do with the new information. Or to convince me to go back for Perry’s picture, which is out of the question.”

  I reached the door and pulled it open without bothering to check the window. “Guess I should have made more hot chocolate.”

  Oops. I stood face-to-face with Jack Spencer, the man Clair still called Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome—with good reason. We’d had an on and off dating relationship. More off than on, since he lived two hours away.

  An image of my towel blotted, but uncombed, hair flashed through my mind. Oh crap. “Jack. Um, hi. Come in. I didn’t know you were in town.” I stepped back to let him pass, waiting until his back was turned to rake my fingers through my hair.

  “Hey. Sorry it’s so late. I should’ve given you a heads-up, but this was last minute.”

  I’d always been a sucker for a deep manly voice, and his warmed my heart faster than any hot chocolate could. That’s what I was thinking while Jack waited for a response. Receiving none, he continued. “I’m in town for a quick visit with Wallace and have to get back to the city right away, but I didn’t want to leave without at least saying hello.”

  It dawned that I would have to say something to the man. “I’m glad you did. You’re welcome to stop by anytime. I’m always happy to see you.”

  And as soon as you walk out the door, I promise I’m burning these ugly sweats.

  Jack stood in the living room with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry for barging in. Did I interrupt your shower?”

  I ran my hand through my hair. “Oh, no. I got caught in the rain. Anita and I were… Um, not important. I just got home.”

  Suddenly remembering the mug of cocoa in my other hand. “Isn’t this the perfect night for hot chocolate? Would you like a cup? All the ingredients are out, so all I have to do is warm the milk.”

  “Thanks. That sounds good, but I have to be on the road. I had a case in the next county and talked to Wallace on the phone. He sounded under the weather, so I swung over to see him. He seems fine now.”

  “Has he been sick? I didn’t know.”

  “I guess not. He says he’s been fine. My mistake. But while I was here I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed our dinner. I meant to call sooner. Time got away from me. What’s it been? A couple of weeks?”

  Four. It’s been four weeks.

  “Has it been that long? I didn’t realize.”


  Jack continued. “You must think I’m a jerk. The fact is, getting my consulting business up and running has been more time-consuming than I expected.”

  “I understand completely. It must require all your time. And I never thought of you as a jerk.”

  The thought might have crossed my mind. But only once.

  “With this new business, I don’t have the time to devote to anyone, even someone as special as you are. You deserve better. But I’d like to remain friends.”

  “Of course. I’m not ready for a serious relationship either. Still trying to get my life together after moving back to Evelynton.”

  Water dripped off my nose, and I slapped at a drop trickling down my neck.

  Smile lines crinkled at the corners of Jack’s chocolate brown eyes. “I won’t keep you. Better let you get back to drying off before you catch cold.”

  He took a step past me and grabbed the door knob. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  I wiped drops from my face. “Have a safe trip back to the city. Stop by anytime.”

  Before I knew it, he’d jogged across the lawn to his car.

  I whispered, “Good night.” and closed the door.

  Back in the bathroom for another towel, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. It looked like I’d smeared charcoal under my eyes. “Yikes. Cat, why did you let me answer the door? You led me to believe it was safe.”

  I directed Mason’s attention to the mirror, and demanded, “Look at me, I’m a mess. It’s quite obvious I’m not ready for a serious relationship. Can’t even receive an unexpected guest with dignity.”

  With the towel wrapped firmly around my head, I plopped onto the sofa with my now lukewarm mug of cocoa. Mason took possession of my lap, curled up, and was soon drifting off to sleep. Living alone—with my cat—wasn’t a bad thing. At least I didn’t have to worry about my appearance all the time. And I liked my comfy sweats.