Schooled in Murder

by Kim Smith

  It worked in theory anyway.

  When Dwayne rolled up and parked under a scrubby oak facing the side of the building, I tried to collect my thoughts as to what I wanted to say. “Are you going in with me?” I asked.

  “Naw, girl. I’m like that document solution place. I’m here when you need me. But while you’re in there, ask about my damn camera, will you?”

  Whiny thoughts floated inside my head, but I refrained from verbalizing them. Instead, I opened the car door and stepped out. “Fine, Mr. Brown. I’ll handle this myself. I can do all this and more.”

  The heat of the day had started in earnest and my hair frizzed appropriately. I could feel sweat beading underneath my arms and along my ribs before I even made it to the door of the PD. The dull aluminum door handle singed my hand when I pulled on it and made me even grouchier.

  I had to allow my eyes to situate themselves once inside, and the smells in the place left me wishing I could cover my nose. Scents akin to body odor and urine washed over me. And something I couldn’t put a name to. Probably the scent of fear, and I just didn’t recognize it. Not on anyone other than myself anyway. I eased up to the security window and a surly black woman opened it to speak to me. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  “Yes, I’m here to visit Detective Ramirez.”

  “May I see some identification, please?”

  Hm. She must be new.

  Everyone else knew me and my bad luck and the PD’s involvement. I showed her my driver’s license and after a brief perusal, she dialed a number, uttered a few words, and told me to have a seat. I plopped onto the hard plastic seat, ogling the wanted posters tacked on an opposite wall. The FBI wanted a lot of folks. Two guys were up for parental abduction and unlawful flight, several mugs were international terrorists, and one pretty brunette had been missing for a long time.

  A shiver went over me, and I rubbed my arms.

  What if some people got listed as missing because they just got tired of their lives and wanted to start a new one? Maybe that girl was just peeved at her parents and ran away from home? Well, she’d been missing for a long time, so maybe not.

  Before drawing any conclusions to those questions, Sal bounded down the stairs behind me and opened the door to let me in. He smelled of some spicy cologne and the tightness of the stairwell allowed it to linger like a soft caress.

  We climbed to the second floor and walked down a hallway to his office where he shared room with his partner. A new man sat at the desk and I gulped hard, remembering poor Dan, now a former partner.

  The man had a blond crew cut and when he looked up, I gasped with surprise. “Officer Blalock!”

  This poor cop had been at my mercy on several occasions in the past when my boss/boyfriend had been murdered.

  Recognition spread over his face, too. He stood and came around his desk to shake my hand. “Oh, call me John, ma’am. And…Miss Wallace, isn’t it? How are you?”

  “Yes, thank you for remembering me. And please call me Shannon. Wow, this is a bit of a shock. Not a great way to get a promotion, huh?”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. But I’ve been on the list for a while, so I would’ve ended up scaling the heights at some point, I guess. But sure, hate it to be like this.”

  “What happened to your life as a patrolman? What got you interested in this?” I waved around me.

  “Well, you did, sort of. I got interested in the other aspects of police work after all that weird stuff happened to you a while back.” He looked down at his feet as if saying this would offend me.

  “It was wild, wasn’t it?” I finally murmured.

  Sal cleared his throat from behind me signaling his readiness to get down to business. Giving John a small smile and a finger wave, I allowed him to go back to his desk and whatever he had been focused on. I drew a chair closer to the front of Sal’s cluttered work area where the newspaper lay stretched out.

  Drat. I’d hoped he hadn’t seen that yet.

  “Now, Miss Wallace,” he said, sitting. “What can I help you with?”

  His formal cop air always unnerved me, but he was just doing his job. I guess maybe I approached clients the same way when they came by inquiring for help with video needs.

  “I’d like to file a missing person report on Thelma Denaldo, if that hasn’t been done yet.”

  He flipped his tie out from where it hung in front of him, wedged between his chest and desk. “Do you know what is involved in filing such a report?”

  “Um. No.” A finger of worry crept up my spine. What did he mean by involved?

  He folded his hands together in front of him and gave me a direct look. “Let me explain. A missing person is considered missing when they are supposed or expected to be somewhere and they aren’t, and they meet certain other criteria like being a danger to themselves or someone else, or if there is evidence to prove they were taken without permission like an abduction, or if they are a minor.”

  “Oh, well she surely wasn’t where she was supposed to be and by leaving her purse behind I’m sure she has been abducted.”

  “Yes, well, her car was there, but she was not, that’s true, but the purse being left behind is inconclusive. There are forms that must be filled out by family as well, Shannon. Unfortunately, you do not qualify to file such a report.”

  He tilted sideways as though to throw something away, but I knew he was checking out my legs. Katie was right.

  “Was there something else I can help you with?” he asked, upright again.

  How did he manage to look innocent with his big brown smiling eyes and make me want to clobber him all at the same time?

  “Salvador Ramirez. You knew all this before I came over here. Why didn’t you say something when we were on the phone?” I didn’t try to disguise the aggravation tainting my voice. “I would have stayed where I was.”

  “Just offering information you needed on a subject you didn’t know anything about. Sometimes it’s better if we don’t talk about some subjects over a phone. I had company in here.”

  I tapped my fingers on the edge of the desk and considered what to do. “So, are you just accepting that Thelma went off on a trip, without her purse, without leaving any word to anyone at the same time a murdered man appeared in her living room?”

  His face darkened at the reminder that his friend and partner was the man I spoke of so flippantly. “He died when the coroner says he died. She may never have even been there. But it could have happened that way, yes. I suspect it didn’t. I believe the results of the autopsy will show he died at a time which would eliminate her as a suspect.”

  “Why? I can assure you she was there before Dwayne and I arrived. I have on good terms that from Jim Adams.”

  He shrugged. “She’s hardly the model for such activity, Shannon. I believe, as you do, she is as much victim as Dan. Her purse doesn’t worry me, but the car being left behind does.”

  I was speechless. He believed me? My theory was the same as his? “So…so what now?”

  “Now, I don’t know, now. I’m using my resources to look for Mrs. Denaldo, putting out feelers, trying to find where she’s gone. At first I thought she was involved, maybe even the best suspect, now I do not.”

  “You don’t? So, did you find prints or something? Personally, I think she dropped the purse and wasn’t allowed to retrieve it. I think she was hurried out of there with no time to get it.”

  He looked at his watch. “Speaking of time, it’s getting late. As for what has been found or uncovered, no comment. Don’t you owe me lunch? I think I want to collect.”

  “Late? It’s eleven thirty, Detective. I won’t be taking lunch until later this afternoon, if you want to collect. But you may have to come to the office to get it. I’ll most probably be at my desk when I take lunch. Now, stop stalling. What can I do to help find Mrs. Denaldo?”

  “Wait. That’s it. Just wait, and hope she turns up.”

  “She did. In Memphis, remember?”

 
He blinked at me, arms crossed, face blank.

  Apparently, there was nothing more forthcoming, as usual. Why didn’t I know this would happen?

  I sighed loudly. “News about her driving around the city like that isn’t as important to your case since it came from me, I guess? Or maybe it was, but now you’ve got Memphis PD working my lead?”

  He averted his gaze.

  I couldn’t resist reminding him of the times he had left me out of important leads.

  “What are you going to do if I find her and call you? Because I think you’re going to stick me in the backseat, again. I still have business with her.”

  “Your business with Mrs. Denaldo would take a backseat to our investigation that is true.”

  “No way. I don’t think so, Buster.”

  John choked on his coffee at my explosion. I wanted to swivel around and glare at him, but refrained.

  Men. Always in cahoots.

  I rose to my feet and sashayed toward the door. Let him get an eyeful.

  Sal followed. “I could arrest you for withholding information if you don’t call me, you know that, right?”

  “But you won’t because you have people looking all over for her. I’ll bet Memphis PD is out there scouring the city even as we speak.”

  I made a wave motion with my hand, my anger rising. “My little run-ins with her won’t even happen again, I’ll bet.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” He put out a hand to halt my rush for the door. “You have a knack for finding people, or for them to find you, as it were. Have you seen the paper?”

  I gave him my best sneer. “Is that what this is all about? Well, yeah. I have. And thanks. Really.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d agree to that backseat idea if I let you tag along when I get a call from Memphis?”

  “Not on your life, Ramirez.” I yanked open the door and he took a step back in my wake.

  It was the second time today I had to endure laughter as I went down a stairway.

  ###

  When I got back to the car, Dwayne wouldn’t turn over the motor until I told him all. When I finished, he laughed and cranked the Toyota.

  “Quit laughing, you hyena. It’s not funny.”

  “Yeah, it is, girl. That man wants you bad, but he wants Dan the Man’s killer more. And you just keep dangling your carrots under his nose making him have to choose.”

  I turned the air conditioner up. “I have dangled nothing anywhere near his nose.”

  He snickered all the way down the street. When it didn’t get the required reaction, he tried a different approach. “So since you were so busy flirting with our police friend, you forgot about my camera, didn’t you?”

  I winced. “Damn it, yes.”

  He muttered something under his breath and said, “Next order of business. We need to get Betsy all fixed up. I don’t suppose there’s any use in tellin’ you to trade that old rust bucket in on something reliable, is there?”

  “I can’t afford a car note, Dee.

  “Before you say that, why don’t we go look? There’s some decent lookin’ cars on the back lot over at Melton Skelton Ford. They sell for like four thou give or take.”

  Ever the shopper, how could I say no? It surely couldn’t hurt to window shop.

  While he maneuvered around the early afternoon traffic to the dealership, I took a call from Sissy Cratchett. She wanted four cameras, and reception coverage. I told her to come by the office at six o’clock after she got off work and we would show her a demo.

  “She’s sold,” I said, grinning in Dwayne’s direction.

  “Good. Her deposit will be your down payment. Look at that baby!” He pulled into the car lot, turned left onto the last row and parked in front of a shiny red Eclipse.

  “Mitsubishis have a bad rating with Consumer Reports,” I told him as we peeled ourselves out of the car. “And before you spend money we don’t have, remember I told you I can’t afford to buy a car.”

  I immediately missed the air conditioner, and heard thunder in the distance. “It’s going to rain, Dwayne. Let’s make it snappy.”

  He walked down the row, looking at every offering. A salesman in a dove gray suit hurried over to check out our buying temperature. I smiled at him and hoped the rain hurried along. I couldn’t bear pushy salesmen and he just had the look. Expectant. Florid face, bright knowing (or hoping) eyes. Avoiding such encounters was just another good reason to keep my old clunker.

  While Dwayne discussed what was under the hood of a sky blue late-model Honda with the sales weenie, I wandered down the row, absently looking around. The sales floor and showroom sported all glass sides, to better display the shiny, oh-my-God-expensive vehicles inside.

  I could make them out from where I stood ogling. My gaze roamed over the gleaming cars and trucks directly in front of me, up to the entrance of dealership, and settled on people going in, or, not going in, as it were.

  Considering my impoverished situation made me sad. I should investigate taking on a part time job. The idea crept up my backbone, appealing in a way it hadn’t since my boss and boyfriend had been killed.

  As I stood there contemplating life and money, a white Escalade eased through the lot, sunlight glinting off shiny chrome, drawing my eye to it like a streak of lightning crossing the darkening sky.

  My heart raced. No way. How many of those expensive monsters were registered in South Lake, Mississippi? This had to be some freak of coincidence. Or not. Just in case, I ducked behind a fancy new coupe. Creeping forward, rising only to take a quick peek to place the vehicle, I watched as it cruised down the aisle where we had parked. The driver paused, looking around.

  Had we been followed to the car lot? How did we miss that huge piece of metal in the mirror? Dee couldn’t talk too much about my being a perfect victim when he drove us around with a possible killer on our rear.

  I stayed hidden beside the coupe until the front end of the Escalade was almost even with me. Then, I stepped out in the middle of the aisle, playing chicken with him. He saw me at the last moment and stepped heavily on his brakes to keep from hitting me.

  I grinned as the driver peered at me from behind a dream catcher hanging over his dashboard. The blue and white feathers couldn’t hide the face gaping at me.

  The same face belonged to the guy who had smacked Thelma with napkins at Starbucks.

  Chapter Nine

  His eyes widened in shock and his mouth dropped open. This allowed me enough time to rush to the passenger door, pull up on the handle, and realize it was locked. When we were practically nose-to-nose with nothing but glass to separate us, he decided it was time to take off. Stomping on the gas, he shot down the back lot nearly ripping my hand and wrist from my arm. The motion sent shockwaves up to my recently injured shoulder and I hissed at the pain.

  Holding my arm, I watched as he whipped around the corner, and zoomed off the lot. This was a new development. For once, I had the advantage.

  “I saw you, creep, and I can identify you.” My hands shook as I pulled my cell out and dialed Jimmy. The driver had been older with gray hair, a double chin, and wide blue eyes. He also had too much knowledge about me to be able to hunt me down so easily.

  While the number rang in my ear it occurred to me that if I had managed to get that door opened, he might have pulled out a gun and shot me. All manner of things could have transpired. None of it felt good to my terrified mind, and my knees joined my hands on their journey to Tremble City. I looked around for a curb to sit on, settling for leaning onto a bumper.

  Jim answered with a friendly hello and I heard loud noises in the background that sounded too much like a restaurant. I told him what had happened.

  “Whoa. Okay. I’m pulling the plug on this one. If they want to play these stupid games, then let them. I say we let her old man worry about it. This case is not worth your life, Shannon.”

  “Unfortunately, you can’t just write this off. I am in this up to my ears now. A man was found de
ad in that house. A cop no less, and someone knows I’m interested in the details of the case and finding the homeowner. Maybe even this creep today. If Mr. Denaldo has been cleared of the murder, then that only leaves his wife to answer questions and well, maybe this guy who’s driving her around. Who knows? After this encounter, I sort of think he’s involved, don’t you?”

  “Why do you care? That’s what we pay policemen for.”

  “True, but don’t you find this weird? I mean, what if she’s being held against her will? What if this guy is the killer and he’s got her?”

  “More reason to ditch this whole thing! What if Thelma’s talked to the cops by now, and cleared herself? Then we’re talking about a complete accident with this guy at the car place. Maybe you’re worrying about nothing.”

  “Already checked with my contacts over at the PD, Jimmy. She hasn’t called or come in yet. And now this? It just has to be related some way.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “I’ll be in touch.” I disconnected.

  Dwayne and the salesman walked toward me. “You wanna go on a test ride?” Dee asked.

  I shook my head, rubbing my twisted wrist. The thunder rumbled deep in the throat of the sky, and big fat drops fell. “We have to get going, sorry.”

  The salesman passed us white business cards with the dealership’s information and his name embossed on it before hurrying away to the security of the dry showroom.

  “I thought you wanted to check out cars?” Dwayne asked, stuffing the card away in his pocket as he yanked open the driver’s door.

  “Didn’t you see that white SUV?”

  He pulled off the lot. “The ‘Lade?”

  “Yes the ‘Lade. Did you notice as I tried to open his door and got yanked off my feet for the effort? I could have been killed.”

  “What the hell you doin’ that for? Was it somebody you know or somethin’?”

  “No! It was Thelma’s tormentor from Starbuck’s.”

  “No shit? How do you know it was the same dude?”