by Blake Pierce
The monotony of the restaurant was broken by the topic of dinner conversation, though. Allen was retiring from his job as an advertising executive in three months. He would be leaving in two days to fly out to Chicago for a week or so and it would likely be his last trip before his retirement. His company was making a huge deal out of it and it had made Allen quite happy these last few days.
“They’re saying I can bring a guest,” Allen said as he dug into his dinner. “And they’ll pay. So, if you want to spend a few days in Chicago with me…”
“That would be great,” Kate said.
“I’ve noticed you being a little…I don’t know…distant. Not in a bad way. You just seem bored. Lingering…”
“That’s an accurate description,” Kate said. “I thought I was hiding it better, though.”
“Nope, not at all,” Allen said with a smile. “Now, if you go with me, I’m going to be working a lot of the time. I trust you’ll be fine by yourself, taking in the sights and doing some shopping in the Windy City.”
“Yes, I think I’ll be able to handle myself.”
The flow of conversation between the two of them was natural. It had been nearly a year since they had started dating, and nearly five months since things had gotten very serious. They had not discussed marriage and had barely touched on the topic of actually living together—and that was fine with Kate. A large part of her heart was still reserved for her late husband, Michael. Whenever she tried to envision living the rest of her life with Allen, memories of Michael would surface and she didn’t know if she was ready just yet.
“Have you talked to Melissa lately?” Allen asked.
“Yesterday. She called to let me know Michelle is almost walking. Not quite yet, but almost there…”
“Scary stuff,” Allen said. “Once they start walking…”
“Oh, I know. Melissa was a holy terror once she was able to get her feet going. I remember one time when she—”
Her phone rang within her purse, interrupting her. She reached for it, assuming it was Melissa, as if summoned by the mention of her name. With a second thought, she ignored it. If it was Melissa, she’d leave a message and Kate would call her back later.
They carried on with dinner, reminiscing over the two recent trips they had taken. Kate noticed the way Allen had been looking at her lately. There was depth there, a sense of Allen almost sizing her up. It was a conceited thought, but she wondered if marriage was on his mind. At their age, spending so much time together didn’t necessarily mean marriage was imminent, but every day that passed by had to count for something. She had no idea how she would react if he crossed that line, but it was still nice to think about.
Dinner came to an end, the check was delivered, and Allen quickly scooped it up. He knew she was not at all in any sort of financial distress; in fact, when she had retired the first time, she’d been looking at a comfortable retirement account to spend the rest of her life rather comfortably with. But Allen was all about making her feel secure when he could, like they were an actual dating couple. And to him, that meant the man had to pay.
“I’ll catch up,” Kate said as he stood up from his seat with the check in hand. “I think Melissa called while we were eating. I’d like to go ahead and call her back.”
“Tell her I said hi,” Allen said as he headed for the front of the restaurant.
Kate dug her phone out of her purse and saw that the missed call had not been from Melissa. It had been from Duran.
Excitement and guilt tore through her. She knew Duran would only call—at this hour, no less—for one reason. And if her gut was right (and it usually was), his reason for calling was likely going to mean that she could forget about the trip to Chicago with Allen.
No sense in wondering, she thought.
She returned the call right away, knowing that Duran was not the type to stay on the phone for very long. It rang only once before he answered.
“Kate, how are you?”
“Good.” She knew that his use of her first name meant that he was in a hurry—that he wasn’t going to be bothered by formalities.
“If you want in on it, I have a case for you. There shouldn’t be too much heavy lifting, nothing too out of the ordinary.”
“Well, of course I want it. What details do you have?”
“It’s in Delaware. Two murders so far, very likely linked. I’d need you out there tomorrow. As for the specifics, I’ll let the agent in charge of the case fill you in.”
“Who is the agent?”
“DeMarco,” Duran said. There seemed to be a bit of joy in his voice to reveal this. Even he could see the blossoming partnership the two had managed to grow. “She’s handled things wonderfully so far, but it’s starting to go nowhere fast, and she needs a hand. Of course, she won’t admit it.”
“Does she know I’m coming?”
“I’m going to call her when we get off of here to let her know. You mind driving? The bureau will comp you for gas.”
“That sounds great.” And while it really did sound great, she couldn’t help but think of Allen and Chicago.
“Great. I’ll call DeMarco and have her check in with me when you get there. Thanks, Wise.”
He ended the call, leaving Kate to sit at the table for a moment to get her emotions sorted out. As she got to her feet, she spotted Allen waiting for her by the front door. There was a thin smile on his face as she approached him.
“That wasn’t Melissa, was it?” he asked.
“How did you know?”
“You’re very relaxed when you speak to her. The conversation you just had…it lit your face up. You were sitting perfectly upright, focusing very hard. It was Duran, wasn’t it?”
“It was.”
He nodded as he opened the door for her. When they were back on the street, bathed in the glow of the streetlights, he took her hand. “I’m going to assume Chicago is out?”
“I was presented an opportunity,” she said. “I figured we could talk about it tonight.”
“A case?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“When would you be leaving?”
“Early tomorrow morning.”
“Nothing to talk about then,” he said. “Kate, we’ve been through this. I know how much that job means to you. So just go. Hell, I’ve got the work trip anyway. It would have been nice to have you there, sure, but we would have barely seen one another.”
“Allen, I can—”
“It’s okay. You know…I gave you an ultimatum several weeks ago. I still stand by it but this…I think it’s okay. I do think we need to keep it in mind for when I finally kiss the working world goodbye.”
“Three months,” she said with a grin.
“I know. It’s hard to believe.”
The Thai place was only a mile and a half away from her house and they had chosen to walk—something they tried to do at least twice a week. The evening was nice, starting to chill a bit as the night crept in.
“So, if I leave around four thirty in the morning, you aren’t going to get upset?” she asked a few moments later.
“No. I want you to enjoy this job while we can both withstand it. I won’t be all that upset. Just make sure to kiss me before you go.”
She leaned into him, wondering how she had ever managed to find a man as forgiving and understanding as Allen. And, with that, she also wondered how much longer he was going to put up with her sort-of job.
“If you keep up this understanding vibe you’ve got going on,” she said, “you’ll get a lot more than a kiss.”
He laughed, wrapped his arm around her waist, and they continued on into the night.
CHAPTER TWO
It had been forever since Kate had driven through the early morning hours. She was out of the maze of DC exits and roadways by 4:50, heading northeast toward Delaware. She had checked her email the night before and had found nothing from Duran. But shortly after her alarm had gone off, she’d checked again and found, without
much surprise, that Duran had sent her a specific location as well as electronic copies of the case files shortly after midnight.
The town the murders had occurred in was called Estes, a small town situated around Fallows Lake. Graced with the sunrise along the way, it made her think of the beach vacation she and Allen had taken; they’d spent one morning early on the beach, eating bagels and strawberries while watching the sunrise. While a lakeside town was a far stretch from a beach vacation, she imagined it still likely held some of the same charms…especially in the seasonal limbo that sat in those few weeks between the last true days of summer and the first cool days of fall.
The memory made her feel warm but also guilty. Allen had seemed almost too understanding about this sudden case. It made her wonder if he would reinforce his ultimatum three months from now, after he retired. He’d have a right to, she supposed. And that meant she had some serious things to think about.
For now, though, there was the case. And if the last case had taught her anything, it was that she was going to absolutely have to separate her personal life from her professional life. In some respects, it was even harder now than it had been when she’d been married and had a growing and rather difficult child on her hands.
She entered the town of Estes at 7:40 that morning, twenty minutes ahead of when she was scheduled to meet DeMarco at the latest crime scene. While the town was about a mile away from the lake, Estes was built in a way that made it feel like you were right on the shore. Hell, there were certain features of the area that made it appear as if the ocean was just around the corner rather than a lake. The homes were all coastal in appearance and there were several gift shops along the main stretch that looked as if they had simply wandered away from the Delaware beaches that sat about eighty miles to the east. Being early, Kate swung by a small coffee shop and ordered a dark roast before heading for the latest crime scene.
When she arrived five minutes early, she found DeMarco already there. She was parked in the paved driveway, sipping her own coffee while leaning against what was clearly a bureau car. She smiled and waved at Kate as she parked next to her.
“Hey,” Kate said as she stepped out. “Sorry to crash your party.”
“I’ll be honest,” DeMarco said. “I was sort of happy when Duran called and told me he was sending you.”
“Is the case running away from you a bit?” Kate asked.
“No, not really. But this was my first solo case and so far, there’s nothing really popping, you know?” She looked up at the sky and smiled. “I know it’s just a simple lake, but have you ever noticed how even the sky starts to look different the closer you get to open water?”
“No, I haven’t,” Kate said, looking skyward. She realized DeMarco was simply trying to avoid the fact that, when it was all boiled down, Duran had called Kate in because DeMarco had been unable to push the case forward on her own. She wondered how long DeMarco would be able to go without saying such a thing out loud.
“Did Duran send you the case files?” DeMarco asked as she started walking toward the house. It was a two-story mock beach house, another of the homes that would have looked right at home along the Delaware coast. There was a FOR SALE sign at the edge of the yard, adorned by a pretty woman’s smiling face. Her name—Tamara Bateman—and number were listed below her bright profile.
“He did, but I figured it would save me some time and headache if I just heard it straight from you.”
“Seems simple enough,” DeMarco said. “Two murders in Estes within a week of one another. The latest victim is that pretty lady right there.” She nodded back toward the FOR SALE sign.
“When was she killed?”
“Two days ago. I was called in yesterday, got here a little later than I would have preferred. I spoke with the people from the real estate agency but it wasn’t much help. Some of them were genuinely grief-stricken. Others are too scared to talk to an FBI agent out of fear of what it might do for sales. They did give me to key to the place, though.”
DeMarco fished the key from her pocket as they climbed the porch steps. She unlocked the front door and they stepped inside. Kate found that the house had been totally moved out, not a speck of furniture in the place. There was also the smell of fresh paint and some sort of polish on the floor.
“And she was the second?” Kate asked as she closed the door behind them.
“Yes. The first was also a real estate agent, in a house just like this one. The first victim, though, was killed in a newer home. About two years old, I think. This house we’re standing in right now is about fifteen years old.”
“Anything of note regarding the personal lives of the victims?”
“Nothing yet. I’ve gone through background checks and had the help of the local PD in looking for arrest records. There’s nothing…just a few speeding tickets and a single DWI charge. The families are no help either. We’re being told they were both great women, wouldn’t hurt a fly. That sort of thing.”
Kate took a look around. There were blood splatters on the floor, just inside the entryway. A tall flight of stairs started just off of the foyer. There were smudges of dried blood on the hardwood stairs and even a dried stream of it running down the light teal paint on the wall that ran between the stairs and the ceiling. The stairs were the sort that were completely visible all the way to the second floor, a single thick railing breaking the space between the stairs and the open air.
Kate studied the pattern and trail of the blood and could not make immediate sense of it.
“Seems weird, right?” DeMarco said. “From what I’ve gathered, Tamara Bateman was attacked either on the stairs or at the very bottom. After that, she was dragged back to almost the very top of the stairs. She was then apparently thrown over the railing, with a noose attached to her neck. If you go up the stairs and have a look along the third step from the top, you can actually see pooled blood and what are very obviously rope fibers.”
“She was hung?”
“Yes. And so was the first victim. Only, she was hung from a rafter that ran horizontally along the living room ceiling.”
“Were the victims from the same real estate agency?” Kate asked.
“Nope. Different agencies. But both houses had been recently put on the market. That and the fact that both victims are female agents are the only links. I say only…but it seems like those links would be more than enough. But—as if evidenced by you being called out here—it’s most definitely not.”
“You been in here before now?” Kate asked.
“Yeah, yesterday afternoon. The body had been here for about twelve hours before anyone knew what had happened. Bateman’s boyfriend called the police to voice his concern. A call was made to the agency, they found out the properties she was dealing in, and voilà…they found her hanging from the railing. I got here about eight hours after the body had been removed. You are more than welcome to look the place over. I promise you I won’t be offended. I’ll get you a copy of the coroner’s report, too, but it says pretty much the same thing I just told you. When a woman is hit in the head and then hung, there’s usually not much to add.”
“Any sexual abuse from the killer?”
“Nothing showed up in the report. Seriously…the damned thing was no help at all.”
Kate gave her a grin, though it was indeed an awkward situation. She felt like she was stepping on DeMarco’s toes, poking her head in where it might not be wanted. Plus, it was the first case they worked together where DeMarco had been there first—where she more or less had the authority.
She headed up the stairs cautiously, keeping her eyes down to make sure not to step in any blood even if it was dry. She found the stair where the killer had apparently tossed the body over. There was a very slight abrasion on the finely polished railing. There were decorative spindles positioned every six inches or so, connecting the rail to the stairs. The spindle along this particular stair had a few strands of what looked like hair-thin burlap sticking to it. Or,
as DeMarco had indicated, rope fabric. It was also resting on the edge of the stair, almost like dust.
Kate peered over the railing, to the floor. About a twelve-foot drop. This meant the noose had likely been very short. And if it had been short, there was a chance the killer had intentionally made it short—as if he had preplanned it, knowing where he would hang Tamara Bateman and how much rope he’d need.
“Got measurements on the noose?” Kate asked.
“The rope itself was eight feet long,” DeMarco said. “Appeared to have been purchased at that length, as there was no clear sign of it having been cut.”
Kate was impressed. The rope length was likely unimportant, but still a detail that would be necessary for an accurate and complete report. As she had expected, DeMarco had not missed a beat.
Kate continued up the stairs to the second floor. DeMarco trailed behind, being respectful and giving her ample space. There were five doorways along the upstairs hall: two on either side, and one at the end of the hallway. The hallway itself was not carpeted but the opened doors to all five rooms showed that the rooms (except the small bathroom at the end of the hall) were. Kate stepped into the first one. The house had apparently been cleaned and cared for quite well when the previous owners had moved out. There was not a single scratch on the walls and only the faintest indentations in the carpet to show that furniture had ever been there at all.
This bedroom was likely one of the guest rooms, as it was quite small. The only area to check other than the empty room itself was the closet. It was a small closet—no larger than a coat closet, really—and yielded nothing other than more very clean carpet. The next room was the same, as was the much larger master bedroom. The master bedroom also offered a large bathroom to look over, but it was just as sparkling clean as the rest of the house.