by Ronica Black
“I take it telling her you’re a lesbian doesn’t work?”
“No. She says she’s trying to find me the right man.”
He shook his head. “I would tell your parents. Just say you aren’t coming if she’s planning on bringing a man for you. Tell them it makes you feel uncomfortable. Maybe then they’d understand why you avoid coming around.”
They sped past towering palms blowing in the breeze. Golf course after golf course. When they reached a cluster of low-lying mountains serrated against the dark blue sky, they slowed and crawled up to a residential gate. Finley eased down the window and pressed the call button to announce their presence. A woman responded and the gate slowly swung open. They drove on and wound through the wealthy neighborhood playing host to large homes with circular drives and long flanking driveways leading to multiple car garages. The homes were all mostly lightly stuccoed with contrasting Spanish tiled roofs. It reminded Maria of the song, “Pink Houses.” She inhaled the freshly cut grass as yard workers manicured lawns with loud mowers, leaf blowers, and weed whackers. Middle-aged women in sun visors power walked along the sidewalks, women on a mission. Everyone was tan, coated with sweat, and eagerly moving with purpose. Even the dogs being led on leashes seemed determined and ambitious. All of them out to beat the storm.
“Nice neighborhood,” she said. “What do you think these homes go for?”
“I don’t know. Probably a few mil, easy.”
“I can see how this would impress the ladies,” Maria said. From what they knew, Hale was all about impressing, no matter who he was entertaining.
“Got that right.”
Finley slowed and they pulled onto an elaborate cobblestoned drive, rounding to the front of a vast, two-story home. The walls were stuccoed a light beige and topped with dark brown tiled roofing. A large ceramic sun matching the roof hung above the front entryway. Finley put the vehicle in park, and Maria tried to breathe easy, enjoying the darker shade from the numerous trees. The clouds were thick with rain now. Ready to pop. The heat was only encouraging a downfall.
“I’m pretty sure I’m stuck to this seat,” she said, crawling from the car.
Finley stood too and plucked at the back of his golf polo style shirt. She could see the dark stain running down the center, and she knew her own light colored blouse probably looked similar.
They stepped up to the front door. “Hope she’s nice,” Finley said, bouncing on his feet.
“She sounded very nice on the phone.”
Maria rang the bell and Finley peeled off his sunglasses. The door opened almost immediately, showing them a young looking middle-aged woman in a white skirt, navy blouse, and matching short white jacket.
“Hello, please come in.” She ran a nervous looking hand through her raven hair and pressed her lips together for a smile.
They entered and exchanged handshakes.
“Melanie Prague, pleased to meet you.”
Her smile looked warm, and Maria felt her own frame relax as they moved into the house. Finley seemed to drop his guard too as they walked into a sunken sitting room where they found tea on a silver tray.
“Tea?” She motioned for them to sit.
Maria waved her off politely, but Finley sat and awaited a cup.
“First of all, let me tell you how sorry we are for your loss,” Maria said.
“Yes, please forgive us for our delay in seeing you,” Finley said. “We’ve been so busy with the case…and you weren’t here the day our team came to go over his things…”
She held up a hand and sat across from Finley. “Please, I know how busy you’ve been. I’ve been equally as busy with closing out all his affairs. Hale lived a very busy life as you can imagine.”
“Yes, of course.” Maria glanced around and saw stacks of boxes marked “kitchen” and several stacks of garment bags with what she assumed to be suits in them. It seemed as though Melanie was packing up his home as well as getting his affairs in order. And so soon after their own team had been through it. She wondered what the rush was. She crossed slowly to peek in the other rooms. Boxes filled those rooms as well, leaving only furniture. Was this because of Hale’s family or was this all Melanie’s doing?
“He was quite the businessman,” Maria added as she reentered the room.
Melanie smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“And…we hear he was quite the ladies’ man as well,” Finley said.
Maria studied her for a reaction, but Melanie remained poised. “I don’t really feel it’s my place to discuss Hale’s private life.”
“How long did you work for Hale?”
Melanie looked to Maria. “Ten years.”
Finley slurped his tea. “Now that Hale’s dead, there’s no need for secrecy.”
Melanie cleared her throat. “It’s out of respect, sir. He paid me well to keep such matters behind closed doors.”
“He ever put the moves on you?” Finley asked.
Melanie straightened. “No, he did not.”
Maria smiled in return. “Mrs. Prague.”
“Miss. I divorced last year.”
“Ms. Prague, we understand the delicateness of your job as Hale’s personal assistant, but Hale was murdered, and frankly, we have no time for secrets or respect, as you call it. We need to know about his private life. And we need to know about it now.”
She shifted but did not speak.
“A beautiful woman like you and he never made a move? Not even a suggestion?”
She shot Finley a dangerous look. “I’ve already answered that question.”
“Who was he last seeing?” Maria asked.
Melanie stood. “I’m not sure. But I have his appointment book.” She left the room, and Finley made a whistle between his teeth.
“She’s ice.”
“She’s professional,” Maria said. “But yes.”
Melanie reentered carrying a leather-bound book. “He refused to keep an electronic schedule. Said he needed things written down. He carried it everywhere during the day. “I’ve had it with me, calling everyone, closing things out.”
She handed it to Maria who opened an evidence bag for her to drop it into.
“The last entry before his death is highlighted. The entry is handwritten by me, and then he made some notes next to it. I don’t know what they mean.”
“What was the entry?”
“Anniversary party at the country club.”
Maria sealed the bag. “Were you there that evening? At the country club?”
“No.”
“Where were you?” Finley asked.
“At home.”
“Can anyone collaborate that?”
She returned to her seat. “Yes. A…lover. If it’s necessary.”
“Name?” Maria asked.
“I…I’m not sure. It was a one-night thing.”
Finley’s eyebrows shot up. “We’re going to need it.”
“I don’t know how to find it. We both had had a lot to drink.”
“Where did you meet?” Maria asked.
“At a lounge. We met over drinks. Is this really necessary? I mean I can’t possibly be a suspect. With Hale gone, I’ve lost my income, my important contacts.” She laughed a little as if they were being ridiculous.
“We’ll still have to check that out,” Finley said. “Procedure.”
She eventually nodded. “I’ll see what I can get you.”
“Please do.” Maria knew almost all they needed to know about Melanie, but they had to be sure and cover their bases. Most of Hale’s close associates were hesitant about their private affairs so it didn’t surprise her that Melanie seemed to be as well. What was surprising was the drop in temperature from her. Maria swore she could almost see her breath in her icy wake.
“Do you know of anyone who wanted to hurt Hale? An ex? A husband of a sex partner, something like that?”
“I would say no. I mean I’d like to say no, but Hale had enemies.” She met Maria’s gaze
. “Most of them women. He…put them off you see.”
“Yeah, we know,” Finley said.
“Anyone specific you can think of?”
She cocked her head. “Like I said, I tried to stay out of his private affairs, but he did have strong hate for Avery Ashland. How she felt about him…well, I don’t think that’s any secret.”
Finley set down his tea mug. “What do you think? Could Ashland murder Hale?”
“I-I never met the woman. But from what I do know…I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
Maria made a note and looked to Finley.
“Really? You do know how brutally he was murdered don’t you?”
She stared at the tea set on the table. “Yes, unfortunately, I had to identify the body. His mother…couldn’t handle it.”
They waited to see if she would continue. “Ms. Prague?”
She blinked. “Ms. Ashland has threatened Hale on numerous occasions. Once, when I answered the phone. Her hate for him was venomous, and I’ll never forget how her voice seethed through the line when she said she’d see him dead. When she promised she’d see him dead.” She hugged herself. “It unnerved me.”
“So you’re going by a verbal threat?” Finley asked.
She looked at him as if he were stupid. “Yes. Isn’t that enough?”
He stood. “And you can think of no one else?”
She shook her head. “Who wanted to kill him? No, not fresh off the top of my mind.” She stood along with him. “I’m sorry. I don’t hear a person’s life being threatened every day, Detective.”
“Didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, moving toward the door. “Thank you for your time.”
Maria followed and handed over her business card. “We’ll be in touch. Please remember to call us with that name if you can find it. Or even a receipt from the lounge will do.” She offered a warm smile, but Melanie did not return it.
She took the card and walked them to the door.
Maria turned. “One last thing.” She waved at their surroundings. “All this packing up of his home. Your idea?”
She seemed to stumble for words. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“It was my idea, yes. I—if you must know I can’t stand being here. Gives me the creeps.”
“You could have someone else do it.”
Again, she fought for words. “I know where everything is, and—he was a private person.”
Maria nodded slowly, looked around one last time, and then stepped outside with Finley.
This time Melanie spoke.
“After I give you my alibi…will I have to speak to you again?”
Maria allowed her eyebrows to raise. “If it checks out, we may not have to, no—”
“Good.” She slammed and locked the door in their face.
Maria turned to Finley. “I guess we just bring out the best in everyone,” she said, shaking her head.
He slung an arm around her. “That we do, my friend, that we do.” He wagged a finger at her. “Know who else seems to bring out the best in folks?”
“Who?”
“Avery Ashland.”
She laughed in agreement.
“Seems like everyone loves her.”
They climbed in the car just as fat drops of rain began to fall. Maria breathed deeply and glanced at the house to see Melanie Prague watching them from the window. They drove off without offering a wave.
Chapter Thirteen
Maria pulled into the medical examiner’s office at precisely ten o’clock at night. She lowered her visor, touched up her lipstick, and frowned at her hair. She swept it up into a manageable bun and exited her Jeep Cherokee. She jogged in the rain to the front door, stepped inside, and waited for George, the night security, to let her in. When he came down the hallway, he moved slowly, keys on his large hook dangling. He gave her a wave and buzzed her on through. She smiled at his gray scruffy beard and dark kind eyes.
“Doc’s in her office,” he said, returning to his seat near the front window.
“Thanks, George.”
She hurried down the hall to where the offices were held. She found Dr. Judith Haddock sitting at her desk, dictating. She waved Maria in and encouraged her to sit. Maria did so and waited patiently. She skimmed Dr. Haddock’s bookshelves as she’d done many times and again searched for family photos. She found none.
Dr. Haddock stopped her recorder and put it away along with a file. Then she plucked out another file and flipped it open.
“And how are we this evening, Detective?” she asked without looking up. Her reading glasses teetered on the tip of her nose, and Maria smiled inwardly, wanting so badly to push them back a little just as she always did.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking. How are you?”
“I’m tired as hell, are you kidding? Ready to go home.”
Maria laughed. “Well, now that you mention it…”
“Yeah, I thought so.” She set down the file and whipped off her glasses. “I have a confession to make. I didn’t call you out here strictly for business purposes.”
Maria heated a little with surprise.
“Oh?”
“We’ve known each other for a few years now, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And I’ve known Finley for, God, seems like forever. Anyway, I consider you both friends.”
Maria waited.
“He called me the other day. Seems he’s concerned about your health. And I have to admit, I’ve noticed some changes in you as well.”
“I—”
But Dr. Haddock continued. “You look off. Weak even. And I’ve noticed the trembling and the change in your gait.”
“It’s just my hip. I—”
“Please don’t make excuses, Maria.”
Maria clamped her mouth shut.
“Have you seen someone?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“I just need to schedule a test.”
“So Finley says. I’m going to jump on board with him and insist that you get that done.”
Maria laughed and shook her head. While her own concern had been mounting, she’d thought she’d done a pretty good job at hiding her issues.
“This is so ridiculous. I’m sure I’m fine. Probably just a vitamin deficiency—”
“Who are you kidding, Maria? I’m a physician.”
“Yes, but you don’t know everything about me.”
“No, I don’t. But I know what Finley told me, and I know that if you’ve seen a doctor, then he or she has probably already done blood work, which would’ve ruled out a vitamin deficiency.” She raised an eyebrow.
Maria looked away.
“I’ll get the test done.”
“Beautiful.” She smiled. “And don’t be too hard on Finley. He cares. As do I.”
Maria sighed. “Thank you.”
Dr. Haddock tapped her desk.
“Well, since I didn’t call you out here strictly for a lecture or simply for the mere shits and giggles of it, I’ll get to the main point.” She tapped the file. “I’ve got some lab results on our guy. On Mr. Medley.”
Maria leaned forward.
“His toxicology came back, and he had a hell of a lot of that muscle relaxer in him. I mean a lot.”
“Enough to what, kill him?”
“Well, yes, he would’ve fallen into cardiac arrest eventually. But he was killed before that. This, though. This amount. It would’ve rendered him nearly unconscious for most of the duration of his eventual homicide.”
Maria shook her head. “What are you saying?”
“Mr. Medley was completely out of it during his torture and murder.” She stood. “Maria, his killer wasn’t fighting a moving body like we originally thought. His killer was unskilled, hesitant, and, well…scared.”
She waved Maria up. “Come. I’ll show you what I mean.” She shoved her way into the swinging doors of the lo
cker room and they suited up in silence. When they finished, they double gloved, careful to pull the ends over their wrist cuffs, and headed into the main examination room. The lights came to life as they entered and Dr. Haddock headed to the large stainless steel drawers and slid out Hale Medley. She unzipped his black body bag and tucked it away from his head and chest. “Come here.”
Maria was waiting by the door, but she moved quickly to stand across from her. Hale was as pale as ever with his mouth still agape in a terrified yawn. His eyes were like milky blue marbles, boring into her soul.
She shuddered.
“You all right, Detective?”
“Fine.”
“Don’t faint on me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Dr. Haddock met her gaze. Seemingly satisfied, she moved on. “I want you to look at his wounds on his forehead. “See how sloppy the cuts are? Two to three right next to each other? Some start and just stop? Some deep, some shallow?”
Maria nodded.
“We originally thought this was because Mr. Medley was alive and moving some. That he was difficult to cut. But now that we know he was most likely unconscious…it leaves only one possibility. The killer was having a difficult time all right. But not because of Hale. But because they were scared.”
Maria straightened from her slight bend. “Oh, my God.”
“Precisely.”
“Our killer is a novice.”
“That’s my bet.”
“Not so cold-blooded after all.”
“Nope. I’d say they were most cowardly and almost took the easy way out by killing him with the muscle relaxer. This, these cuts…they didn’t want to do them. They had a hard time in doing them. So my question is, why do them at all?”
“Because they had to. It was part of the plan. They had to make their point. Like it or not.”
“Now look at the throat.” She touched the flesh with her gloved fingertips. “It’s the same here. See these hesitant cuts? Mark after mark. And the way they only cut four inches? If a killer wants to kill by cutting the throat, most try to go ear-to-ear, or at least cut long enough to be sure the job is done. This looks as though they couldn’t go through with it all the way.”