Targeted: A Ray Schiller Novel (The Ray Schiller Series Book 3)

by Marjorie Doering

  “I’m just making sure nothing got left behind.”

  “Then you must know where to take whatever you find.” When he didn’t respond, Liz sighed at his silence. “All right. If you won’t tell me where she is, will you at least give me a number where I can reach her? She could probably stand to hear a friendly voice.”

  “Sorry, no can do.” Waverly looked her up and down from head to toe, making no secret of studying the emblem on the side of her shoe. “Etonics. You prefer those to Nike?”

  “They’re both good.” Liz straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Detective Waverly, but I’ve got patients to care for.”

  He stood and motioned to the door. “Sorry, Ms. Dunham. You go ahead. I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

  Thirty seconds later, he left the room as well.

  In Eden Prairie, Ray’s garage door inched its way up at what seemed like half its normal pace. He considered backing the car inside, but decided against it. He wanted everything to look perfectly normal—wanted nothing to attract unwanted attention. He drove forward until the windshield kissed the yellow tennis ball dangling from a fishing line attached to a rafter.

  Lying in the backseat, Amy tried to right herself.

  “Hold it,” Ray said. “Don’t get up yet.” He watched in the rearview mirror as he tapped the remote again. “Let the door close first.”

  It inched downward in the same slow-motion way it had risen. As it reached the three-quarter point of its descent, Ray slid out of the car and removed the collapsed, motorized wheelchair from the trunk.

  As the garage door met the driveway, the connecting kitchen door opened wide. Gail stood with one hand on the knob, the other on the doorjamb. “Hi. You finally made it. I was afraid something had gone wrong. Where’s Amy?” She looked past him and saw a head and shoulders come into view. After a quick wave hello, she asked Ray, “Can I help?”

  “Yeah.” He passed the wheelchair to her. “Take this thing and get it set up for me.”

  She took it from him, surprised at how light he had made it look. Hauling the contraption inside, she left the door open and struggled to set up the wheelchair while watching Ray tend to Amy.

  “You okay?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine.”

  He lifted her from the vehicle and carried her over the threshold like a new bride. “Do you have the wheelchair ready yet, Gail?”

  “Almost.”

  Ray swept past with Amy bundled in his arms. “Bring it into the living room when you’re done.”

  He carried Amy through the kitchen to the loveseat in the living room as Gail saluted him behind his back.

  “How’s this?” he asked Amy.

  “It’s fine. Thanks.”

  Doing her best to smile, Gail pushed the wheelchair into the room behind them. “Well, that was a grand entrance.”

  “More embarrassing than grand,” Amy said. “I’m not used to being lugged around like a load of wet laundry. I want to thank you and Ray for what you’re doing for me, Gail. I’m very grateful.”

  “It’s nothing.” Gail turned to Ray. “Were you able to get Amy out of the hospital without her being seen?”

  “Everything went according to plan,” he said.

  “Some plan,” Amy scoffed. “I hope I never have to go through anything like that again. They put me on a gurney, covered me from head to toe like a corpse and wheeled me down to the hospital morgue.”

  “The morgue?”

  “It was the best way,” Ray said. “We had a hearse ready to transport Amy from there to a funeral home where I picked her up.”

  Gail shuddered. “Well, not a great experience, but effective, I suppose.”

  “I shouldn’t complain,” Amy said. “As long as it worked, I guess it was worth the creep-out factor.” She looked around the room. “Where are your kids?” she asked.

  “We thought it was best for them to stay somewhere else for the next couple of days,” Ray told her.

  “Oh.” Amy’s body seemed to sag under the burden of that knowledge. “My being here has got to be a huge nuisance for both of you. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” Gail said. “We made the decision.”

  Amy reached out unexpectedly and took Gail’s hand in her own. “You’re downplaying the inconvenience, but I realize how much trouble you’re going through for me. While I’m here, I’d like to be a help instead of a hindrance. If there’s anything I can do, I hope you’ll let me know.”

  “Thanks.” Gail slipped her hand away. “Can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry?”

  “No, I’m good. I’m sorry I won’t get to see the girls and…it’s Joey, right?”

  “Yes. Well, maybe some other time,” Gail said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d better go check on supper.”

  A minute later, the phone rang. Gail stuck her head through the kitchen door a few seconds later. “Honey, it’s Dick.”

  “If you’ll help me into the wheelchair first,” Amy told Ray, “I’ll see if I can give Gail a hand.”

  “Sure, give me a second.” He picked up the phone in the living room. “Hang on, Dick, I’ll be right back.” He helped Amy into the wheelchair and watched as she propelled herself across the room. He picked up the handset again. “I’m back.”

  “How’d things go on your end, buddy?”

  “Smooth as silk. We got her out of the morgue and to the funeral home without a hitch. The trip here didn’t present any problems either.”

  “Great. Hey, I thought you might like to know Liz Dunham showed up in Amy’s room right after you left. Our little sleight-of-hand trick really pissed her off. She was determined to find out where we stashed her. When she couldn’t get that outta me, she tried to get a phone number where she could reach her.”

  “I’m not surprised. She the take-charge type.”

  “Yeah, a take-charge type with wide feet. It got me thinking about those shoe prints on Amy Conley’s storage bench,” Waverly said.

  “What about them?”

  “Most of the usable prints came from the toe portion of the soles. Tell me something, buddy. When you checked the bulbs in the Conleys’ house, you used a stepstool.”

  “Yeah, I needed one.”

  “Was it taller or shorter than that storage bench the shoeprints were on?”

  “The bench was higher by about five inches. Maybe six. Why? Where are you headed with this?”

  “Hang on. One more thing. When you used the stepstool to check the bulbs, were you standing flatfooted?”

  “Just barely. If the ceiling had been any higher, I’d have had to stand on my… ” The gist of Waverly’s questions finally registered. “Damn. Okay, I see where you’re going with this. The prints were probably from the front portion of the soles because the shooter had to stand on the balls of his feet to reach the bulbs.”

  “Yup, that’s what I’m thinking,” Waverly said. “And if he was standing five or so inches higher than you to begin with, then—”

  “Then our perp has to be short,” Ray concluded ahead of him.

  “Exactly,” Waverly said. “I’ll get the exact height of the storage bench and the distance to the light fixtures. With a little calculating, we should be able to come up with our perp’s approximate height.”

  “Larry Benedict could fit the bill,” Ray suggested.

  “Yeah. I’m still not sure his alibi isn’t pure fiction, but he and his lady friend in St. Paul are sticking by their story. Which reminds me… I had a heart-to-heart discussion with Benedict about that nude photo of Jessica Hall earlier today. His story matches hers. The jerk admits to snapping that picture, then passing it on to Hugh Conley like some kind of party favor. What an asshole.”

  “Do you want tell Amy, or do you want me to do it?”

  “You go ahead, Ray. Don’t keep her waiting; it’s about time she got some good news.”

  34

  Ray and Waverly ended their phone call as Amy wheeled
herself from the kitchen into the dining room, utensils and napkins in hand. He caught a familiar scent coming from the kitchen—beef stroganoff. Between that and the cloth napkins, it could only mean one thing: banana split cheesecake for dessert. Gail was going all out.

  “Amy,” he said, “could I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, you’ll want to hear this. It’s about your friend Jessica.”

  “My ex-friend you mean,” Amy said.

  “Not according to my partner. He says Larry Benedict confirmed her story. He’s the one who took that picture and then gave it to your husband. She was telling you the truth.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Amy buried her face in her hands, crying.

  “That’s got to lift a huge weight off your shoulders,” Ray said.

  “Yes, but I treated her like dirt. I barely gave her a chance to explain, and when she did, I called her a liar. I wouldn’t blame Jessie if she decided not to have anything more to do with me. I’ve got to call her right now and apologize.”

  “Sorry, you can’t do that; it could be dangerous.”

  “Ray, it’s not like I’m going to tell her where I’m calling from. I only want to tell her how sorry I am.”

  “I understand, Amy, but it’ll have to wait. She’ll understand.”

  After dinner, Amy withdrew to the guestroom. An overwhelming sense of guilt ran neck and neck with her relief over Jessica’s innocence. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d condemned her in the blink of an eye and then allowed her a paltry five minutes to salvage their relationship. The need to apologize began to feel less like an impulse than a compulsion.

  She heard Ray’s admonition again. “It’ll have to wait.” She realized he was being cautious, but one brief call? Amy went to the guestroom and tried to focus on a book she found on a shelf there. Three chapters in, she heard a tap on her door.

  “Come in.”

  Gail stuck her head inside. “Ray and I are going to put a movie in the DVD player. Would you like to join us?”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll read a little more.”

  “You sure? I’m going to make some honest-to-goodness homemade popcorn. Melted butter and all.”

  “Okay, you’ve sold me. I can’t remember the last time I had that.”

  “Good. Come get a good spot.” Gail held the door open as Amy wheeled herself into the living room. “Let me help you onto the couch. It’s got to be a lot more comfortable than that wheelchair.”

  Gail helped her hop to the end of the couch and get situated.

  “Where’s Ray?” Amy asked.

  “He’s rummaging around through our DVD collection. It usually takes him awhile to make up his mind what film he’s in the mood for. Will you hold down the fort while I get the popcorn going?”

  “Sure.” Amy found herself alone in the room, the landline phone within reach beside her. She tried to pay it no attention. For a minute, then two, she succeeded. She heard Gail humming to herself in the kitchen while Ray was still in search of a good movie.

  Cautiously, she lifted the handset and tapped in Jessica’s number.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

  Even in her pain-medicated haze, Amy hesitated. There was still time to hang up—time to abide by Ray’s wishes, but in a hoarse whisper, she said, “Jessie, it’s me…Amy. I’m so sorry for not believing you. Can you forgive me?”

  “Amy, I can barely hear you.”

  “I can’t talk any louder.” Pots clanked in the kitchen, but she kept her voice low, watching for Ray. “Jessie, I should have known you’d never do that to me.”

  Her laidback attitude still intact, Jessica said, “Forget it. I know how bad it looked.” There was a brief pause. “Where the hell are you? The three of us have been racking our brains, trying to figure out where they carted you off to. I called Nicki; Nicki called Liz. Where’d they stash you?”

  Amy cupped her hand around the mouthpiece. “I can’t tell you that. I’m not even supposed to be calling you, but I’m fine. I only called because I had to, Jessie. I had to apologize.”

  “Don’t worry it; we’re good,” she told Amy.

  From the kitchen, Gail shouted, “Ray, you’d better hurry; the popcorn’s almost ready.”

  Over the puh, puh, puh sound of exploding popcorn kernels, Ray shouted back, “I’ll be right there, Gail.”

  “My God!” Jessica said. “I know where you are. You’re at—”

  “Have to go!” In a panic, Amy hung up as Ray stepped into the living room.

  “Hey,” he said, “I’m glad to see you’re up for cinema night at the Schillers’.” Studying the DVD cover, he walked to the couch. “It was between a chick flick for the females in the audience and an action movie for me. I compromised.” He held up a case that read To Kill a Mockingbird. I hope you like Gregory Peck.” He laughed. “Maybe you don’t even know who he is.” He looked at her more closely as he got nearer. “You’re trembling.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she said. “I was scared to death you’d show up with The Three Stooges or something,”

  Cop senses tingling, he studied Amy a second longer as Gail stepped into the room carrying a huge bowl of buttered popcorn.

  “What are we watching?” she asked. Ray held up the DVD case. “Good. That works for me.”

  In that fleeting moment, Ray had an uneasy feeling he’d missed something important.

  With the scent of popcorn still lingering in the house, Amy excused herself for the night. Ray followed Gail upstairs almost but not quite too tired to notice the seductive sway of her trim hips as he climbed the stairs behind her.

  She walked into their bedroom and slipped off her blue, front-pleated blouse. “I don’t know about you, Ray, but I’m exhausted.”

  Stepping behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Today was pretty tense. Tomorrow things will be better.” Relishing the citrus fragrance of her hair, Ray lowered his head and kissed the nape of her neck.

  She turned and slipped her arms around him. “I’m already looking forward to having the kids home and the house to ourselves again.”

  “Me, too.” Taking her hands in his, he held them to his chest, saying, “That meal you fixed tonight was fantastic, but you don’t need to keep that up for Amy’s benefit.”

  Gail slipped her hands from his. “I’m just being hospitable.”

  “She isn’t the queen of England, babe.” He cupped her face between his palms. “The place is spotless and the meal was great, but relax; you don’t need to impress her.”

  “Maybe I did it to impress you, smart guy.”

  He grabbed her in a playful hug. “In that case, you really didn’t have to bother; you’ve got me in a constant state of awe.” A soft cat-like growl rumbled in his throat as he nipped her earlobe. “For the next couple of days, you might as well make it easy on yourself and keep things simple.” He let go and chucked her under the chin. “I doubt she cares one way or the other, and if she does, too bad.”

  Gail stepped away in her bra and dress slacks, both hands on her hips. “You’re a fine one to talk. Who served her coffee in a china cup tonight? We haven’t used anything but mugs in years.”

  “Touché.” He sat down on a corner of the bed. “Okay. No more special treatment from either of us.”

  Gail reached behind her back to unfasten her bra.

  “Don’t,” Ray said. “I need to talk to you, and the odds of my staying on track get slimmer with each hook you unfasten.”

  Gail stopped and grinned. “Oooh, that’s nice to hear. You just made my day.”

  He gave her a wicked wink. “I’d like to make your night, too, but I’d better put that plan on hold for a couple more days.”

  Gail let her hand trail down his jawline. “That’s a real shame.” She stepped into their walk-in closet and came out wearing nothing but a long, lavender robe. “Okay. What is it you want to talk to me about, hon?”

&
nbsp; Tied loosely, the fabric parted over a slim thigh. Ray’s eyes trailed from Gail’s cleavage to her leg. He tried to stay focused on her face. “I just want to go on record and say I think you’re terrific for putting Amy up here.”

  “Thanks. Is that it?”

  “No. I wanted to apologize for today.”

  “For today,” she repeated, clearly puzzled. “Care to be more specific?”

  “Not really. It’s an all-inclusive sort of thing that I’d like to apply to any and all lapses, omissions, and oversights I committed since I got out of bed this morning. Like I said, it’s been a tense kind of day.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  He kissed her, then reluctantly broke contact. “I’ve been up here longer than I planned. I’d better get back downstairs.” He went to his dresser, pulled out a long-forgotten pair of pajamas and got his robe from the closet. “Babe, where are our extra comforters?”

  “In the linen closet. Why?”

  “I’m going to need one.”

  “What for?”

  With the sound of his apology barely fading in the room, Ray said, “With Amy on the first floor, I’ll have to sleep on the couch to stay close.”

  “Then you’ll be needing this, too.” Gail flung his pillow at him, hitting him in the head with an audible ‘whoomp’. “You just go ahead and do that, Ray.”

  35

  The next morning, Gail opened one eyelid and was greeted by full daylight. Reaching over, she realized the space beside her was empty. It took a second before she remembered Ray had taken up temporary residence on the couch downstairs.

  She checked the alarm clock on her nightstand. 9:02 AM. Both eyelids shot open like they were spring-loaded. Rushing out of bed, she hurried to the first floor, throwing on her robe along the way. From the top of the steps, she spied the empty couch with the blue, floral comforter folded neatly on an armrest beneath Ray’s pillow.

  Tying the belt on her robe, Gail hurried through the living room and dining room. At the threshold to the kitchen, she came to an abrupt stop. Steam spiraled from their coffee mugs as Ray and Amy sat side by side at the kitchen table.