Mirror Image: A Catrina Flaherty Mystery (Catrina Flaherty Mysteries Book 1)

by Pendelton C. Wallace

  "OH MY GOD. I think he's shot her."

  ****

  The explosion rocked the car. Blood spattered the windows. Mandy jerked to the side and slumped down in her seat.

  The concussion in the closed space stunned Dwayne. He sat looking at the gun in his hand, a loud ringing in his ears. Had he really done it?

  Dwayne looked at what was left of his wife. A chunk of her skull sat on the car's floorboards. Blood and brains dripped down her pretty flower print dress, the driver's window and windshield coated in blood and gray gunk. He looked at his pistol again and made a decision.

  ****

  Catrina dropped her phone and leapt from her car. She reached for her Glock. It wasn't there. In her hurry to get out, she had left it at the office.

  "Mandy," she shouted as she covered the few feet of pavement.

  A second explosion rocked the Toyota.

  The windows were splattered with blood, making it hard for Catrina to see inside. She opened the driver's door, and Mandy tumbled out. Catrina grabbed her and cradled her in her arms. She felt a faint trace of a pulse. "Mandy, oh Mandy." Tears flowed from Catrina's eyes.

  She looked over and saw Dwayne's blood covered corpse. "You bastard. YOU FUCKING BASTARD." Dwayne's corpse slumped against the passenger window.

  In the distance she heard police sirens. The kids! She had to check on the kids.

  She eased Mandy back into her seat and closed the door, then ran to Dwayne's car.

  "Are you guys okay," she asked as she opened Joyce's door.

  "Cat," Joyce wailed. "Daddy shot Mommy."

  ****

  Dwayne was dead, Mandy in Harbor View Hospital in Seattle on life support. Overwhelmed with guilt, Catrina bonded with Mandy's children.

  "Thank you Aunt Cattie," five year old Daniel said as he hugged Catrina and gave her a big smack on the cheek.

  Catrina hugged the boy tightly and kissed him back, tears forming in her eyes. She lowered the boy to the ground and accepted the hug from his eight-year old sister.

  "Thanks, Cat," Joyce said. "I loved the aquarium. Maybe next time we can go to the Science Center?"

  "Sweetie, you can go anywhere you like next time."

  Catrina said her goodbyes, hugged Mandy's mother and trudged back to her Explorer. Since the shooting, it seemed like everywhere she went, she was slogging through molasses.

  She climbed up to the driver's seat and turned on the ignition. The radio came on, set to KUOW, the local NPR station.

  "Ahead at two o'clock, we have startling new revelations in the Dwayne and Mandy Alcott murder/suicide. . . "

  Catrina had heard her fill of new revelations about the Alcott case. The local press was having a field day. Now that Dwayne was safely out of the picture, the News-Tribune came out with a series of stories, filled with insider quotations that shocked even Catrina's jaded mind. How could they print that stuff?

  Every time she turned on the TV, which she rarely did, a new channel had a gruesome story. Dateline and 48 Hours both ran segments on the gory incident.

  The Internet was on fire with the buzz. Several times a day one of Catrina's assistants showed her a new article or blog on the case.

  Seattle's two big dailies, the Times and the P-I, devoted hundreds of inches to the story. Now that it was all over, the press couldn't give Mandy enough attention. Where had they been when she needed help?

  The latest revelation was a news conference held yesterday by Dwayne's family. His mother took the microphone, but his father, all of his siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins stood behind her to show their solidarity.

  Mrs. Alcott told the running cameras that her son, Dwayne, was a good boy. Mandy was the real problem. Mandy had been lying to him and mistreating him since the day they got married. She was sure that Mandy was carrying on with other men. The fact that Dwayne had to be treated three times for STDs Mandy brought home should be proof enough.

  Then the abuse started. Mandy started hitting Dwayne and throwing things at him.

  Her son was a good man but every man has his breaking point. That witch had systematically pushed Dwayne past his.

  She couldn't excuse what Dwayne had done, but he felt trapped. He had no other way out. Mandy was filing false charges against him, dug up lies about him from his past; she was a vindictive witch that was out to ruin him.

  A red mist clouded Catrina’s vision. She pounded both fists on the steering wheel. "BITCH," she screamed at the radio. If only she hadn't taken that call. She could have gotten there before Dwayne. . .

  After a deep breath, Catrina put her truck in gear and pulled out of the driveway. A police cruiser blocked her path. The officer behind the wheel just stared icicles at her. Finally, Catrina backed up and drove around the cruiser.

  When she pulled into the Harbor View Hospital parking lot, her facade finally crumbled. Warm tears flowed down her cheeks and she couldn't stop shaking. She breathed in a series of short gasps. She pounded her fists on her thighs and let out a wail, then slumped her head against the window. Damn it. Now was not the time to go all girlie again.

  She failed. Mandy paid the price.

  Pulling herself together, she looked in her visor mirror, wiped away the tears, tried to repair what little makeup she wore, then entered the hospital.

  The nurse gave her the news; Mandy's family had decided to take her off of life support tomorrow.

  Catrina stopped at the door and looked at her client. Mandy's head was wrapped in bandages, her slight frame dressed in a standard issue hospital gown.

  Catrina sat on the chair beside Mandy's bed and took her hand.

  "Mandy? Can you hear me? God, I hope that you can." Tears flowed down Catrina's face. "I wanted to tell you that every thing's going to work out. Your Mom gets permanent custody of Joyce and Daniel. The judge refused to give Dwayne's mom visitation rights. His side of the family is out of the picture, permanently."

  Catrina couldn't contain herself. She collapsed in tears again, her head on Mandy's small chest. "Mandy, I'm so sorry," she said between sobs. "I should have done more. I should have been there sooner. I could have been there sooner. " She squeezed Mandy's hand harder and harder. "Can you ever forgive me?"

  The heart monitor kept up its steady beep-beep-beep.

  “I learned so much from this.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I let Jenn do everything by the book. Never again. I don’t care what the law says, I have to do what’s best for my clients. I need to protect them. Who gives a shit about courts and restraining orders?”

  Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I didn't know it before, but I swear to you, this will never happen again."

  Afterward

  If this is your first introduction to Catrina Flaherty, I hope you enjoyed reading about her. If you have read Hacker for Hire, then you already know Cat. If you haven’t read Hacker for Hire, go get a copy today. Cat teams up with Ted Higuera to form a crackerjack crime fighting team.

  The next Catrina Flaherty Mystery, Murder Strikes Twice, will be available in October 2015. This case leads Cat on a merry chase as she stalks a man who’s two wives both died in mysterious accidents.

  And keep following Ted, Chris and Cat’s adventures in the Ted Higuera Series. The Mexican Connection, takes our heroes deep into the heart of the Mexican drug wars. Bikini Baristas brings the gang back to Seattle where they search for a missing barista stand owner with a shadowy past.

  Here is a little preview from Murder Strikes Twice. I hope you enjoy it.

  Murder Strikes Twice

  The rock beneath her feet crumbled and Lauren fell into space. Plunging down the vertical cliff, her high-pitched scream echoed off the rocky precipice. At the one hundred foot mark, Lauren smashed into an outcropping of rock, her head sounding like a watermelon stuck by a mallet. The body slid and rolled down the embankment. Arms and legs tossed askew. Her ribs cracked and pierced her lungs.

  She came to rest at the bottom of the gorge, like a broken toy discar
ded in the back yard.

  Silence filled the chasm. Birds circled on the air currents high above the cliffs. The Montana sky was still a deep cerulean blue, green fir trees swayed to the breeze on the mountains slopes.

  The day went on, but Lauren lay lifeless at the foot of the cliff.

  ****

  On the cliff top, Lauren’s husband, Brody Barrett, gasped. “Oh shit.” He looked at his watch.

  3:30 pm.

  His cell phone rang.

  “Hi.”

  “Hello, Mr. Barrett,” the voice on the phone said. “I’m calling at 3:30 like you asked.”

  “Thanks, Tami. Can I talk to Debby?”

  There was a moment of silence, then a tiny voice came on the line. “Daddy?”

  “Hi, sweetheart. How’re you doing?”

  “Fine.”

  “I just wanted to say hello. Mom and I will be back soon. Love you.” Brody ended the call and dialed 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

  “M . . . M . . . My wife just fell off the cliff.” Brody’s voice shook as he spoke.

  “Where are you, sir?”

  “We’re on the Ptarmigan Falls Trail, about mile 2. Hurry. Please hurry.”

  Brody answered the operator’s questions and walked over to the ledge. He looked down to see Lauren’s body sprawled along the bottom of the gorge.

  He felt pretty good about himself. Not a bad performance.

  After a moment looking down at the site, Brody headed back to his Jeep, opened the door and reached in the ice chest to retrieve a bottle of water.

  He took a deep breath and tensed every muscle in his body, then slowly released the tension, starting at his feet and working his way up

  ****

  Budget cuts hit Glacier National Park hard. Being understaffed, it took a half-hour for the first rangers to arrive.

  “Mr. Barrett?” the young man in the Smokey the Bear hat asked as he climbed out of his Explorer.

  “Y-Y-Yes,” Brody stammered.

  “Where is she?” the ranger asked.

  Brody walked haltingly to the cliff’s edge. “She went over here,” he said, pointing down.

  “When did this happen?” the ranger asked as he made his way to the edge of the cliff.

  “I called right away.” Brody swiped the tears from his eyes. “It was what, maybe half an hour ago.”

  “Ed,” the ranger called back. “We’re going to need climbing gear. I think I should go down and see how she is.”

  The second ranger started pulling gear from the back of the SUV.

  “Sir, please step back from the cliff,” the ranger said as he piled gear on the ground. “We’re gonna send my partner over the cliff after her. We don’t want to go after two people.”

  “Can you tell me what happened, sir?” the first ranger asked.

  Show time!

  Brody took a deep breath. It looked like he would break into tears. “I . . . I . . . don’t know. She was snapping pictures. I heard my phone ring and came back to the Jeep to answer it. I . . . I . . . it was our daughter. She just wanted to say hi. When I turned back . . . Laurie was . . . gone.”

  Brody staggered and steadied himself against the Jeep.

  “Sir, I think you better sit down,” the ranger said as he moved beside Brody and grabbed his arm. “Here, sit in your Jeep.”

  Brody climbed in, put his head against the steering wheel and started crying.

  A call came over the radio and the ranger responded.

  Brody lifted his head slightly to watch the ranger on the radio.

  “We have an aid car on the way.” The ranger walked over to Brody’s Jeep and put his hand on Brody’s shoulder. “It’s gonna take a while, it has to come all the way from Kalispell. The Air Guard has a helicopter en-route.” He paused for a second. “Can I get you something?”

  “No . . . no . . . I’m fine.” Brody’s face turned white. “How . . . how . . . is she?”

  “We don’t know. We’re gonna go down the cliff and find out. You just sit here.”

  While the first ranger donned his climbing gear, the other passed attached one end of a rope to a winch on the front bumper of the Explorer, then tossed the rope over the cliff. He handed the end of a second rope to the first ranger who walked to the cliff’s edge. The second ranger put on leather gloves then took the rope, passed it around his back and braced himself against a rock.

  The first ranger turned to face the cliff and stepped off into space. He dropped about ten feet then swung into the cliff, pushed off the cliff and dropped another twenty feet. The second ranger let the rope pay out as the first bounced down the cliff face.

  It took a couple of moments for him to reach the bottom of the chasm. He unhooked the rope from his climbing harness and moved over to the still body on the ground. She looked like a rag doll, arms and legs spread out in impossible positions.

  He knew before he ever got close enough to touch her. The ranger knelt beside her and put his finger on her neck. No pulse.

  The ranger had seen dead bodies before. Vacationers found the most ingenious ways to get dead in the mountain park. He’d never seen anything like this. Blood oozed out onto the rocks, bones poked through her skin, her head was bashed open and her brains spilled onto the ground.

  He took a deep breath, turned and looked up at his partner standing on the cliff edge a hundred and forty feet above him. He keyed the mike on his radio. “Ed, she’s gone.”

  “Roger that.” Ed waved down to Steve then walked over to the Jeep.

  “Mr. Barrett, I can’t tell you how sorry we are . . .”

  Brody just stared into space.

  Two Years Later

  Catrina Flaherty was a fine-looking woman, despite the passage of time. On the wrong side of forty, she usually didn’t give a fig about what she wore or how she looked, she was all business. But tonight was an exception.

  The annual fund raiser for Jackie’s House, a shelter for victims of domestic violence, at the Fairmount Olympic Hotel in downtown Seattle, was a must do. Catrina, a member of the board of directors of Jackie’s House, was expected to attend this event. She might as well enjoy the chance to dress up for an evening.

  In a red low-cut, full length cocktail dress with a slit up the side that showed off her legs, Catrina knew she turned men’s heads. The three-inch heels made legs seem to go on forever.

  The party was like all the others. She met the moneyed gentry, shook hands, hugged women in designer evening wear and commented on how good everyone looked.

  This is the bull-shit I could do without.

  A petite middle-aged brunette approached her.

  “Cat, I thought you might be here.”

  “Alison, it’s good to see you again.”

  Catrina thought back to the murders in Alison’s company, Millennium Systems, the largest computer company is the world. Catrina ran down the killer of two people, one of whom didn’t deserve to die.

  “I want to introduce you to someone.” Alison shook Catrina’s hand then gestured to a good looking man in a dark suit. “Catrina Flaherty, I’d like you to meet John Wilkinson.”

  “Ms. Flaherty, pleased to meet you.” He eagerly held out his hand.

  Catrina shook it. He had a soft hands and a gentle handshake.

  “Nice to meet you too, John.”

  Wilkinson was definitely not her type. Several inches shorter than her, he was at least a decade younger.

  Why is everybody in hi-tech’s so young? What’s Alison thinking, dumping him on me?

  “John is the new VP of Security at Millennium Systems. I expect that you’re going to be working with him quite a bit. Oh, I see someone that I know. You kids have a good time.”

  Shit! That’s all I need, a love-struck puppy following me around.

  John couldn’t keep his eyes off of Catrina’s cleavage. She wanted to say “Hey, I’m up here,” but he was an important client.

  Oh well, let him look. He’ll never ge
t any closer than that.

  It took Catrina most of a half hour to shake the VP.

  The old girl’s still got it, she thought as she made her way to the hotel entrance.

  The party was over. It had been a long day and a longer night. The fact that her boyfriend, homicide detective sergeant Tom Bremen couldn’t attend the event with her made it seem even longer.

  Catrina retrieved her camel-hair coat with fur-lined collar and her umbrella from the hat-check and headed out into the evening chill.

  Parking in Seattle was as atrocious as the traffic. It was a long walk down Fourth Avenue to her car.

  She pulled her collar tight against the rain and chill and picked her way down the sidewalk, her heels clicking on the pavement.

  As she passed the alleyway beyond Madison Street, Catrina heard a woman scream. Her cop instincts immediately kicked in. She ran back to the alley.

  A large man in a black hoodie held a knife to the throat of a man in a tuxedo. The woman, in evening wear, screamed and held her hands to her face.

  “All right, bitch, cough it up,” Hoodie said. “I mean everything, wallet, watch, rings. And you, Mrs. Rich Bitch, I want your jewelry.”

  Catrina reacted instantly. “STOP!” She screamed in her best command voice. “POLICE, Let them go!”

  The man with the knife half turned towards her.

  She pulled off her raincoat and tossed it at the man’s head. He swiped the coat away with one arm, looked at the elegantly dressed woman and froze, his mouth hanging open.

  The couple backed away and took off running.

  In a second, Hoodie realized his prey was escaping and turned to run them down.

  Catrina threw her umbrella like a spear. It lodged between Hoodie’s legs and he crashed to the ground.

  He was up and running again before Catrina could catch up to him. This time, he had no intention of going after his victims; he ran for his life.