by Casey Mayes
“What is it?”
She produced a photo album, and the second I saw the cover, I knew what it held. “You still have that?”
“Are you kidding? The photographic chronicles of the two musketeers is never far from my side.”
We moved to the couch and started leafing through the past, amazed that the two silly girls in the pictures were now the women sitting side by side reliving cherished segments of their lives.
THE DOORBELL RANG, AND JENNY LEFT ME TO GET IT. A troubled look crossed her face for just an instant, and it was gone so quickly I wasn’t even sure I’d really seen it. “I hope that’s our pizza.”
“I can’t wait. I’m starving,” I said.
She came back a minute later, but there was no box in her hands.
“Where’s the food?”
“I’ve got something better,” she said with a smile, and Zach suddenly appeared. Without a word between us, we rushed together, and he wrapped me up in his arms. I held onto him a great deal longer than I usually did. It was as if I were pulling strength from him for my soul. I couldn’t explain it if I had to, but I could swear his energy transferred to me, and I felt myself growing stronger, calmer, and more able to deal with what I was going to have to face.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said softly.
“There’s no other place I’d want to be,” he answered. The doorbell rang again, but I barely noticed as Jenny left the room.
“I’m sorry I’ve gotten myself into this jam,” I said.
“Don’t worry,” Zach replied as he brushed a little lock of hair from my face. “We’ll fix it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“You’ve got me on your side, and having Jenny in your corner will help, too. It’s going to be all right.”
“I hope that’s true, but forgive me if I don’t fully believe it just quite yet.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Leave the faith part up to me.”
Jenny came back into the room and said, “I hate to interrupt, but the pizza’s here.”
“Never apologize for feeding me,” Zach said. He spied the large size of the box, and then asked, “There is enough to share, isn’t there?”
“We were hoping you’d make it in time to eat,” I said.
“Excellent. I’m so hungry I could eat the box.”
“Then if you’re good, we’ll let you,” Jenny said.
As we sat down at the table and got started, Zach asked Jenny, “Do you mind a little shoptalk while we eat?”
“I don’t, if Savannah doesn’t,” she said.
“I can hardly complain since you two are trying to keep me out of jail, now can I?”
Zach nodded. “Tell me everything then, and try not to leave anything out, no matter how mundane it might seem.”
I took a bite of pizza, added a sip of Coke, and then began to relay everything that had happened that day. The pizza was soon forgotten as my husband and my old college roommate started listening, and soon began taking notes. Neither asked me any questions as I went, allowing me to focus on the narrative, though I knew I’d be peppered with queries as soon as I finished. I recounted my conversation with word scramble creator Brady Sims, the reaction that bridge columnist Sylvia Peters had when she’d stormed out of her meeting, and the way Kelsey Hatcher had discovered me leaning over Derrick’s body. Once I was through, Zach looked through his notes and began asking questions. I did my best to answer, but mostly I didn’t know.
“Who else haven’t we discussed yet would want to see him dead?” he asked at one point.
“I have no idea,” I replied.
“Savannah, I’ve heard you complain about the man enough in the past to know that’s not true. There was a business partner of his at one time, wasn’t there?”
I nodded. “Yes. It was Frank Lassiter. Evidently Derrick drove him out of their land development partnership just before the company struck it big. The only way I knew about it was Derrick’s bragging. Could he have had something to do with it? He lives in Richmond, as far as I know.”
“Richmond is just a few hours away,” Jenny said. “It would be easy enough for him to drive here, murder Derrick, and then get back across state lines before anyone even realized that he was gone.”
“How about the women in his life?” Zach asked.
“Derrick has a wife, but that’s about all I know about her. I think her name is Terry, or Cary, or something like that.”
“Do you think he fooled around on her?” Jenny asked.
I looked at her and shook my head. “What makes you ask that?”
“Hey, I’ve been an attorney long enough to realize that most men are dogs at one time or another in their lives.”
“Not Zach,” I said.
When he didn’t answer, I looked at him and asked, “Right?”
“What? Oh, right. No, I’m not a dog. But that doesn’t mean Derrick wasn’t. It’s an angle worth pursuing.”
“When did you get so cynical?” I asked Jenny.
“I’m not sure if it’s that, or if I’m just being realistic. I’ve seen some pretty dark things over the years, especially lately.”
“I hope it’s not spoiling you for a chance at finding love.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not there yet.” She looked over at Zach, and then added, “I’ve got to say, you’re not bad at interviewing people.”
He smiled at her. “Thanks. It’s not my first time.”
“I know it’s not, but that still doesn’t mean it’s not impressive. I picked up a few things myself.”
“Glad I could help. I don’t envy the detective working this case. There appears to be a lot of angles to follow up on.”
“Are you going to offer the police here your help?” I asked.
“Not directly, not with my ties to the case. But I am going to ask some questions, and maybe see if I can point them in some other directions. I called the station on the way over here, but the lead detective was out, and they aren’t expecting him back until morning.” Zach looked at Jenny. “Do you know anything about this Murphy fellow?”
Jenny and I exchanged glances and then she recounted much the same story about the detective to Zach that she had told me.
He shook his head. “That might make things a little stickier, but we’ll work something out.”
My husband stifled a yawn, and then said to me, “We’d better find a hotel room before I fall asleep at the table.”
“We’re staying here,” I told him.
“We don’t want to put you out,” Zach told Jenny.
“Nonsense. I’ve already settled this with Savannah. Don’t make me start with you.”
He held up his hands. “Then I give in. Just point me in the right direction.” Zach turned to me. “Are you coming, Savannah?”
“No, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll stay up a little while longer and catch up with Jenny.”
“Suits me just fine,” he said as he gave me a quick kiss and then disappeared into the guest room.
After he was gone, Jenny said, “Maybe you’re right after all.”
“Of course I am,” I answered. “About what?”
She laughed. “Perhaps I’m letting the people I deal with on a daily basis cloud my perception about the world around me.”
“I said that?”
She nodded. “You did.”
“Wow, I sound really smart when you say it.”
Jenny grinned. “Come on. We both know you have to be sharp to create those puzzles of yours. I have a tough time finishing them most days.”
“You do my puzzles?”
“Absolutely,” she answered. “They’re a nice way to unwind at the end of the day.”
“I’m honored,” I said, “But don’t give me too much credit. Sometimes I think they’re easier to make than they are to solve.”
“I suppose that makes sense. After all, you’ve got all of the answers, don’t you?”
“If only life were l
ike that.”
She patted my arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”
“I hope so.” I stifled a yawn. “In the meantime, I think I’d better join my husband.”
“That’s not a bad idea. We have a big day tomorrow.”
“What do you have planned?”
“Well, seeing some of the local sights is out. I thought we might do a little digging into Derrick Duncan’s life and see what we turn up. What do you say to that?”
“I’m all for it.”
Chapter 5
THE NEXT MORNING, I FOUND JENNY AT THE KITCHEN table drinking a cup of coffee and looking through the newspaper.
“You’re a star,” she said as she handed me the front page.
I took it and scanned the headline. SYNDICATOR SLAYING A REAL PUZZLE, it said on the front page of the Local section. There was a blown-up photo of Derrick, and below the fold, I was appalled to find headshots of Brady Sims, Sylvia Peters, and me.
“Don’t you love how clever they can be with their headlines,” I said as I handed the paper back to her.
“Wake that husband of yours up and I’ll make us all some breakfast.”
“I’d love to, but he was already gone when I got up,” I said.
“Is he always such an early bird?”
“When he’s working on a case, he barely sleeps at all. Since I’m involved in this, I was surprised he even closed his eyes.”
“It must be nice having him on your side.”
“It is, but it’s great having you there, too. Tell you what. Why don’t I cook for us this morning? It’s the least I can do.”
“Are you saying you don’t like my cooking?” she asked.
“That depends. Have you had any more chance to practice since the last time I stayed with you?”
“Hey, I’ve been trying to make partner. There wasn’t exactly a lot of time to take any cooking classes.”
“I’m not complaining, I’m just offering my services.”
“Then I’ll gladly accept. How about some blueberry pancakes?”
“Do you have the ingredients?” I asked as I headed for the refrigerator.
“I just happened to lay in some supplies yesterday,” she said with a smile.
I laughed as I started measuring the flour and other ingredients and mixing the batter. As I worked, we talked about our plans for the day.
“I don’t see any way around it,” Jenny said as the first pancake hit the griddle. “We have to go to Richmond to Derrick’s home base if we’re going to learn anything about him.”
“I’m guessing Detective Murphy isn’t going to be too thrilled about me leaving town, let alone the state.”
“I could go on my own,” Jenny offered.
“I don’t think so. There’s no way I’m going to put you in jeopardy for my sake.”
“You’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”
I flipped the pancake when tiny bubbles started to form in the batter. “Of course I would.”
“Then it’s not fair to try to keep me from doing the same.” She leaned over and looked at the single pancake browning on the griddle. “Why just one?”
“I always do a test pancake first,” I said.
“Does that mean I can’t have it?”
“It might not be very good,” I admitted. “Sometimes the first ones are real duds.”
She held out her plate. “I’ll take my chances.”
I grabbed a few small pancakes myself as I cooked the rest of the batter, and we were still chatting about our investigation when there was a knock at the front door.
Zach came in, smiling as he smelled the pancakes. “Any chance there are some left for me?”
“I might be able to scrape up enough batter,” I admitted. “You didn’t even leave me a note this morning.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure where I’d be. I found out something interesting, though.”
“What’s that?”
“Feed me first, and then I’ll talk.”
I did as he asked, and after he finished three large pancakes—and the last of the batter—he said, “First off, Murphy’s not a bad cop.”
“I never said that he was,” Jenny answered. “Just a bad boyfriend.”
“Be that as it may, he was willing to open up a little with me.” Zach pointed to me as he added, “You’re no longer their only suspect, if that means anything to you.”
“But I’m still on the list,” I said.
“Hey, I’m good, but nobody’s that good. At least he’s looking beyond the obvious now. I went over our list with him, and he seemed open to it. As a matter of fact, I found out someone else we should be looking at.”
Jenny appeared to have a hard time believing that. “Shawn actually gave you a lead?”
“Not exactly, but I spotted a name on his bulletin board, and there was a line tying it directly to Derrick. Savannah, does the name Mindi Mills mean anything to you?”
“No, why? Should it?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out.” He glanced over at the bowl that had once held blueberry pancake batter and saw that it was empty. “No more?”
“No more,” I agreed. “Sorry.”
“I’ve probably had enough, anyway,” he said as he kept staring at the bowl.
Jenny asked, “What now? Savannah and I have been thinking about going to Richmond to see what we can dig up on Derrick.”
“That’s the right idea, but the wrong execution.”
“What do you mean?”
Zach said, “I’m going myself as soon as I grab a few things, but you two have to stay in town.”
“Why do you get to go?” I asked. “You shouldn’t do it alone.”
“Think about it. There’s a good chance Murphy’s going to have an eye on you, but I’m not a suspect in anything. It’s just a few hours’ drive from here. I’ll be back tonight, and then we can compare notes.”
“If you go to Richmond, what are we supposed to do?”
“From what I understand, your fellow columnists are still in town. I suggest you talk to Brady Sims and Sylvia Peters and see just how much they hated Derrick Duncan. Can you do that?”
“Yes, but I still don’t like the idea of you going off on your own.”
My dear husband frowned at me. “Savannah, believe it or not, I’m perfectly capable of watching out for myself.”
I patted his chest where the scar from a bullet remained, but I didn’t say a word.
“That was a fluke, and we both know it,” he said.
“Flukes happen though, don’t they?”
He kissed me quickly, and then said, “You worry too much. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Call me when you get there,” I said.
“Yes, ma’am. I promise.”
After he was gone, I looked at the dirty dishes. “We should do these before we go out.”
“Don’t you just love dishwashers,” Jenny said as she loaded hers up. “The griddle can wait. Why don’t you get dressed, and then we’ll go do a little snooping.”
WHEN WE WALKED OUT OF JENNY’S HOUSE, SOMETHING fell through the door onto her welcome mat. It was a half dozen roses, bloodred and in full bloom.
“It looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” I said, and then I saw Jenny’s frightened face. “Hey, I was just kidding. Are you all right?”
She stared at the flowers, and then at me, before she burst into tears.
“What is it?” I asked her as I led her back inside.
“He’s back,” she said through her tears. “I thought this nightmare was over, but it was too good to be true.”
“Tell me what’s been happening,” I asked as I handed her a nearby box of tissues.
“It started a month ago,” she said once she calmed down enough to speak again. “The first thing I got was a note.”
“What did it say?”
“Hang on, I’ve got it in the other room.” A few seconds later she came back with an orange folder. As she
took a note wrapped in cellophane from it, she said, “Read it yourself.”
I picked it up and read.
Why don’t you wear your red blouse anymore?
Red’s my favorite color.
Do yourself a favor and wear the blouse, Jennifer.
“That’s creepy,” I said.
“Wait. There’s more. I didn’t wear the blouse, I couldn’t, since I’d given it away. The next note was even stranger.
Wear the blouse.
You don’t want to make me mad.
“Did you call the police?”
“I phoned Shawn Murphy, as a matter of fact. He said it was probably just some random kook, but the guy knew my name, what I drove, and even where I lived. Shawn said he’d keep an eye out on my place, and he had a few cruisers come by to check on me, but they never saw anything.”
“What did you do? You must have been scared to death.”
“I’m ashamed to admit it, but I went out and bought another red blouse. I thought that might be enough to get him to leave me alone.”
“Did it work?”
“Judge for yourself. Here’s the last note I got from him.”
Close, but not quite.
It’s just not the same, is it?
I’m through warning you, Jennifer.
“Needless to say, the police stepped up their patrols, and Shawn suggested I trade my car and move, but I wasn’t about to let this creep win. I tried my best to forget what had happened and I threw the blouse away.”
“You must have been petrified.”
“Savannah, at that point, I was angry more than anything else. I hung a sign on my car door that said, ‘I’m done with you,’ and I went about my business. When I didn’t hear from him again, I figured it was over. And then I saw those roses, and my name on the card.”
“What does it say?” I asked as I reached for it.
She pulled it away from me. “There might be fingerprints, though he’s been careful so far. Let me.”
She pulled out a pair of latex gloves, slipped them on, and then opened the card. Inside, something fluttered to the ground, and Jenny’s face went pale as she said, “It’s part of my blouse. The one I threw away. How did he get it?”
“What’s on the card?” It was killing me not knowing.