Steve Demaree - Dekker 09 - Murder on a Blind Date

by Steve Demaree

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  Sometimes when I come upon a brick wall I keep hitting my head against it. Dentists and plastic surgeons highly recommend it. But other times I do this when my brain is still working, so I put aside what I'm doing and hope that time away will help me look at everything with a fresh eye when I come back to it. This time I hoped reading a good mystery would help me solve this new case. I found the latest S.S. Van Dine Philo Vance mystery, then called Lou to see if he was okay with reading it next.

  Before I could start reading, my stomach growled to let me know what time it was. I went to the freezer, pulled out a TV dinner, dumped the ingredients in the garbage, and started eating the plastic and cardboard. Well, I didn't actually do that, but I had heard that eating the container is almost as nutritious as eating the food inside it. After looking over my sparse possibilities, I shut the refrigerator door and headed for the peanut butter. I spread a liberal amount of peanut butter on a couple pieces of bread, then sliced a banana and added it to my sandwich. Then I got out two Hershey Almond candy bars and laid them on the bread, and put on a little more peanut butter so the chocolate would stick to it. I looked at my creation and realized that I had included all the essential food groups except bacon and cheese.

  I ate my sandwich then walked to my recliner, ready to digest my book. Van Dine was one of the best at devising a whodunit. Too bad that he died so young and wrote only a dozen of them, instead of the many dozens that Erle Stanley Gardner and Agatha Christie wrote.

  It didn't take long for me to bury myself in the book. I read until I could tell that God was calling me to a nap. An hour later, I woke up from my nap refreshed, but I didn't get up feeling that I knew who had murdered all of those people.

  I got up from my bed and realized where I was, which was quite an accomplishment for me. I walked over to the front window, looked out, and saw no crimes being committed on my street. The sun, which had stayed away most of the winter, was doing its best to melt the snow. The sun still had a lot of work to do. It didn't matter that much to me. I was sure all the streets had been plowed, so I would be able to go out at least by the next day.

  18

  The next day was Wednesday and all went well until Dan and Heather showed up with some mail for me.

  "Cy, I know this is what you've been waiting for all morning."

  I'd forgotten that my newest creation lived at their house. Al Monson, who for the most part was Cy Dekker with a new name, had received the information about his date. I thanked Dan and Heather for dropping it off, and told them I was hard at work trying to solve John Ed Caudill's murder. Heather gave me a lingering hug, then she and Dan left.

  I tore open the envelope and blew into it, sure that all the changes I had made would get me a more suitable date than Bambi Fontaine. While the information I received told me only that my date's name was Sarah Jane, and that we were to meet Sunday night at 6:30 at The Cheesecake Factory, I looked over the list and found out that she was Sarah Jane Fulkerson. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Sarah Jane hadn't dated any of the men who Sam had told me were missing. Was that what I wanted? Or did I want contact with a woman who seemed more likely to have murdered someone? I continued to peruse the information until someone knocked at my door. I couldn't figure out whom it could be. Two visitors in one day? I hurried to the door and encountered another friend from my days with the department, Patrick Hannigan.

  "Cy, this came to my house this morning. It's for you. Remember you asked me if you could have something delivered to my house that you didn't want delivered here? I hope I didn't make a mistake by bringing it to you."

  "No. No. It's just that I had forgotten about it. Thanks for dropping it by."

  "Glad to. Well I have to get back to work."

  I waited until I was sure he was gone before I opened the mail he had brought me, all the time wondering why I received two letters from the dating agency on the same day. As soon as I pulled out the paper and opened it I realized what it was. It was another date, this one with a woman named Lucy for Monday night. She was the replacement for Bambi, because I had sent back a yellow card. I went to my e-mail from Sam to see what I could find about a Lucy. There was nothing, so I hurried to the phone to call Sam.

  "Hey Sam you are, I have a question. I received something about a date from that agency, but the first name didn't match anyone on that list you sent me."

  "Cy, that list didn't include everyone. Just the ones I had found so far. I received some more names this morning. What's her first name?"

  "No, What's the name of the guy on second base."

  "Thank you, Abbott. Now let's try this again. What's her first name?"

  "Lucy."

  "Oh, yeah. Here it is. Lucy Throckmorton. Wrestles alligators. Sometimes she leaves her tooth mark in her kill. She suffers from crooked teeth and halitosis."

  "Not that funny, Sam. Do you want to go out with her?"

  "Sorry. I don't have time. I'm trying to juggle my full-time job, while at the same time help out my unappreciative retired friend by doing his work for him, without receiving any compensation for my time."

  "Nor am I receiving any compensation for my time. So, you're saying you don't have a Lucy on your list?"

  "Not yet, but it probably means you're her first date. You're on your own this time."

  "The date's not until Monday night. Let me know if you come up with anything before then."

  I hung up and realized what a predicament I was in. Dates on Sunday and Monday. And a few people knew about them, or at least knew that I had received something from the dating service. That means something might get back to you know who, so I called you know who to see if she was free on Saturday night. She asked me if she should wear a white rose. I told her to wear whatever she wanted to wear.

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  Some of the snow had melted. Most of what was left was covering everyone's yards and not the streets, so I promised myself I wouldn't drive on anyone's yard. I managed to get out to replenish my diminished food supply, and had eaten lunch out, so that my new supply didn't run out before spring. Or at least until we had another snowstorm that deposited a foot of snow between me and wherever I needed to be.

  Things went reasonably well until Thursday afternoon late. That was when I received another called from Sam.

  "Cy, I have more bad news."

  "You're going to start charging me double for any information you feed me?"

  "Let's see, double nothing is nothing. No, this is a lot worse. Today's Thursday. You know what that means?"

  "In the olden days, like last month, it meant it was my poker night. Or it would have been if I had taken up playing poker. But since you said you had bad news, my guess is someone else has been murdered."

  "Try two somebodies. And this time it was two people in the same house."

  "Were two people murdered after returning home from a date?"

  "No. And they wouldn't have returned to any home together unless it was at least their second date. And someone seems inclined to see that there are no second dates."

  "So, was one of them someone who had used the dating service?"

  "That's right. And both people had been injected with poison and found just inside the front door. The police in Lexington think that whoever did it assumed the person who answered the front door was alone, and the second person came into the house or the room as the first victim was being murdered. That meant that the murderer had to kill a second person, so there would be no witnesses."

  "What was the connection between the two victims?"

  "Mother and daughter. The mother didn't live there. From what I gathered from checking this out the mother came by to take her daughter to lunch."

  "So they were murdered in broad daylight. I assume there were no other witnesses. None of the neighbors saw anyone."

  "The immediate neighbors were at work. The victims were discovered a little after 2:00 by the daughter of one victim and sister of the other, who was to meet t
he two of them for lunch. She drove over when neither of the victims showed up at the restaurant or answered their phones."

  "I assume the victim had recently had a date and sent back a green card."

  "I'm still working on that, plus whom she dated, and what card he sent back. I'll let you know when I find out more about this."

  I thanked Sam and hung up. I was tired of some maniac running around killing innocent people. And I was pretty sure that if we had a lineup with the maniac standing beside some of the people who had used the service and were still alive, that the maniac wouldn't look any different than any of the others. Was the maniac the woman I had dated, or one of the two I would soon be dating? And what reason did someone have for killing people who had never done anything to harm him or her?

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  I called Lou and let him know what I had learned from Sam. He agreed to study what information we had and to come over on Friday to see if two heads together are better than one. Evidently they aren't. By the time darkness set in on Friday night we hadn't arrested anyone.

  19

  I had spent countless hours going over everything I knew about the murders, without gaining any more knowledge as to the identity of the murderer, so I decided that I would spend my time from Saturday morning through Sunday afternoon doing what I normally did. I got up Saturday morning long after the rooster had awakened his barnyard friends, then got it in gear and shaved, showered, exercised, ate, and spent time with God. Then I called Lou and asked him if he was up for some indoor cornhole. He even agreed to drop by Antonio's and pick up lunch. I refrained from telling him that I had planned to treat him to lunch at my house. That would give me a couple more days for larder in case God decided to dump some more snow on our hamlet. When I saw Lou pull up out in front of my house I wondered if that was the first time he had gotten his 1957 Chevy out of the garage two days in a row. By the time he made it to the front door I still couldn't think of another time when he had done so.

  Lou arrived at my house smelling good. Well, it wasn't so much Lou, but the food he had picked up at Antonio's. I was glad I didn't eat at Antonio's everyday, because if I did I would put back on all the weight I had lost over the last several months.

  There were no witnesses at my house that day, so Lou and I ate and played like a couple of boys, flicking peppers at each other, and doing between the legs cornhole tosses when it came time to play. Neither of us broke anything, so I didn't have to blame anything on Lou. After a while I kicked Lou out, told him I had a hot date. He asked me if she was a killer. I told him she was in my book. Then he turned sad. Thelma Lou was down with the flu and had ordered everyone to stay away until she recovered. Everyone included Lou, who had to return home to his jigsaw puzzle, which fittingly was a winter scene.

  I took Jennifer to dinner, where she interrogated me and asked me how many other women I had dated that week. The smile on my face after I said "none" lasted only until she asked me how many I planned to date the following week. I assured her that all the women that agency would fix me up with looked like the one Jennifer had seen. She had doubts about that, but promised not to follow me the second time. I was thankful for that. I was even more thankful later.

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  Lou and I enjoyed our pastor's message on Sunday morning and discussed it while we ate lunch together afterward. I particularly liked the fact that I wouldn't have to drive to Lexington and back in a borrowed truck, or inclement weather.

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  As I opened my back door and stepped into my house the house phone was ringing. Since my home phone didn't have voice mail or Caller ID I hurried to answer it before it quit ringing.

  "Is this Dekker?"

  Very few people have my phone number and the voice at the other end of the line didn't sound like any of them.

  "Yeah. Who's this?"

  "This is Gruber, down in Lexington."

  "Gruber?"

  "Detective Gruber, Robbery and Homicide. I understand you have an interest in something we're working on. Just wanted to let you know we think we've caught the guy. Name's Monson. Al Monson. We think he did them all."

  I wonder how they figured out the name I used on my dating service application, and if the phone call was to tell me to cease and desist. I played along to see where this was leading.

  "I don't think so."

  "I don't think so, either. Turns out we found out this morning who this Monson really is. Can you tell me your interest in this case?"

  "Well, I guess you could say I'm involved in a couple of ways."

  "And one of them is dating the suspects."

  "Well, two other than that. A week ago yesterday my partner of thirty years was kidnapped and taken to Tennessee. He woke up and found himself next to a body. It turns out the body was one of the victims who used this dating service. Another one of the victims was a guy from Morehead who was a friend of a cousin of the person who took my job in homicide when I retired."

  "I heard a little bit about that, but since we're knee-deep in bodies in our own backyard we haven't checked into those two. It looks like you have some information we don't have. You going to be in Lexington anytime soon?"

  "Yeah, tonight. I have my second date through the agency tonight, my third tomorrow night."

  "Wow! You're a busy man. At that pace you'll soon find a killer, or a wife, or a killer wife."

  "I'd prefer the killer. I already have a girlfriend."

  "And does she know about these dates of yours?"

  "She does."

  "Wow! I wish my wife was that accommodating."

  "Listen if you want to take my place on these two dates, you're more than welcome to do so."

  "I think I'll pass. I assume this means you'll be at The Cheesecake Factory tonight."

  "That's right. I'm supposed to meet her at 6:30."

  "Okay. Listen, I know all about you, about the success you've had over the years. Solved every murder. That's impressive. We're not that good. We miss one every now and then, but then we have more murders and a larger area to cover than you do. We've already talked to some of these people involved with this dating service and so far we have nothing. Well, nothing that says we're ready to arrest someone. You want a crack at this? If so, are you willing to tell us what you've learned if we share with you what we know? Maybe working together will help us solve these murders sooner."

  "Sounds good to me."

  "Be at Fayette Mall tonight at 5:30. Drive in the main entrance. Turn left then turn left again and back into a spot out near Nicholasville Road. I'm busy tonight, but Detective Sanchez will meet you. What will you be driving?"

  I described my van. We shared a few other words then hung up.

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  I called Sam and asked him for photographs of the victims and the ones they dated. He told me he was on it. I wasn't sure how Sam came up with everything he did, but I doubted if it was Google or a message from God each day. I decided not to worry about how Sam learns what he does. Instead I concentrated on using it to help me solve each case.

  20

  I refrained from playing cornhole or doing the hula hoop exercise on my Wii board, so I didn't have to take a second shower on Sunday. I left early enough to allow myself some extra time for the drive to Lexington. When I arrived at the north side of Lexington without incident, I breathed a sigh of relief and hoped that was a sign of things to come. I took New Circle Road around Lexington until I got to Nicholasville Road. Since Sunday traffic isn't all that bad, I was tempted to drive straight through Lexington, but was sure if I did I would hit a bunch of red lights. Besides, I had no idea if anything was going on downtown to slow me down. Still, I doubted it. Not much goes on in downtown Lexington on a Sunday in the winter.

  Sunday Lexington traffic is heavy right after church when everyone heads to their favorite restaurant before heading home for a nap or something on TV, but by the time I hit town most people were nestled in their homes. I followed Detective Gruber's instructions and backed into
a spot at Fayette Mall. I killed my lights, but kept the motor running in order to stay warm. I sat there, waiting. There was a lot of traffic behind me on Nicholasville Road, but only a few cars parked as far away from the mall entrance as I was. None of them seemed to have anyone inside. Maybe Detective Sanchez got delayed by traffic. I heard someone approaching from my left and turned and looked in that direction. An attractive woman in her mid-to-late thirties was walking toward me. I had no idea where she came from, and figured she was going to walk past my van. At the last moment she turned and approached the driver's side of my vehicle. She wasn't wearing a white rose, so I didn't think she was my date. She stopped at my door. I rolled down the window.

  "Lieutenant Dekker?"

  "That's right. Who are you?"

  "Eve Sanchez, and from the look on your face Mike Gruber didn't tell you that I'm a woman. He likes to do that to people. Mind if I come around and get in?"

  "Please do."

  I used the few seconds that it took her to walk around to the passenger's side and open the door to try to calm down. What calmness I had managed to acquire went away as soon as she slid those shapely legs into the front seat and her skirt slid up just above her knee. This woman was rapidly rising up the detective chart to tie Heather for my favorite detective. As I sat there watching Eve Sanchez get comfortable I expected to see bright lights hit me in the face and Jennifer emerge from a car in front of me. I was only slightly more comfortable when that didn't happen. After all, an attractive woman who wasn't Jennifer was sitting just a couple of feet to my right. Luckily there was a console between us, and I didn't expect her to leap over to my side of the van. For a minute I pictured myself in Lou's '57 Chevy and watching a dazzling young woman slide across the seat as she said, "Hi, Cy." To keep from speaking in a falsetto voice I let Eve Sanchez speak first.