Crushed

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Crushed Page 4

by Kate Watterson


  “He thinks he can outsmart you.”

  “You tell me, you’re the psychologist.”

  Georgia said dryly, “I never planned on being a criminal psychologist, but I am always willing to help if I can. I usually counsel little old ladies to help their anxiety about walking their small dog in this wicked world. Look, let’s face it: You and Jason Santiago have worked some very high profile cases that have been all over the news.”

  “You think we’re specifically his enemy number one?” Ellie objected. “He can’t possibly know we’d even be assigned the case. There are other very competent homicide detectives that work for this city.”

  “You had a lot of press with some of your cases. And I’m not saying it is you and Detective Santiago specifically, but perhaps just law enforcement in general.”

  She considered. “Possible. But then why did he send me flowers?”

  That stopped Georgia in her tracks. “What? Why do you think so?”

  Ellie took another sip of wine before she explained. “Someone did. It wasn’t Santiago, because you know him, he wouldn’t deny it, and it wasn’t Bryce, because I called him and asked directly. No card, but a gorgeous bouquet of tulips that had to have cost a small fortune. They arrived just before we found the second body. Can I emphasize again, no card.”

  Georgia didn’t like that at all. “Can you trace the florist?”

  “The young man that delivered them did it when I wasn’t at my desk. A few people saw him pass by, but you know how that is, they were looking at the flowers. I pulled up the security tape and you can’t really see his face because of the bouquet, and it is very possible that he held it up deliberately just to make sure he couldn’t be identified. He wasn’t wearing a uniform of any kind and must have parked somewhere else and walked to the building. He did have brown hair and we have a witness from the first case that saw a man with brown hair pass by right after the body was discovered.”

  “That’s hardly conclusive.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “It could be that someone else sent the flowers but the card was lost somehow.”

  “True enough. I just think the timing is suspicious.”

  Georgia considered her friend and patient. “Ellie, you are a very pretty young woman. The admirer could just be shy.”

  “Or maybe a killer walked right into the police station and put flowers on my desk.” Ellie finished her wine. “I don’t usually operate on hunches, but I don’t ignore them either. I think he knew I would wonder if those flowers were from him.”

  Those intuitive instincts no doubt were part of what made her such a good cop. “I certainly wouldn’t ignore it if you have a bad feeling about it,” Georgia said evenly, since she had a bad feeling about it all as well. “Even animals like dogs or cats will take a dislike to someone they don’t even know. I believe firmly that while we function as intellectuals, under the surface we also operate that way. Studies have proved that infants and toddlers respond well to certain people, and will show instant aversion to others. They aren’t really thinking it over and analyzing a particular behavior at that age; it is how they feel. How do you feel?”

  Ellie looked away, apparently studying the wall. “Like I wish it was a ridiculous gesture from Jason, but like he pointed out when I accused him of it, he really wouldn’t do that at work. He can be irritating, but he takes the job very seriously. I completely believe him. As it stands, I look at those beautiful flowers and just think about two murdered people. If they are from that lunatic, will I ever be able to look at tulips again and not think of him?”

  Ever since they’d first met, Georgia had tried to decide if Ellie was too sensitive for her job. Just being intelligent and dedicated was probably a perfect combination, but separating emotion from it was probably healthier. Ellie didn’t—she couldn’t it seemed—and while it was best to have compassionate professionals protecting our streets, Georgia had always wondered about the personal toll it took on those individuals.

  She decided to weigh her words. “I believe that when you arrest him, and he goes on trial for murder, you will look at tulips and see justice.”

  “Thanks for the free session. I’ll be in touch.” Ellie rose, but paused halfway to the door to ask with a twitch of a smile, “Have you decided what you’re going to wear yet?”

  Georgia had been keeping an eye on the clock and said ruefully, “No, and I have maybe five minutes.”

  “I’m out of here. First date. Go feminine. Floral dress and some lip gloss. I hope you have a fun evening.”

  Probably good advice, and Georgia was someone who gave advice for a living.

  * * *

  Carl Grasso adjusted his tie, then decided against it altogether, stripped it off, and did the unthinkable and just tossed it onto the bed. He was tidy by nature, but running late.

  The gang-related murder was about as impossible as predicted and the lack of cooperation as anticipated. The bereft mother demanded an explanation and he didn’t blame her, but gang culture had a life of its own. They made their own laws and very few were based on the Constitution of the United States of America or state regulations.

  As he walked into the garage and carefully punched in the alarm system code, he thought that he’d had his fill of belligerent teens with more swagger than sense for the day. He wasn’t the enemy—at least in his mind—but even the ones with a fallen comrade didn’t care enough to cooperate, so the fallout was going to be self-inflicted. It was more than a little difficult to investigate with nothing but sullen silence from possible witnesses.

  He was going to put it out of his mind for the evening.

  It was a lovely one too, he saw as he backed out the car, with a hint of indigo in the darkening sky. Normally he would spend it alone, sipping scotch in a chair by the pool when it was warm enough, or else inside in the room that had used to be his father’s study, sitting in an old leather chair he should probably replace but knew he wouldn’t, feet up on the worn ottoman. Relaxation was an art form he’d discovered, and he was not a master at it.

  Practice hadn’t helped much.

  The address he arrived at was pricey, but that didn’t surprise him. The building had a sleek lobby, and he noted the security system with a practiced eye before being promptly buzzed up when he pressed the button.

  Georgia Lukens answered the door wearing a gauzy skirt and pale blue blouse, her hair in a much more casual style than when he’d seen her at her office, softening her face. She was one of those women who wasn’t classically beautiful but managed to be strikingly attractive anyway. He’d met her on a case when MacIntosh had been injured and off the job so he’d stepped in, and out of the blue decided to call Dr. Lukens and ask her to dinner. No one was more surprised than he was. Impulsive was not his style.

  Essentially, Georgia was the one to apprehend the murderer in that case, so they’d spent some time together when she was detained for questioning. He’d had to do most of it, and it was an interesting way to start a possible relationship.

  “Lieutenant. Please come in.” She stood back.

  The space was comfortable and he could see her choosing the furnishings with an eye to function, and yet her style was reflected as well. Soothing, but underneath there was sophistication and quiet drama. A cream-colored couch, but a painting above that reflected a sunset in vibrant colors over a tranquil ocean. A glass coffee table, but warm walnut shelves holding books on the walls. The contrast was effective.

  “A glass of wine, or do you prefer something else?” She had two glasses set out and the wine was breathing.

  “Wine is fine.” He admired the graceful column of her neck. “Thank you for suggesting dinner here and taking the trouble to make it. I don’t cook a lot for myself. It is on my self-improvement list, but it’s been there for quite a while, right along with training for a marathon and painting the hallway. I might have updated that list about fifteen years ago.”

  She laughed. “Most restaurants are too
loud. This way we can talk to each other.”

  It was what she did for a living … talking to people. Not his forte at all. He found out about their problems in a different way. He delved into their secrets and didn’t wait for them to reluctantly reveal them.

  He didn’t dissemble. “I agree. I’m more than interested in a quiet evening. And it smells wonderful already in here.”

  “Thank you. Have a seat.” She pointed at a navy chair that was modern and matched the vibe of the place exactly. Maybe he should have her come redecorate his house. “By the way, you just missed Ellie MacIntosh by about ten minutes.”

  He’d thought about the implications of maybe dating someone who saw several of his colleagues. Purely by accident he knew Ellie saw Georgia, and not so quite by accident he knew Jason Santiago went to her too. He said succinctly, “Park Bench Killer case?”

  She deftly poured wine into two glasses. “Let’s say that it wasn’t a private session, but if you want to know why she was here, just ask her. I take confidentiality seriously, so any secrets you reveal are safe with me.” Georgia settled into an opposite chair after handing him his glass. “She sometimes just talks out loud to me. I think she believes she’s getting advice. I think she’s just working it through all on her own. I don’t do much but listen.”

  Ellie was a good cop. He might go so far as to say she was a brilliant cop. He thought he fell into that same category. “Did you get the impression she was on the right track?”

  “Maybe.” Georgia considered him over the rim of her glass and hit a slam dunk. “You’re interested in her case?”

  “More than the one I’m assigned to right now.” Why lie to a therapist? They probably took one look and knew all. At least the good ones did. “I have a frustrating murder that involves a lot of people who just don’t want to tell the truth. In fact, they don’t want to tell me anything. They don’t want it solved. It’s like banging your head against a wall. Besides the victim’s mother, I am the only who cares, and half the time I think I care more than she does.”

  “Oh, you and I have a lot to talk about. People skirt around the real issues in their lives, and like you, I’m the detective, trying to figure it all out. I’d like to say on average I manage to see the light, but not always. A recent case for your department comes to mind.”

  He liked her. Especially he liked her sense of presence and her self-possession, because she didn’t need him for anything except his company. He’d met way too many women who realized he drove an expensive car and lived in a neighborhood of old money and were suddenly warm and friendly. “That was an interesting one.”

  Dr. Lukens gave him a rueful smile. “I’ll say. I missed the mark there.”

  “You hit the mark, actually.” She had literally shot the murder suspect. “But you acted in a good cause when you shot your patient. Otherwise MacIntosh wouldn’t be dropping by, because she wouldn’t be around.”

  “Not an easy decision.”

  “I agree. I’ve had to make it myself once or twice.”

  “I know.” She said it matter-of-factly, but obviously knew he’d been reprimanded once for a double shooting that he still maintained was self-defense. It haunted him he’d taken two lives, but he’d made the right choice. If he didn’t believe that he wouldn’t still be on the job.

  He kept his tone neutral. “Just because it seems like the only course of action at the moment, it doesn’t mean everyone agrees with us. I have the attitude that unless you are standing right there in our shoes, you can’t judge what happened.”

  “That is very true. Change in subject? What a pleasant evening.” She had nice long legs and crossed them, maybe just so he’d notice. He did, and was more than happy to abandon what they were currently discussing.

  She asked him, “Do you like eggplant?”

  That was an interesting question. He had no idea what she was making for dinner. He was a fairly direct person, so after a pause, he admitted, “Well, to be honest, not usually.”

  Her eyes glimmered. “We now have something in common, Lieutenant. We both don’t like eggplant. Do you like to snorkel?”

  “I’m sorry, but no. I always seem to inhale half the ocean.”

  She said serenely, “We are on a roll then.”

  Chapter 5

  He had an idea.

  Risky, but he was up for that.

  This was catching fire.

  He wasn’t positive he was hiding it all that well either.

  “Are you coming to bed?” Alissa’s voice sounded off-key. She wore a fluffy robe that made her look even more overweight, which she complained about constantly, but he wasn’t sure she did anything about. He was tired of her. When he’d met her she’d been slim and vibrant.

  At one time he had maybe known this hunger was there, but he denied it.

  They were really both at fault.

  “I’m just fooling around on the computer,” he said calmly. “I can’t sleep, so might as well. There’s a couple of projects at work that can use my attention.”

  “Your messed-up sleep patterns bother me.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m serious.”

  So was he. Dead serious. “I’m good.”

  * * *

  “What are we doing here?”

  “I need some ketchup.”

  It was at least a testament to their association that Ellie completely disregarded his remark with a small snort. “For what? Frozen Tater Tots?”

  “I swear I bake them first.” Jason headed for the service desk. “Still frozen even I can’t eat them. I tried it once and it was a less-than-satisfying experience.”

  The older woman at the supermarket counter took her time ignoring them until Santiago produced his badge. He said, “Excuse me. Milwaukee Homicide. Can we see whoever handles your flowers?”

  Her rudeness didn’t completely evaporate. She squinted at his badge. “What? Did someone beat someone to death with a bouquet or something?”

  He didn’t skip a beat either. “Florist crimes are really on the rise. Can we talk to her or him?”

  “Her. Tammy. I’ll call her up front here.”

  “That will be helpful.” He flashed a boyish smile he must save for women over a certain age, because Ellie certainly didn’t see it often.

  She wished she could say she was one thousand times smarter than him, but Ellie wasn’t positive that when it came to police work Santiago wasn’t at least more on the game. They stood aside waiting for the floral clerk and she had to ask, “Why are we here again?”

  “The tulips, if that is even a lead, were bought at a grocery store. I’m pretty ticked off, by the way. I didn’t get any flowers. What am I? Not even worthy of a couple of dandelions or something? Jeez.”

  “How the hell do you know that? There must be hundreds of places that sell flowers in a city this size.”

  “I have super, secret special powers you don’t even know about, but if you’re willing to learn about them, I’m willing to share.” He made his eyebrows go up and down in what she supposed he thought was his interpretation of a corny leer.

  She sighed. “Just tell me and skip the world’s worst sexual innuendos.”

  “There are times when you just have no sense of humor.” He shook his head. “I thought that was pretty good.”

  “I might take out my service weapon and use it on you now. It has occurred to me before. Talk to me. How?”

  “It isn’t complicated. They smelled to me like grocery store flowers, and this place is near the park.”

  “They smelled like tulips.” Ellie stepped aside for a woman who wanted to buy a magazine.

  “You see, as someone who has always lived on a limited income provided by the taxpayers, I don’t indulge in florists. If I buy a lady flowers, I do it at the grocery store, and if you’ve been in one, there’s a grocery store smell. You happen to be in one now.”

  She was more than dubious. “That might be the most ridiculous thing I�
�ve ever heard.”

  “If you have a better lead, I’m standing right here wondering if they have toilet paper on sale, so go ahead and tell me and take my mind off of that. Maybe we should get a cart.”

  Ellie didn’t hit him. Not with witnesses all around, but it was tempting.

  And to make it worse than his irreverent sense of what he thought was humor, it turned out he was right.

  Tammy, when she arrived, confirmed a little old lady had come in on the same day Ellie got the enormous vase of flowers and bought every single one.

  Which made no sense.

  Until the cashier remembered that the customer mentioned a man had paid her twenty bucks to buy them for him.

  Okay, that was interesting.

  Ellie wasn’t positive it was a lead of any kind. But sometimes it worked that way, and it was some decent police work. “I don’t suppose the little old lady paid with a credit card, right?”

  “Nope.” Tammy, young and with long dark hair, looked apologetic. “Cash he gave her. I kinda thought it was weird too.”

  They hashed it out driving back.

  Ellie said, “So we have no idea who she is, and no idea who he is, and absolutely no idea if someone buying tulips and sending them to me has any significance to the two murders. Have I got that right?”

  “You do, but there’s a caveat here.”

  “Your ability to mangle the English language never fails to amaze me. What?”

  “What the hell? I think I used that word correctly.” Jason looked about as offended as he ever could look, and he was nearly impossible to offend. However, she suspected half of the time he used the wrong word just to annoy her.

  “Please tell me why you think this is helpful information.”

  “The clerk said that lady shops there often enough she recognized her. She didn’t know her name, but she’d get it for us the next time she waited on her. I gave her my card and she promised she’d call. Maybe we can get a description.”

  Witnesses were so notoriously forgetful of details that it probably wouldn’t help, but was worth a shot.

  “Could be useful if A plus M plus W equals Z. In other words, a giant leap.”

 

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