by Carsen Taite
George told the rest of the group they were taking a short break and he ducked out of the room. Danny started to follow him, but Sarah tapped her on the shoulder.
“You mind sharing whatever it is you’ve got there?”
Danny looked down at the papers in her hand. “Oh, this? Just some legal mumbo jumbo. Probably wouldn’t interest you.” She started to walk away, but Sarah stopped her.
“I think the Chief might be interested. At the very least, he’d want to know why you didn’t feel the need to share.”
“I don’t work for the police department.”
“So? When we work with the United States attorney, we have a very close relationship.”
“Well, I’m not an AUSA. And I’m not into relationships.” Danny delivered the lie easily, but Sarah Flores wasn’t easily deterred.
“Exactly as I’d hoped. How about we grab a drink later? Have a little non-relationship after-hours fraternizing?”
Apparently, she’d become a magnet for one-night stand seekers. Was it a sign? Stronger than her mother’s warnings, her friend’s teasing? Should she go with it?
“Danny, you coming?”
She murmured a silent thanks to George, took his interruption as a sign to go with her gut, and left the room without a second glance at Sarah.
Chapter Eight
Danny tried to focus on the stack of papers in front of her, but George wanted to veer off topic.
“She giving you grief?”
She didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. “Not the kind of grief you’re talking about.”
“Oh.” George made kissing noises. “She’s pretty hot. Maybe you should take one for the team. You keep her distracted while I solve this case.”
“Get some other chick to do your dirty work.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re dating someone. Is it serious? Are you going to bring her to Joe’s birthday dinner? Mama said you might bring a date.”
“Mama’s delusional.”
“She just wants you to be happy.”
“I’m happy.”
“Okay.” Long pause. “So, is it serious?”
“We just met.”
“I’m not talking about Sarah.”
“I’m not either.”
“Back to my original question.”
“No, it’s not serious. I’m definitely attracted and she seemed like a real together type. You know the kind you could get serious about, but…”
“But?”
“She’s way out of my league and she’s only interested in one thing.”
His look changed from teasing to concerned. “Might not be a bad way for you to get back in the swing of things.”
“Maybe. I guess I just wasn’t ready for the first woman I date in forever to want in my pants five minutes into the first date.”
“Damn, you have it rough.”
“Don’t be an ass. You guys are always telling me to get a personal life. Now I finally try to have one and you tease me when the woman turns into a whoredog.”
“Whoredog, huh?”
“Whatever. She isn’t what I thought, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe I’ll just have a little fun with her and move on.”
“Could be just what you need.”
“Is this more envy for my singlehood?”
“Grass always looks greener, but I like married life just fine.”
“Sure. Remind me of that next time Anita makes you sleep on the couch because you spent your anniversary at a crime scene.” Danny pointed at the pile of papers in his hand. “Anything good in there?”
“Bunch of crap. These women banked at different banks, ate at different restaurants, shopped at different stores. So far, no connections. I can feel this case slipping right into the hands of the BAU.”
“Hang on, Mr. Doom. I have a little bit more to wade through.” She handed him part of the rest of her stack. “Here, help me out since your little interrogation into my personal life put me behind.”
They spent the next couple of minutes in silence before Danny’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the number and sighed. “I’m going to step outside and take this.”
“Breaking case or mystery woman?”
She shoved the rest of the papers into his hand and moved to the door. “Be right back.” Once outside the office, she strode down the hallway, took a deep breath, and answered the call. “Soto, here.”
“Hi, Danny. It’s Ellen.”
Warmth flooded through her at the sound of Ellen’s voice. “Hey, you. I was going to call you later.”
“Is this a bad time?”
Ellen’s tentative tone melted any residual frustration Danny felt about their date. “Actually, I’m in the middle of something, but I was just thinking about you. You must have read my mind.”
“I think I owe you an apology. Last night, well, I didn’t mean to chase you off. To be perfectly frank—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Danny saw George emerge from the office, and she rushed the conversation along. “It was me, not you. You were perfect. I’ve been working too hard lately. Makes me unable to recognize a good thing when it’s right in front of me. Give me another chance?”
“Absolutely.”
“I have no idea how today is going to go. How about I call you later and we can pick up where we left off? Only this time I’ll stick around for the good parts. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Danny shut her phone, relieved at their easy interaction. She’d call Ellen later and make a date. One like Ellen had expected the first time. One that would leave them both wanting more, but without any desire to do something crazy, like set up house together.
“Danny, you ready?”
She turned to George and smiled. “Oh yeah, I’m ready.”
“Whoa, girl, I was talking about the case.” He punched her lightly in the ribs. “Come on, I think I’ve found something.”
Excitement about a potential break in the case and her upcoming date with Ellen put her in a much better mood. “Excellent. Best news I’ve heard all day.”
Back in the war room, Danny was relieved to see Sarah sandwiched between her sidekick, Buckner, and a DPD detective who only had eyes for her chest. Sarah shot her a look that said save me, but Danny just smiled back. Save yourself, Hotshot.
She settled in across the room from Sarah and her fan club while George called everyone back into the room. As he reviewed some of the points he’d made earlier, she casually opened the envelope she’d received from the DA’s investigator and glanced at the contents. Just as she’d thought, it contained a full report on the death of Joyce Barr, age fifty-eight. Principal of an exclusive private school. Health history unremarkable. Death ruled a suicide. She turned pages until she found the cause of death. Cardiac arrest. She kept reading to figure out what had caused the heart attack. Two more pages and she found the photographs. First the body. Dark marks around her neck. She kept turning pages until she saw what she already knew was there. A photo of a noose. A coarse, rough rope hangman’s noose.
She didn’t have to be a fancy FBI profiler to know that suicide by hanging was pretty common. Danny recalled reading somewhere it was the second most common method of self-inflicted deaths among women. Mostly because it was fairly easy. Tie something around your neck and use some leverage to choke yourself to death. You’d lose consciousness, stop breathing, and eventually have a heart attack. If you were able to make a long drop after you had the makeshift noose around your neck, you might be lucky enough to sever your spinal cord and die more quickly.
But the noose in the picture wasn’t makeshift. It was professional. A classic hangman’s noose. The kind you see in old westerns. Tied with the perfect knot, it required forethought and skill.
And it looked exactly like the ones they’d found at every murder scene they’d investigated over the last month.
She heard her name and turned the autopsy report face down. Everyone in the room was staring at her. Had she said someth
ing?
George saved her. “I was just telling the group that we’d already been to visit the sorority’s executive director. She didn’t mention any of these other victims, but then again she may not know about the circumstances of their deaths. What’s your take on it?”
She had no idea what he was talking about. Unless he somehow knew about the file she’d just reviewed. Knew that Joyce Barr was an alumna of Alpha Nu. Knew that she had spoken with Ellen after they’d both met with her.
No, the envelope had been sealed. She’d just missed something he’d said while she looked through it. Better to confess she hadn’t been paying attention and get it over with. “Sorry, George. I missed what you said about the sorority.”
He shot her a curious look and then held up some papers. “I was telling the group that I’ve just learned that all of these women have a direct connection to Alpha Nu. Three of them were members, and one pledged, but dropped out shortly after. That last one may be why Davenport didn’t make the connection. If Sally Jones didn’t stick around long, the sorority may not have any records on her.”
The killer wanted Alpha Nu members dead? The realization rocked Danny. Did Ellen just work for the sorority or had she been a member herself? The potential danger fueled her anxiety. She needed to call Ellen, warn her.
But wait. Ellen already knew something. She’d been the one to give her the information on Joyce Barr. Information Danny knew she had to share, although she wasn’t at all sure she had a good explanation for why she had the information in the first place. She swallowed her fear and spoke. “There’s something else.” She rushed through the details in Barr’s file and then circulated the photo of the noose, while waiting for the inevitable question.
It came from Sarah. “Where did you get this?”
“I requested the file from University Park PD, but Ellen Davenport told me about the death. Said Barr’s family never believed it was a suicide.”
“How did she know about the noose?”
“She didn’t. At least I don’t think she did. She just thought the connection was the sorority. Frankly, I blew her off at first.”
“I guess that wasn’t the brightest detective work you’ve ever done. Oh, wait, you’re not a detective at all.”
“Guess I’m detective enough to follow up on a lead.”
George broke in. “Cool it. Danny’s right. We need to follow up on this. Flores, go see Davenport and get her to give up all their records. We need to know about any deaths among their members. Period. There’s bound to be more connections here. Check for links between the vics and their other members. Danny, work with Flores on this since you apparently already have a relationship with Davenport. I’d like to see if we can get what we want from her without a subpoena. Also, I want some assurance she’s not jacking with us and that what she told you is all she knows.”
While George barked orders to the rest of the room, Sarah shot her a snarky look that she ignored. She was too focused on George’s words. Relationship. Ha. She’d resigned herself to a relationship with Ellen that consisted of nothing more than fooling around, but now it looked like she wouldn’t even get that.
*
Ellen spent the afternoon shoving paper around her desk, while she replayed her earlier conversation with Danny. Maybe she’d misread the signs the night before. Danny was working on a big case. Of course she was tired. She’d promised her a meal, but instead she tried to climb in her lap. She should’ve been more subtle, worked her way in. She so wasn’t used to this. She should buy a new vibrator and call it quits. Or she could give it another try and do it right this time. First step, focus on something else until Danny called.
She cleaned her desk, organized her files, and made calls to a dozen well-heeled alumnae about their annual giving. When five o’clock finally rolled around, she felt justified in calling it a day. Better to spend her time waiting for Danny’s call with a glass of wine and a hot bath than pretending to work. Driving on autopilot with the sound of steady rain outside her windows, she almost didn’t hear her cell phone ringing. When she finally clicked to the fact she had an incoming call, she scrambled around in her purse but didn’t catch it before the caller rang off the line. In less than a minute, it dinged, telling her she had a voice message.
“Ms. Davenport, this is Dorothy Patterson with Cedar Acres. Please give me a call as soon as you get this message. We have a situation and I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”
Peeved that the message didn’t contain any details, Ellen chucked the phone on the seat and made an illegal U-turn. If she hurried, she could make it to Cedar Acres in twenty minutes.
During the frantic drive, the rain began falling in torrents, pounding out her ability to see. Any thoughts she’d had about calling Patterson back faded, as she needed both hands on the wheel to keep the buffeting winds from pushing her out of her lane. When she finally pulled up under the portico, she was tense from sharing the road with several semi trucks who left a wall of water in their wake and she was anxious about the reason for Patterson’s call. Surely if her mother had a medical emergency, they would have said so. Unless it was too late. Maybe they hadn’t wanted to break very bad news in a voice message. She jumped out of the car and tossed her keys to the valet before he had a chance to put his hand on the door handle. Once inside, she ran to the front desk and barked at the receptionist to page Mrs. Patterson.
A hand on her shoulder had her almost jumping out of her skin. Mrs. Patterson’s demeanor was calm, but her face expressed concern. “Why don’t you come with me?”
Ellen followed her over to the same couch where they’d had their last conversation about her mother. Perplexed by the seeming lack of urgency, Ellen asked, “Don’t sugarcoat it. Is she dead?”
“What?” Patterson shook her head. “Your mother? No, no, she’s fine.” She motioned for Ellen to take a seat. “I’m so sorry you drove all the way here with that image in your head. If you’d called, I would have set your mind at ease. Please accept my apologies.”
“What in the hell did your message mean then?” She took a deep breath and focused on tamping down her anger. “Sounded pretty ominous for someone who is ‘fine.’”
“She’s fine now, but she had an episode today and it was pretty severe. Somehow she found out about Marty Lawson. She got violent. Started talking about how she knew it would happen and that she would be next. I thought you should know that she’s aware of Marty’s death and that it has had a profound effect upon her.”
“What in the world did she mean by that? And I thought you said we’d deal with it when she found out. Doesn’t sound like it was dealt with very well.”
“She was lucid right before, but the news apparently caused her to regress. Honestly, I don’t know how she found out. Could be another resident heard it on the news, read it in the paper and then discussed it. She’s very social, you know.”
Ellen shook her head. Her mother had been the ultimate socialite in her circle, but here? With all these strangers? Difficult to believe. “I’m sure she tries to make the best of it. She’s big on keeping up appearances.”
“Would you like to see her in action?”
“Uh, sure.” She followed Patterson to the dining hall. Her stomach growled as they approached. Thank goodness this place had decent food. Maybe she could grab a bite before she braved the storm for the ride back to Dallas. Her thoughts stopped cold when she spotted her mother, laughing like a schoolgirl, seated with a group of men at least ten years her senior. What in the world was going on? She wouldn’t have been surprised to see Vivian with a group of women, sharing sedate, civilized conversation, but the way she preened and giggled, it almost looked like she was flirting.
“Who are those men?”
“They’re other residents.”
“And you let them leer at my mother? She’s a married woman. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“Neither do they.”
Ellen heard the slight reproach and ba
cked down. Of course. No one here knew what they were doing. That’s why they were here. “I’m sorry. It’s just…” She tried to nail down what was really bothering her. “I’ve never seen her like this. Is she always this way?”
Patterson shook her head. “Never. Not until this evening. Her episode this afternoon, after learning about Marty’s death, seems to have triggered this behavior. I apologize again for upsetting you, but I thought perhaps you might have some insight.”
Ellen, glued to the sight of her mother, the flirt, barely registered Patterson’s words. “Insight?”
“Clues as to why news of Marty’s death may have brought on this behavior. If we know more details, it can help us work with her on her memories. Processing them can lead to increased recall.”
“I don’t have a clue, but she sure seems happy.”
“She does. Do you want to visit with her?”
“I don’t want to interrupt.”
“She’ll be done soon. Have some food and then you can have some time with her.” Patterson frowned, “She hasn’t been with us since she heard the news, so I can’t guarantee she’ll—”
“I get it. She’s not going to know it’s me.”
“Highly doubtful.”
“It’s okay. I think I should spend some time with her, anyway. Besides, I’m starving and I have no desire to go back out into that storm.”
Ellen settled in across the room with a steaming chicken pot pie. Cedar Acres may be an institution in name, but every aspect of the place spoke home. With food that ranged from comfort to gourmet, rooms furnished according to individual taste, and common areas lined with plants and recognizable art prints, this “institution” felt more like home than the stiff, formal house she’d grown up in. Maybe it was time to change some things at home. Make it more her own. She considered discussing it with her father, but then her own memory kicked in and she realized he wouldn’t care. Her mother, her mother’s house, everything about her mother was her problem, her burden. Bill Davenport had moved on, and no way was she going to beg him for help anymore. She’d have to start spending more time here, making sure her mother got the care she needed.