Murder in D Minor Boxed Set

by Virginia Smith

  The man nodded and retrieved a set of thin rubber gloves from his car. Jenkins slid them on, picked up the wrinkled and creased foil packet, and peeled it open.

  “Surprise, surprise.” Jenkins voice was dry.

  In the foil lay a dark colored lump. It was darker than Chase expected, and gunky-looking. Like a sticky chunk of coal.

  “I thought heroin was white,” he commented.

  “Some is.” Jenkins lifted the lump to his nose and sniffed. “This is called black tar heroin. Comes from Mexico.” His lip curled with disgust. “Lucky us. We get the imported kind.”

  He dropped the packet back in the wax and refolded the bundle. “Kincaid, secure this. Matthews, you got the warrant?”

  Matthews held a folded paper between his thumb and forefinger. “We had to interrupt the judge in court, but she signed it.”

  When Deputy Kincaid had stored the bundle, canvas apron and all, in a big plastic bag and locked it in the trunk, they rounded the building and went in the front. Chase followed along behind.

  A half-dozen or so customers browsed in the small store. All of them looked up at the jangle of the bell over the door. A woman broke away from a pair in the rear corner and hurried forward, her business smile fading as she caught sight of the uniformed deputies.

  “Can I help you, officers?”

  Jenkins spoke in a pleasant tone. “We’d like to speak with Mr. Graham.”

  A quick glance around the small shop told Chase Graham wasn’t here. His hands tightened into fists. Just wait until he got hold of that guy. He spied a doorway in the rear. Maybe Graham was in the back.

  “I’m afraid he’s not here.” She clasped her hands in front of her waist. “His son was in an accident this afternoon. He’s at the hospital.”

  “Let’s get a verification of Graham’s location, Kincaid.” When the young deputy stepped aside to make a phone call, the detective nodded at Matthews.

  Matthews extended the paper. “We have a warrant to search the premises, ma’am.” He raised his voice and spoke to the others, who had all stopped shopping to stare openly at them. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask everyone who doesn’t work here to leave.”

  Chase backed against a side wall as the customers filed past, their expressions curious. The door closed behind them with a jangle. The sales clerk, a woman Chase didn’t know, examined the warrant. Her hand trembled when she handed it back to Matthews.

  Jenkins spoke kindly. “What’s your name?”

  “L-Laura.”

  “And how long have you worked here, Laura?”

  “About three years.”

  “Well, we need to ask you a few questions. What do you know about a candle called Forbidden Fantasy?”

  Chase saw fear in her eyes. His gut tightened in response. She knew something.

  “I don’t know anything. Except …”

  “Except what?” Jenkins prodded.

  “We never sell the small-size Forbidden Fantasies.” She waved toward a display of candles. “Never. Nobody buys them.” Her gaze flickered to the rear doorway and back to his face. “But Ed sells big ones that he keeps locked in the office. Only to special customers.”

  The detective’s eyebrows rose. “What kind of special customers?”

  “People come in and ask for Forbidden Fantasy.” She gulped. “Ed always goes into the back and gets a candle for them, sometimes more than one. And he doesn’t ring them up on the register, either.”

  The slime ball. Chase set his teeth together.

  Jenkins narrowed his eyes. “Surely you questioned that strange behavior. Did he ever say anything by way of explanation?”

  “He told me once that some people liked the really strong candles because they covered the smell of smoke or something.” She shook her head. “I knew something strange was going on with those candles, but I never asked. I need this job.”

  “I understand. Where does he keep the candles he sells to these special customers?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. They followed her into the back room, Chase at the rear of the line. They entered a crowded office dominated by a large steel cabinet along one wall. Detective Jenkins tried the handle. Locked. “Do you have a key?”

  Laura shook her head. “Ed has the only one. I don’t go in there.”

  Chase spoke up. “I’ve got a crowbar in the truck.”

  “So do we, sir,” said Kincaid as he ran out.

  The young deputy returned in minutes. The lock gave them a little trouble, but before long they had it opened.

  Inside, a lot of empty space. Not a single candle.

  Chase’s stomach sank. Had Graham sold them all? Was a whole shipment of deadly candles circulating the streets of Little Nashville?

  Deputy Matthews’s phone chirped. He answered it, listened a moment, then told the detective, “Graham and his wife are at the hospital. And his kid was in an auto accident.”

  Jenkins nodded. “Okay, I’m heading over there. Matthews, get this place locked down and call in a search team. Get some dogs, too.” Jenkins turned toward the door, but then noticed Chase. “You get back to the candle factory. We’re heading there next, and I want to question every employee.”

  Chase’s throat squeezed shut. “I understand.”

  Jenkins spoke to Kincaid. “Follow him and wait out front. Make sure nobody leaves. I’ll call for a couple of deputies to back you up while I get over to the hospital and detain Graham.” His glance slid to Chase. “No one is to leave the property, understood?”

  Chase nodded. He wouldn’t leave the property. But he intended to pay a visit to his cousin’s trailer before the interrogators arrived.

  When Jenkins started to leave, Matthews stopped him. “There’s something else you should know, Detective. Graham’s kid was in a car with another teenager when they crashed. The driver didn’t make it. They were both high on heroin.”

  The world around Ed was made of thin, fragile glass. The slightest blow would shatter everything.

  Robbie, Drew’s best friend, a boy Ed had known for years, was dead. Drew himself lay beyond the double doors where he and Janie couldn’t go. They were forced to sit on uncomfortable chairs in the surgery waiting room while doctors fought to save their son’s life.

  Janie’s nails left half-moon gouges in his hand. “I don’t understand.” Her voice shook. “Why would he take drugs? Did we do something wrong, Ed?”

  A parade of faces filed before his mind’s eye. Anxious men who wouldn’t look at him in the face as they shoved money in his hand and hurried away with their candles. Stringy-haired women, their skin stretched across skeletal bones, hungry only for more of the drug. His son wasn’t like them, the riffraff, the dregs of humanity Ed sold his candles to.

  Not yet.

  He released Janie’s hand and doubled over in the chair, writhing against the thoughts that battered his mind. It wasn’t his fault! He didn’t hurt Drew.

  But that other guy, Lancaster. He’d heard about the profits to be made in southern Indiana, where a single supplier of black tar heroin was raking in money hand over fist. Ed had caught wind of Lancaster’s dealings from a couple of his own customers. Word on the street said the guy was targeting teenagers, spreading around cheap samples to build his business, but Ed never imagined his own son would be one of his targets.

  “I don’t know, Janie.” He clutched his head with his hands.

  Suddenly Janie jerked upright, her eyes wide. “What time is it?”

  Ed glanced at his watch. “It’s about five.”

  “Oh, no.” She fumbled in her purse and extracted her cell phone.

  “You can’t use that here.” Ed pointed to the sign on the wall that indicated cell phones could interfere with the hospital’s equipment.

  She clutched the phone to her chest. “I have to go outside, then. I was supposed to pick up Nicky from her flute lesson at four.” She whirled and headed for the elevators. “I’ll be right
back.”

  As she pushed the down button, the doors whooshed open. A man wearing a suit and tie stepped out. Janie tried to rush by him into the elevator, but he stopped her with an arm. “I’m looking for Ed Graham.”

  Not a doctor, at least not a surgeon. But maybe the man was some sort of hospital official with news of Drew. Ed stepped forward. “I’m Ed Graham.”

  The man’s expression hardened. He opened a leather wallet and held a shiny badge toward him. “I’m Detective Mark Jenkins. I’d like to ask you some questions, Mr. Graham.”

  Ed’s world shattered.

  FIFTEEN

  The bench where Caitlin and Nicky waited sat directly in the sun. There were no trees in the schoolyard, no shade at all. Caitlin mopped at her face with a damp tissue.

  “I don’t understand why her phone is off.” Nicky mashed the end button on Caitlin’s cell. She’d tried to call her mom at least ten times since they’d called for a taxi. “She never turns her phone off. Something’s wrong.”

  “Maybe her battery died,” Caitlin suggested.

  Nicky gave her a sideways look. “Then why isn’t she here, like she’s supposed to be?”

  Caitlin couldn’t hold the girl’s gaze. She’d never been good at deception. “She probably got tied up at work, like you said.”

  “But Dad’s phone is off, too, and Drew isn’t answering his.” Nicky jumped up from the bench and paced down the walkway. “What if something’s wrong? What if she had a wreck or something?” Tears filled the girl’s eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “What if she’s dead?”

  As the last word left her mouth, she started to sob.

  Caitlin’s heart wrenched. She wanted to assure Nicky that her mom was okay, but should she be the one to deliver bad news about her brother? On the other hand, wasn’t it better that Nicky know the truth than worry that her mother was lying dead on the side of the road somewhere?

  She went to stand before her. With a hand on each of the girl’s shoulders, Caitlin dipped her head to force eye contact. “Nicky, listen to me. Your mother is not dead.”

  Nicky’s breath shuddered as her chest heaved. “H-how do you know?”

  “Because the lady at your father’s store told me where she is. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you.”

  The sobs tapered to a halt as she digested that news. “Where is s-she?”

  “She’s at the hospital, but she’s not hurt.” Caitlin squeezed her shoulders. “She and your father are there with your brother. He was in an accident.” At least, Caitlin assumed Nicky’s father was there. He might be in jail, but Caitlin wasn’t going there with the girl.

  Nicky’s eyes went round. “Drew? Is he okay?”

  “The lady at your father’s store didn’t know,” she said. “She just told me both your parents were at the hospital with him. I’m sure your mom is distracted, and she’s lost track of time. They probably had to turn their phones off.”

  Hurt flooded Nicky’s eyes. “You lied to me.”

  Caitlin couldn’t bear the look of betrayal. She dropped her head. “I know. I was trying not to worry you, and I upset you even more. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  After a pause, Nicky leaned forward and hugged her gently. “It’s okay. You meant well.”

  Tears stung Caitlin’s own eyes as she returned the embrace. Then she pulled back. “Now that you know, I think we should call the hospital. They can probably put us through to your mom.”

  She held out her hand for the phone. As Nicky placed it in her palm, a car pulled into the school’s drive, heading toward them. Caitlin watched as a green Toyota pulled to a stop at the curb right beside them. The driver’s door opened, and a familiar head appeared over the hood.

  “Hey, I heard you needed a ride.”

  While the deputy waited in the front parking lot for backup, Chase went inside. He plowed straight through the shop, heading for the rear exit.

  His mom stepped in front of him. “It’s about time you showed up. Where have you been?”

  She looked angry, and he couldn’t blame her. “Mom, I’m sorry I’ve been gone today, but I’ve got to go talk to Korey.”

  “Oh, no you don’t, mister.” She planted her feet. “Something’s going on, and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

  Urgency tugged Chase toward the rear exit, but he couldn’t leave without an explanation. He grabbed his mother’s arm and pulled her into the office, then closed the door behind them.

  “This is going to come as a shock.”

  He brought her up to speed quickly. Willie’s death. Being questioned by the police. Finding heroin in the candle. The fact that several deputies were on their way to question everyone. “Before they get here I’ve got to talk to Korey. He’s in his trailer.”

  “Why?” She looked shaken, and no wonder. “You don’t think Korey has anything to do with this, do you?”

  “Think about it, Mom. Whose idea was Forbidden Fantasy? Who set up the deal with the Candle Corner?” He glanced behind him, toward the door. Beyond it lay the pouring room. “Don’t say a word to Aunt Dot. Not yet.”

  “She’s my sister, Chase. Of course I’m going to tell her we’ve been distributing drugs in our candles.” Her gaze grew stern. “I don’t believe this of Korey. There’s another explanation, and the police will find it.”

  If Chase had learned one thing over the past year, it was that you couldn’t trust anyone. He didn’t bother to filter the pain out of his voice. “I didn’t believe it of Kevin, either.”

  Without another word, he left the office and headed toward the back of the factory as fast as he could go without breaking into a run. In the pouring room, he barely spared a nod at Aunt Dot and Irene, who hovered over several trays of votive containers on the central worktable.

  When he exited the building, he did break into a run. Straight to Korey’s trailer. As he ran, his anger built. How could his cousin betray his family like this? True, he’d never had any love for the candle-making business, but this was family. Not to mention all the lives he’d probably destroyed by distributing those drugs. And not just any drug. Heroin.

  How many Forbidden Fantasy candles had they produced in the past year? A knot formed in his stomach as Chase pictured the neat figures he’d written on the P&L statement he’d just prepared. They’d produced a lot.

  He leaped up the rickety stairs and pounded on the door with one hand while he tried the knob with the other. Unlocked. Chase pushed his way inside and slammed the door behind him. The trailer shook with the force.

  Korey appeared from the bedroom, yawning. His hair stood up on one side and he still wore the same clothing he’d worn this morning. “Hey, Chase. What gives?”

  Chase crossed the floor in three steps and grabbed the collar of the wrinkled T-shirt. He jerked his cousin forward until their faces were inches apart. “How could you do this?”

  “Hey!” Korey placed his hands on Chase’s chest and shoved. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “You’ve been found out. There’s a cop at the factory right now, and more on the way.”

  “A cop?” Korey raked his fingers through his disheveled hair. “What are you talking about? Why are there cops at the factory?”

  Chase stomped to the television set and grabbed the Forbidden Fantasy candle off the top. He shook it toward his cousin. “Because they found your heroin, Korey.”

  Korey’s mouth gaped. “My heroin? I don’t have any heroin.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, do you want to explain how heroin got inside your candle?”

  “You’re not making any sense, dude.” Korey held both hands out in front of him, palms facing Chase. “Calm down and tell me what you’re talking about.”

  A whisper of doubt invaded Chase’s righteous fury. Korey met his gaze and held it with clear eyes. Not the look of a deceiving drug dealer. This was his cousin, the guy he’d known all his life.

  Chase shook his head to clear it. “I
went by Willie’s apartment this morning and found his body.”

  “What?” Korey staggered backward and landed against the doorframe with a thud. “Willie is dead?”

  Chase studied his cousin’s face. He couldn’t be faking. His skin had gone pasty. Thank the Lord. I didn’t even want to think that Korey was a killer.

  He nodded. “Murdered. Throat cut, just like that guy in the park the other day. Just like Kevin. And the police found three Forbidden Fantasy candles in his trash.”

  Korey stumbled to the couch and collapsed onto it. “I don’t understand. There were drugs in the candles?”

  “Apparently. They’d been melted, not burned, and we figure he got the drugs out and probably used them. When Jenkins told me, I remembered I had an extra Forbidden Fantasy at the factory. I broke it open and found a packet of heroin inside.”

  Korey dropped his head into his hands. “This is unreal. Drags—inside my candles.” He looked up. “But who put them there?”

  Chase believed him at that moment. His cousin wasn’t a good enough actor to pull off this kind of confusion.

  He crossed to the couch and sat on the other end. “Since Forbidden Fantasy is your baby, I thought it must be you.”

  Korey straightened. He raised a hand, two fingers up. “Chase, it wasn’t me. Boy Scout’s honor. You know I never sit in on the pours anymore. I let the rest of you handle that.” His gaze dropped, and he went on in the tone of one making a confession. “To be honest, the idea for an exclusive scent for the Candle Corner wasn’t even mine.”

  Now it was Chase’s mouth that gaped open. “It wasn’t? Did Ed Graham approach you, then?”

  “No. It was Alex’s idea. He came up with it right after he was hired on at the factory. But Alex was too new to the candle-making business to know whether it was even doable. He asked me to go talk to Ed at the Candle Corner, and it all came together after that.” He tossed an apologetic glance toward Chase. “I let everybody think it was my idea because …” He swallowed. “Our whole family is so into the business. You’ve come up with a bunch of new fragrances. Remember how proud Grandpa was when you created Dreamsicle? Mom and Aunt Bonnie, too. And then of course there’s the whole college thing. You went, you graduated. But me?” He shook his head. “I’ve never been successful at anything.”