“What does that have to do with us?”
She hesitated. “Mother left, Dad’s gone, Greg found Tina, and now Rhonda’s away for years. All the people I’ve loved and depended on aren’t here anymore. It’s a pattern I’ve pretty much come to expect.”
Lou gazed at her for what felt like a long time. “You think everyone you love will leave you sooner or later?”
She lowered her head. “Uh-huh.”
“And you believe Greg wouldn’t have hooked up with Tina if you’d been more attentive?”
“My behavior helped push him away, and yes, I know he was still in the wrong, but I just didn’t care about our relationship as much as I should have.”
Lou slumped back in his seat, a dazed look in his eyes. “I promised him I wouldn’t say anything. Even after we weren’t friends anymore, it seemed right to keep the promise. But if it affects our future, then screw it.” He sighed. “Tina wasn’t Greg’s first affair. There were at least two others.”
Casey wasn’t quite sure she’d heard right. “What?”
“The first was a one-night stand in Vegas; the second was here and lasted a couple of months, I think.”
Casey’s mouth fell open. “When?”
“The Vegas thing was about eight months after your wedding. The second was two years after that. Greg knew I wasn’t happy about what he was doing, so he stopped confiding in me. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more.”
“Eight months?” Casey stared at Greg’s back. “I wish you’d have told me a lot sooner.”
“He was my best bud, and I’d promised. Besides, I thought the truth would crush you.”
“It would have in the early days. Now it merely validates what I already knew. Leaving him was one of the best decisions I ever made.” She turned to Lou. “Now you know why I worry about putting all of my trust in one person. Things unravel, secrets come out, and people leave one way or the other.”
Lou peered into her eyes. “I get it, Casey . . . The truth about your parents, the tragedy of their deaths, and Rhonda, of course. It explains why I felt you were holding me at arm’s length sometimes.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
Lou nodded. “I wish I’d realized it sooner.” He paused. “You’ve been afraid I’ll bail because you think you’re incapable of truly committing.”
Casey nodded. “If that happened—” The words caught in her throat. “I’d be lost for good.” The tenderness in his gray eyes had her on the edge.
Lou slipped his arm around her shoulder. “It won’t happen.”
Aware that the twins were watching her again, Casey looked down. She hated feeling this vulnerable in front of them.
Lou kissed the back of her hand. “Even before this conversation, I realized I made a mistake and was going to ask, over dinner, if I could move in after all.”
Casey smiled. Relief surged through her. “You know you can.”
“How about I bring a bunch of stuff over tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. I’ll help.”
After the twins disembarked, Casey and Lou spent the trip back to Mainland’s yard discussing furniture arrangements. She no longer cared if her apartment would be a crowded mess. She wanted him there—ugly furniture, disco music, lava lamps, and all. It would work. She would make it work. Casey nestled against Lou, oblivious to everything except his lips on her cheek, until Greg hit the brakes hard when they pulled into the yard.
As she and Lou headed for the exit, Greg stood and said, “We’re moving out on December twentieth. Place will be clean by the thirty-first. That real estate lady put a sign on the lawn.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Ignoring Lou, Greg exited the bus. Lou gave Casey a long, passionate kiss.
“Let’s continue this at home,” she said. Casey flipped up her jacket hood to keep the rainy drizzle at bay.
“Do you need to write a report for Stan before we go?” Lou asked.
“Nothing happened tonight, so it can wait till the morning.”
While they strolled toward their vehicles, Casey yakked about moving plans until they stopped behind her Tercel. Lou’s pickup was parked four stalls down.
“Meet you at home,” she said, embracing him.
“Can’t wait.” Lou started toward his truck, then stopped abruptly. “What the hell?”
Casey’s car key hovered near her lock. “What?” She watched Lou edge toward her passenger door. “What is it?”
Casey hurried around the car and gasped at the sight of someone lying motionless on the ground.
THIRTY
CASEY’S STOMACH CLENCHED. THE PERSON, a man, was on his right side, face pushed up against the front tire, the lower half of his legs hidden under her car. In the greenish hue of the parking lot lights, the dark blotches on his jaw looked horrific. A gust of wind blew hair into Casey’s eyes.
“Who is he?” she asked. “Is he alive?”
“No.” Lou bent over and peered at the head. “His throat’s been cut. I’ve never seen this guy before. He’s not staff. Call 911.” He straightened up. “Oh shit! I’ve stepped in blood!”
Casey gaped at the motionless jean-clad legs, dark socks, and runners. His familiar haircut sent dread slithering down her back and made the air feel thinner, tougher to breathe.
“I need to see his face.”
She fetched her flashlight from the glove box. By the time she rejoined Lou, her lower back was clammy. When she shone the light on the victim’s head, the dark slit across his throat became alarmingly clear. The vacant eyes and bloodied chin made him look like a horror movie mannequin. She thought she knew who the victim was, yet she wanted more confirmation.
“Can you tell if he has a small gold hoop in his right ear?” she asked.
“Shine the light on his face a bit more,” Lou said, leaning over the body.
Casey held her breath until she heard Lou say, “Yeah, there’s an earring.”
She swallowed the bile rising in her throat and leaned against the rear fender. “It’s Eagle.”
“The Roadkill guy?”
“Yeah.” She looked away. “His real name was Andrew Wing.”
“Do you think another racer did this?”
“Maybe.”
Dominic Mancuso and Morris Mueller were the only hardcore members left. Casey tried to calm down and not jump to conclusions. Air. She needed more air. As she looked up and breathed deeply, her hood fell back. Rain sprinkled her face.
“Want me to make the call?” Lou asked.
“No, I’ll do it.” She removed her phone from her pocket but dropped it on the ground. As she picked it up, her arms felt heavy. Casey gazed at the six parked buses in the yard. At the far end of the yard, the garage was closed. No one was around, except for a few staff in the admin building.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Lou said, joining her.
“I’ll be okay.” She just needed to get a grip. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen a dead body before. Still, how had he ended up next to her damn vehicle?
The rain grew heavier, and another gust of wind swooshed through the lot. She listened to the traffic coming from Lougheed as it passed on the other side of the building. Everything sounded so ordinary. The depot looked as it did on any normal night, except nothing felt normal or safe.
“Casey, the killer knows what you drive and where you work; maybe where you live. I’m calling Summer,” Lou said.
“She’s having dinner at a friend’s. I told her I’d pick her up around nine.”
“It’s starting to pour. I’ll get the tarp and tape from my truck and cover this guy before the evidence is washed away.”
Casey called 911 and wiped the rain from her eyes as she spoke to a dispatcher. Too bad MPT headquarters was located in Burnaby, which was RCMP jurisdiction. She’d rather deal with the Vancouver Police, given everything that had happened. After she explained the situation to the dispatcher, she called Denver but got his voice mail. She left a message.
&nb
sp; Casey again glanced around the lot. A prickly sensation ran up her spine, and she hurried over to Lou. With the wind and the rain, she wouldn’t be able to hear footsteps until an assailant was almost on them.
“What if the killer’s still here, watching us?”
Lou scanned the lot. “I’m almost done.”
He duct taped the tarp to the roof of Casey’s vehicle. The tarp sloped down, creating a tent that didn’t touch the body. Once the bottom of the tarp was taped to the ground, Lou and Casey jogged toward the building entrance.
Casey glanced over her shoulder, half expecting a knife to come soaring at her. She tried to listen for footsteps and unusual sounds, but the rain was pounding too hard to hear much else. Once inside the admin building, Casey huddled against Lou and tried not to shake. He rubbed her back, but the shaking wouldn’t stop; probably wouldn’t any time soon. Eagle’s body had been left by her car for a reason.
The sound of heavy footsteps made her and Lou turn around.
“Why are you two still here?” Greg asked. He’d changed back into street clothes and was carrying a lunch pail.
“We’re leaving soon,” Lou answered. “Have a nice night.”
Scowling, Greg stomped outside, heading away from the Tercel.
“Do you think we should have told him?” Casey asked.
“No. He’s not parked near you and was with us when it happened.”
“What if the killer’s still nearby?”
“He’s not interested in Greg.”
No, not Greg. Casey’s cell phone rang. It was Denver.
“What’s this about a murder?” he asked.
After she told him, there was silence at the other end of the line. It made her feel even more on edge.
“Why was your vehicle targeted when Danielle’s the one on a vendetta?” Denver asked.
“Roadkill’s seen her in my car at least once, and Danielle doesn’t own a vehicle. Hell, she doesn’t even have a regular workplace.” Rain dripped from Casey’s bangs onto her face. “She’s moved out of her parent’s home, so I guess I’m easier to find.”
“Not good.”
No kidding. “You know what’s really bad?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Both of the guys who could have identified the driver who struck Beatrice Dunning have been murdered. Makes you wonder about the driver, doesn’t it? Maybe he’s taken to killing other racers with knives and pedestrians with cars. The guy’s a real psycho, Denver.”
“No argument here.”
“Because of Mueller’s connection to Clint’s Collision, my money’s on him.”
“Like I said before, don’t jump too far ahead. We still have other leads to follow.”
Two RCMP cruisers—lights flashing but without sirens—turned into the depot.
Casey’s rigid shoulders began to relax. “Did you or anyone else get anything useful from Eagle before this happened?”
“No.”
“Crap.” Did he die because he was going to talk? “The RCMP just showed up.”
“I’m en route. Will be there shortly.”
As Casey slipped the phone into her pocket, Lou’s eyes narrowed. “How did the killer know you’d be here tonight?”
“Good question.” Wiping raindrops from her forehead, she thought of her chat with Morris Mueller at the university two days ago. Had he decided to monitor her? Do a little investigating of his own?
One of Mainland’s newest and youngest drivers approached. Tall, skinny, and still plagued with acne, the kid looked like he should be heading for a high school basketball game rather than the driver’s seat of a bus.
The kid started to head outside when he spotted the cruisers. “What’s going on?”
“Hey, Avery. Are you starting or finishing a shift?” Lou asked.
“Just finished break. Why?”
“Did you happen to see or hear anything unusual in the parking lot before you went for your break?” Casey asked.
The kid looked from her to Lou and back again. “Did somebody key your car?”
“Nothing like that,” Casey replied, pointing toward her vehicle. “My Tercel’s over there, and I was just wondering if you saw anyone, or another vehicle, near it.”
Avery craned his neck and peered through the glass. “Sorry. Didn’t see anything.”
“Are you sure?” Casey replied. “A vehicle would have pulled up near my car within the past hour. It might have had a powerful engine.”
His eyes widened. “Wait, I heard something loud pull into the lot just after I stepped inside. I looked back and saw a pair of headlights, but that was all. Didn’t think much about it.”
“Could you tell if the vehicle was light or dark?” Lou asked.
Avery’s forehead crinkled, as if he was trying to remember. “Only saw the headlights.”
“Did you see it stop near my car?”
“Nope. What’s this about, anyway?”
Casey spotted two police officers lifting the tarp. A third officer circled her car. “Avery, what time did you start your break?”
He checked his watch. “Thirty-five minutes ago, and I’m late. Gotta roll, but if you’re looking for witnesses or something, you should talk to Benny Lee.” Avery pushed the door open. “When I was coming in, he was going home.”
Casey looked around. Benny’s SUV wasn’t in the lot. “Thanks, Avery.”
“No problem.” He stepped outside.
“Avery would have gone inside at about ten to eight,” Casey said to Lou. “You wouldn’t happen to know Benny’s home number, by any chance?”
“I’ll get it from dispatch.”
Lou hurried down the corridor as a Vancouver patrol car pulled into the lot. Denver stepped out and walked toward the tarp. Casey went outside to meet him. She flipped up her hood, but a wind gust blew it off. As she approached her car, an officer moved in front of her.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Casey Holland. I own the Tercel next to the victim.”
“Did you know the deceased?”
“Not really. We spoke briefly at a funeral about a month ago.” As Denver joined them, she said, “I do know Officer Denver Davies, here. In fact, I asked him to come by because this man’s death is likely connected to a series of hit and runs he’s been investigating.”
Denver nodded to the constable. The two men chatted privately for a moment, then the constable returned to Casey and said, “When did you discover the body?”
After providing a timeline, she told him what Avery had seen and mentioned that Benny Lee might have seen more. “We’re getting Benny’s phone number now,” she added.
The officer nodded and looked around. “Who else is on site?”
“A dispatcher, supervisor, and cleaners, plus a few drivers,” Casey answered. “Admin staff start leaving around four. Management would have left a couple of hours later, though sometimes one or two will stay late.”
The officer turned to his colleague. “We’ll need a list of everyone who was here from 7:00 PM until now, especially those scheduled to either arrive or leave during that time. We’ll also need to talk to the person in charge tonight.”
Lou jogged up beside Casey. “I called Benny. He was walking past your car on the way to his and saw a gray Dodge Neon idling behind the Tercel.”
Casey gripped Lou’s arm and looked at Denver. “Dominic Mancuso’s car.”
“Did he get a plate number?” Denver asked.
“No, but he thinks the driver was alone and didn’t see him get out of the vehicle. Benny was in a hurry to get home, so he didn’t pay much attention.”
“Did he tell you what time this would have been?” the RCMP officer asked.
“Ten to eight.”
As Lou gave the officer Benny’s phone number, Casey stepped closer to Denver.
“I don’t understand this,” she said. “Danielle confirmed that Mancuso had alibis for at least two of the hit and runs.”
Denver moved away and spoke into his radio
. In less than a minute, every cop in the Lower Mainland would be watching for Mancuso’s vehicle. Casey shook her head. That silly arrogant womanizer was a killer?
She approached an RCMP officer. “I know my car will have to stay, but my boyfriend’s truck is parked four stalls down. Is there any chance that we can go home soon?”
“Wait here and I’ll check.”
BY THE TIME she and Lou were allowed to leave, Casey was exhausted. She’d written her shift report and talked to the supervisor in charge. She’d also phoned Summer, who’d been invited to stay the night at her friend’s. Normally Casey would have said no on a school night, but keeping Summer away from the house was a safer option. When she and Lou finally left the depot, they were too drained to talk.
Once they arrived home, Casey made sure the alarm was on and all the windows and doors were secure. After a maniac had come into the house and tried to shoot her last year, she’d had the system installed. But she’d gotten lazy and kept it turned off most of the time.
Casey and Lou had just stepped into her apartment when her cell phone rang.
“Dominic Mancuso wants to meet me at Clint’s Collision!” Danielle blurted.
“What? He called you?”
“His friend, who works at Clint’s, did. Dom told him to call me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he thought I’d hang up the second I heard his voice. Anyway, he said Dom knows who the hit-and-run killer is.”
Casey didn’t like this. “Why doesn’t Dom or his friend phone the police?”
“He’s afraid the cops will throw him back in jail without hearing his side of things first.”
Casey caught Lou’s pensive stare. “I thought you said Dom had alibis for two of the hit and runs.”
“A couple of mechanics verified his whereabouts, but he could have paid them to lie.”
“Danielle, you can’t go there. The police have a bloody good reason to go after Dom themselves now.”
Beneath the Bleak New Moon Page 22