The Dead Chill

by Linda Berry

  The crowd was so intensely focused on Granger, no one noticed when the door opened, and Darnell and Tommy walked in.

  Granger raised a hand for silence and the voices lowered in volume. “Look, we don’t know all the details yet. We’re trying to piece together the time of her death. If you know of someone who may have wanted to hurt Nikah, or if you’ve seen any suspicious activity around her house, please talk to us. We want to find her killer as much as you do.” Granger nodded toward Darnell and Tommy. “Officer Wood and I will need statements from each one of you.”

  Heads turned towards Darnell, and Selena felt an icy chill move like a wave over the crowd. One minute everyone was talking, curious, eager to help. The next, their expressions went blank and they drifted back to their tables and seats at the bar. The band climbed back on stage and started packing their equipment.

  “What just happened?” Granger said.

  She shrugged one shoulder, stumped. “Darnell’s uniform?”

  Darnell joined the band up on stage and they reluctantly gathered around him.

  A couple at one of the tables put on coats and hats.

  Granger made a detour to their table. “We need a statement from you.”

  “We need to leave,” the young man said. “My grandma’s babysitting. She expects us home.”

  “Just a few questions,” Granger said. “Please take your seats.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SIDNEY BEGAN RIFLING through articles of clothing on the floor, looking for bloodstains or evidence of a struggle. Nothing. Her eyes fell on the heating vent on the floor, now visible with the last of the garments moved away. She lifted the metal cover and aimed her flashlight into the dark interior. Something reflective caught her eye. Sidney pulled out a tin box and lifted the lid. Adrenalin coursed through her system. Bonanza!

  Inside were a packet of one hundred dollar bills, and a key to a safety deposit box with an attached tag with numbers printed on it. The last item was a silver medallion on a thin leather strap, engraved with an unfamiliar symbol. The design had three interconnected spirals with no open ends, creating one continuous line. The finish was worn and tarnished. The medallion could be decades, or a century old.

  Amanda appeared in the doorway, looking alert and enthusiastic. “I’m finished with the front rooms. Thought I’d bag those sheets.” Her gaze rested on the box in Sidney’s hands. “Find something?”

  “A few thousand greenbacks. And a key to a safety deposit box. Hidden in the heating vent.”

  Amanda whistled. “Youzer! Must be what the thieves were after. Wonder what’s in the deposit box. More money? Drugs?”

  “That would be my guess. This is the only thing of value I’ve come across.”

  “What’s that? A medallion?”

  “Nope.”

  Sidney made a mental note to have Darnell, an IT expert, get into Nikah’s records and find out the state of her finances. Sidney rubbed her eyes and involuntarily touched the bandage on her head. The point of impact still throbbed. She put the wad of bills in an evidence bag and handed the box to Amanda. “Dust this stuff for prints. We need to know who the recipient was. Nikah or Lancer.”

  “My fingers are feeling nimble tonight.”

  The bathroom was spotless. Not a hair in sight. In a drawer was one comb, one brush, and minimal makeup. Nikah lived like a nun. The medicine cabinet held a bottle of aspirin, toothpaste, moisturizer, and a glass holding two toothbrushes. Why two? Had someone been a regular houseguest? Lancer? Sidney slipped both toothbrushes into evidence bags.

  The kitchen proved to be just be as spotless. Glistening countertops, gleaming sinks. Items in each drawer were separated by dividers, pots and pans were stacked neatly with handles facing in the same direction, and canned and boxed food were lined up uniformly with all labels facing outward. Military precision.

  From the tidy broom closet, Sidney found a receipt in a folded grocery bag dated three days ago from the General Store. Friday, 7:48 p.m. Among the items listed were linguini and a jar of tomato basil pasta sauce.

  This led Sidney to examine the contents of the fridge, which contained the usual household staples—milk, butter, cheese, eggs, produce—and a plastic container holding leftover pasta in tomato sauce. Inside the dishwasher was one dirty plate, a wine glass, and silverware, which suggested Nikah came home, cooked and ate dinner, and cleaned the kitchen. She was still among the living until 9:00 p.m. That put her time of death between late Friday night and Saturday morning.

  Sidney now had her first solid impressions of Nikah’s character. She was fastidious, organized, and budget minded. If she was going against the wishes of the village to see Lancer, a man who abused her, she was willful and secretive. Why didn’t she stand up to the elders? They had no right to tell her what to do. Then again, it might not be Lancer who was keeping her company.

  Sidney joined Amanda in the office, leafing through drawers of files and papers. The small room was modestly furnished with a desk, file cabinet, and standing safe; doors and drawers left open. Files were strewn across the floor. A slight bulge under the area rug caught Sidney’s eye. She pulled back one corner and discovered a short, cotton nightgown covered in bloodstains. She held it up. “Look at this.”

  Amanda’s mouth set in a hard, grim line. “Nikah met with violence.”

  “This is probably where she was killed.”

  As Amanda bagged the nightgown, Sidney studied the wooden floorboards and picked up a faint whiff of pine scented cleaner. “Someone scrubbed this area recently. Let’s get some Luminal on this.”

  Amanda grabbed a bottle from her kit and sprayed an even layer of Luminal over the floorboards. Sidney hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. A blue glow about three feet wide emitted from the suspect area, indicating the recent presence of blood. The highlighting effects of Luminal only lasted thirty seconds. Amanda acted fast, taking a long exposure photograph to capture the image.

  Sidney hit the switch and light burst back into the room. She heard Amanda’s intake of breath. “That’s a lot of blood loss.”

  “Yes, it is. Nikah may have been bludgeoned or stabbed, in addition to being strangled. She was fully dressed when we pulled her out of the creek, but this bloody nightdress suggests she was wearing it at the time of her attack.”

  “Why did the perp bother to dress her? That’s a lot of time and trouble. And why move her to the creek?”

  Sidney shrugged one shoulder, stymied. “Murderers aren’t rational. They exist in their own delusional world. Play by their own rules.” She stood in silence for a long moment, staring at the rug. “This rug looks like it belongs in a bathroom, not an office.”

  “I agree.”

  “I think her killer wrapped her in the original rug to carry her out of here.”

  “Seems likely.” Amanda frowned. “If the two burglars were Nikah’s killers, why didn’t they search the house the night of her murder? Why risk coming back?”

  Sidney sighed. “Nothing about murder is simple. This house needs to be processed with a fine-tooth comb. I’ll get Stewart over here to help you.” Sidney had just sentenced her junior officer to a long night of tedious overtime. “How’re you holding up?”

  “I’m okay.” Amanda smiled. The enthusiasm she had exhibited earlier had diminished, replaced by steely determination. “A mega-dose of caffeine would be helpful.”

  Sidney respected Amanda’s work ethic, which matched her own. “I’ll tell Stewart to bring a gallon of coffee.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SELENA POPPED a few roasted nuts in her mouth and washed down the taste of salt and oil with the cold beer. She surveyed the room with a bored expression, slyly observing the remaining patrons. Tommy sat solo at a table near the front door, half obscured by shadow, the light from a neon sign pulsing crimson on his face. After Darnell questioned the band, the female singer excused herself and headed to the back of the bar toward the restroom.

  Selena slipped out of he
r seat and followed her down the darkened hallway through the swinging door. The brightly lit restroom was empty except for the singer, and smelled faintly of disinfectant. The woman’s hands gripped the sides of the sink, and her long black hair shielded her face as she quietly sobbed.

  Selena stood at the next sink and turned on the water to announce her presence.

  The singer stifled a sob, lifted her mascara-stained face, and made an effort to compose herself. She splashed water on her face, pumped a few drops of soap onto her palm, and started washing off her thick makeup.

  Selena grabbed a few paper towels and handed them to her. “This will help.”

  The young woman took the towels, offered Selena a feeble smile, and started wiping the makeup from her eyes.

  Biding her time, Selena poked around in her handbag, pulled out a lip-gloss and ran it over her lips, then tugged a brush through her long blonde hair.

  The singer scrubbed away the blush, then the lipstick. It was like peeling off a mask. After stripping away the illusion of age the singer looked as fresh-faced as an ingénue. Nikah’s age. A fragile vulnerability replaced the hard brassiness of the woman who had dominated the stage.

  Selena pulled out a small tube of moisturizer. “This will soothe your skin. That industrial soap is harsh.”

  “You could strip paint with it. Thanks.” She used her index finger to spread the cream over her pretty face. She met Selena’s gaze in the mirror with a certain apprehensiveness. “Are you Granger’s girlfriend?”

  Selena smiled. “We’re dating.”

  “He’s a nice guy. Comes in here a lot.”

  “So I’m finding out. I’m Selena.”

  “I’m Cadence.”

  “Perfect name for a singer.”

  “My parents are musicians.” Cadence tossed the used paper towels in the trash bin and turned to face Selena, leaning against the sink. Silver-spider earrings dangled from her ears. “The drummer in the band is my twin brother, Cory.”

  “I see the resemblance.” Both had sensitive faces, finely arched brows, and angular cheekbones. Magenta streaks woven into Cadence’s black hair matched the color of her brother’s Mohawk. She had a musical voice, unlike the hoarse whiskey vocals she spewed on stage. “How fortunate to grow up with music.”

  “Understatement. Lived and breathed. We were trained in traditional Native American music. We both play flute, guitar, and drums.”

  “Very talented.”

  “We love hard rock. Mom says Cory and I are going through a rebellious stage and we’ll eventually come home to our roots.”

  “You think so?”

  “Not anytime soon. We’re revolutionaries,” she said passionately. “We have a message. We love what we do.”

  They were both quiet for a moment.

  “I’m so sorry about Nikah,” Selena said. “Looks like you two were very close.”

  “She was my best friend. My sister, really.” Cadence’s voice quivered and she bit her bottom lip. Her eyes were brilliant with tears. “We did everything together.”

  Feeling a piercing sadness for the young woman, Selena said with feeling, “Terrible to lose someone so close.”

  Cadence mumbled with a haunted look to her eyes, “I feel so guilty.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We were supposed to get together Friday night. Girl night. I ended up getting a date. I sent a text cancelling on her. She sent a text back saying she was really disappointed. That she really needed to talk to someone.” Tears spilled down Cadence’s cheeks and she knuckled them away. “I texted back saying I’d call in the morning. I did, but she didn’t pick up. I never heard back from her. Maybe if I hadn’t bailed…” her voice trailed to a whisper.

  “She’d still be alive?”

  Cadence nodded.

  “Her death is not on you,” Selena said softly. “If someone was determined to kill her, they’d find a way.”

  Cadence’s slender shoulders slouched and a tremor passed over them. “Guess that’s true.”

  “She didn’t return your call for two days,” Selena said. “Was that unusual?”

  Cadence wiped her eyes with trembling fingers. “Yes. We texted every day. I always knew where she was. I went by her house yesterday but no one was home. I figured her phone was dead for some reason, or maybe she was with…”

  Silence.

  “Lancer?” Selena finally offered.

  Cadence averted her eyes. “Yeah, maybe. Don’t know for sure.”

  “But she was seeing someone?”

  Cadence shrugged.

  Selena read determination in the girl’s compressed lips that were locking in a secret. She read anxiety, as well. “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt her?”

  The girl’s face tightened for a moment and a shadow of fear flickered over her face. She abruptly handed back the cream. “I’ve been in here too long. Gotta go help the band.”

  Selena gently touched her hand. “I know you want to help find Nikah’s killer. If you know something, tell me. I get it, you don’t trust cops, but whatever you tell me is confidential. The officers don’t need to know where it came from.”

  Cadence gave her a long, steady look. “It’s not the cops I’m worried about.”

  Selena peered into the young woman’s eyes, which had filled with a subtle but detectible agitation. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  Cadence glanced nervously toward the door. “I can’t talk here. Look, meet me in town tomorrow. Lava Java. 10:00.” She straightened her shoulders, put on a brave expression, and strode out the door.

  Selena waited a few moments before leaving. When she emerged, Tommy was standing just inside the hallway talking to Cadence. His hands gripped her upper arms, forcing her to meet his intense gaze.

  Selena slinked back into the shadows, chilled by a man holding a woman against her will. The memory of a killer gripping Selena in the woods bolted from the shadows of her mind. Her heartbeat began to thud in her ears. She fought to settle her mind, to focus on pulling herself back from the brink of a panic attack.

  “Leave me alone, Tommy!” The young woman jerked away and hurried back into the bar. Tommy stood stiffly in the doorway, watching her retreat.

  After a long moment, Selena stepped from the shadows and sauntered down the hallway.

  Tommy’s stony expression instantly softened, and he smiled.

  The charming, intelligent man she’d met earlier was back. But a darker facet of his character had been revealed, lowering her opinion of him. She forced a smile, walked past him, and took her seat at the bar. Why was Tommy reprimanding Cadence? Perhaps he had been monitoring her—monitoring the entire bar like a principle in a school hallway, keeping folks in line. Perhaps it was Tommy who had sent that icy chill over the crowd, not Darnell. Tommy had been taken into Granger’s confidence, and had been allowed to accompany them to the saloon to make folks feel easier. Perhaps he was having the opposite effect.

  To Selena’s chagrin, Tommy ambled over, took the seat next to her, and signaled to Kato. With a friendly nod, Kato uncapped two perspiring bottles of Corona and slid them across the counter. She had been hoping to engage Kato in conversation, but he quickly moved away and busied himself wiping glasses with a dishtowel.

  Selena lifted her bottle and scanned the bar while she sipped. The place had emptied. Granger was standing near the stage talking to the last of the patrons. Darnell was engaged with a couple at their table jotting in his notebook. The band members lumbered off the stage, lugging equipment out of a side door. Cadence disappeared with her brother, each carrying bulky drum cases.

  “How are you doing?” Tommy asked.

  “Not great. Not one of my best days.” She met his eyes. He watched her as he tipped back his bottle and drank. She sensed a strange power emanating from his dark eyes. A chill stippled her skin with gooseflesh. Her intuition was telling her something, a warning, but she couldn’t shape it into cohesive thought. To her relief, Darnell and Gran
ger finished up business and joined them at the bar.

  Kato slid chilled mugs of beer across the counter. “On the house.”

  “Thanks, man.” Smiling, Darnell gave a little salute, and took a gulp.

  Granger also took a gulp. “Man, that tastes good. But I’m on the job. Maybe just one more sip.” He lifted his mug, chugged a third of the beer, and pushed the mug away.

  “Me, too,” Darnell said, and took another gulp.

  “Get anything?” Tommy asked.

  “Not much,” Darnell said, “We know Nikah was alive Friday afternoon. No one saw her after that.”

  “For such a small community, it’s hard to believe no one saw or heard anything,” Granger said with a hint of sarcasm.

  Selena wanted to share the conversation she’d had with Cadence, but not while Tommy sat listening to every word. “Ready to roll?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Granger said. “First, I need to see how the chief is doing at Nikah’s place.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll make the call outside.”

  Selena appreciated his caution. Did he view Tommy’s presence as a detriment? She cast a furtive glance at the tall, lanky high school teacher. His face was expressionless, just sitting there, hardly moving, fingers relaxed around his beer bottle. Even though there was no discernible change, his presence had expanded, and she felt a tangible energy emanating from him. A power. She feared what was churning behind those dark, mysterious eyes.

  Granger walked back into the bar with a troubled expression.

  “What’s up?” Darnell asked.

  “The Chief and I need a ride to her Yukon. We’re going to head into town.” He looked at Tommy with an inscrutable expression. “Can you catch a ride home with Kato?”

  “No problem. He’s ready to close up shop.”

  Granger clasped Tommy’s outstretched hand. “Thanks for your help.”