“Sorted by most recent, first.” He poked his finger at the screen. “Name, address, manner of death—so, homicide, suicide, accident, natural causes and some other stuff that I can collapse.”
She tore the corner off her pizza with her teeth and loomed over Sam’s shoulder, scanning the lines that contained too much information. “This is confusing.”
“You’re getting crumbs on my laptop.” He blew on the keyboard. “And you’re chewing in my ear. Give me a few seconds to get rid of some of these columns we don’t need to see. When we pare this down, we can click on the file number and it’ll take us to another database with more information about the details of the death.”
Drawing back, she reached for her wine and took a sip. “You’re not going to get into trouble for logging in and using these programs, are you?”
“I’m in Paradiso to investigate links between some missing people here and the remains of the missing people we located in the desert east of San Diego. Why wouldn’t I be accessing these databases?” He clicked around the page, cleaning up the table, distilling it to the pertinent information.
She waved her hand at the screen. “Do you think we should eliminate the people over a certain age who died of natural causes?”
“We can do that.” He scrolled down the list. “Here’s an eighty-six-year-old woman who had a stroke.”
“Yeah, like those.” She squinted at the cause of death column. “More homicides than you’d expect outside of Tucson and Phoenix.”
“Courtesy of the border and the drug trade.”
They worked on the database together for over an hour and managed to polish off the pizza at the same time.
Jolene had limited her wine consumption to one glass, even though she could’ve used another. She collected the paper plates and the glasses.
“I think we have a good list to start going through. We already know we can ignore the murders of Jaycee Lemoin, her boyfriend, Brett, and the social worker he killed. Those didn’t have anything to do with the casino project.”
“Maybe none of these did.” Sam lifted his head. “Is that your phone or mine?”
“Oops, mine.” Jolene tossed the plates into the empty pizza box and grabbed the phone, flashing an unknown number. “Hello?”
“Jolene?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“This is Eddie, the bartender at the Sundowner.”
She raised her eyebrows at Sam. “Yeah, I know you. What’s up, Eddie?”
“Your cousin Melody is at the bar and she’s lit. I tried calling Wade, but he’s not picking up.”
“What’s she doing?” She mouthed Melody’s name to Sam. “Can you call her a rideshare?”
“Normally I’d do that but she’s in bad shape, Jolene. I’m afraid to let her out the door by herself, and I don’t trust any of these guys here tonight. They’re not much better off themselves. I’d take care of her myself, but I have another two hours of work and she can’t stay here in her condition.”
“Okay, I’ll be right over. Thanks, Eddie.” She ended the call and tapped the phone against her chin. “You were right. Melody’s fallen off the wagon—and in spectacular fashion. Sounds like she’s drunk and disorderly in the Sundowner.”
“Great.” Sam logged off the computer. “I’m coming with you. Maybe I can talk her down.”
“Let Chip out for a few minutes while I clean up the kitchen.” She shoved the napkins in the pizza box. As she walked past Sam, she handed him the box. “Can you throw this in the trash outside, please?”
When Chip came back inside, Jolene locked up the house and grabbed her purse. As they walked out to Sam’s rental car, she said, “I’m so disappointed in her.”
Sam opened her car door and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not more disappointed than Melody is. Remember that. She already feels like a failure. Don’t make it worse for her.”
“You’re right.” She twisted her head to the side, and kissed the hand that rested on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Sam’s eyes flickered for a second.
She’d meant it, at least for now.
The Sundowner had been a staple of Paradiso nightlife when Sam lived here two years ago, not that it was ever a place he frequented. He’d already stopped drinking and had separated from his wife by the time he moved here.
When she’d met him, he’d fallen off the wagon once, three months into his six months of sobriety—and that misstep had resulted in his ex’s pregnancy. He’d told her about going back on the booze, but had failed to mention the hookup with his ex.
Not that she’d known him at the time. They’d gotten together a few months after that, and had had a few more blissful months until he announced that his ex was pregnant, which had signaled the end of their love story.
Sam nudged her shoulder. “It’s at the end of the block, right?”
“The place with the blue-and-red neon sign.”
“It’s busy.” Sam cruised past the front and all the cars parked along the curb and a rideshare double-parked, waiting for its rider.
“I’ll make a U-turn.” He turned the car around at the end of the block and parked across the street.
They got out of the car, and Sam grabbed her hand as they ran to the other side of the street.
Smokers had spilled out of the bar onto the sidewalk where live music from a country rock band blared. They squeezed past a drunk stumbling out the front door.
“I hope she’s not in the same condition as that guy.” Jolene jerked her thumb over her shoulder.
“If she is, we can handle it.” Sam peered over everyone’s heads.
She tugged on his sleeve, as the bass from the band reverberated in her chest. “See her?”
“No, let’s head to the bar and find Eddie. Do you know what he looks like?”
“Big guy, shaved head, long beard and pumped-up, tattooed arms—can’t miss him.”
“Got him. He’s a busy guy. Nice of him to take the time to call you.” Sam steered her through the crowd, and they edged up to the bar.
Jolene raised her hand. “Eddie!”
The big guy nodded once as he topped off a beer. When he finished with his customer, he moved down the bar and stopped on the other side from them, folding his massive arms. “She’s gone.”
“Gone? Where?” Jolene scanned the heads around her, hoping to see her cousin’s pink-streaked black hair.
“She ordered a rideshare on her phone. I told her you were coming, but she didn’t want to see you.” He swiped the counter with a white cloth. “You know, she’s been hitting the bottle for a while, but didn’t want you to know.”
“I’m not here to judge her. I just wanted to make sure she’s safe.” Jolene hugged her purse to her chest. She was pretty sure she’d vented to Melody about drunks who relapsed when she found out about Sam and his ex—maybe once or twice.
“She was coherent enough to order the car?” Sam braced his hands against the bar.
Eddie answered, “I helped her when she made it clear she was going home by herself, even though I tried to talk her out of it. You just missed her.”
“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it.” Jolene slipped her phone from the side pocket of her purse and called Melody’s number. She listened to three rings before Melody’s voice mail answered.
“She’s not answering—probably because she saw it was me.”
Sam cocked his head. “How many people use rideshare around here?”
“From the bar?” Eddie tugged on his earlobe, elongated with multiple piercings. “A good number. Hey, I gotta get back to work. Hope Melody is okay. I got a soft spot for that crazy girl.”
Sam turned and leaned his back against the bar. “Does Melody live with Wade?”
“No, she has her own place. We should stop by, huh?”
“I agree.” She tipped her head toward the band on the stage. “They’re not bad.”
Sam cut a bigger swath through the crowd than she could, so he led the way while she hooked a finger in the back pocket of his jeans.
As they burst onto the sidewalk, Sam dragged in a deep breath. “That smell makes me sick now.”
She stepped off the curb, and he grabbed her arm.
“Hold on. That rideshare car is still waiting.” He strode down the sidewalk and ducked down to the open passenger window of the car. “Who are you picking up?”
The driver pointed at Jolene standing next to Sam. “Are you Melody?”
Jolene put a hand to her throat. “You’re waiting for Melody?”
“Is that you?”
“She’s my cousin. I came to pick her up, but the bartender said she’d ordered a car. You’re telling me she never came out here?”
“I don’t know if she ever came out here or not, but nobody named Melody ever claimed the ride.” He tapped the phone mounted on his dashboard. “I gave her fifteen minutes, so I’m gonna bounce and pick up another ride—unless you need a lift.”
“N-no.”
She and Sam backed away from the car and stared at each other.
“What does it mean?” She licked her lips. “She ordered a car and didn’t take the ride?”
“Maybe someone she knew saw her and took her home.” Sam placed his hand on the small of her back. “Now we really need to go to her place.”
She swept her arm to encompass the people scattered on the sidewalk. “Should we ask them if they saw her?”
“We can try.”
With Sam at her elbow, she questioned the people on the sidewalk, but nobody remembered seeing a woman with pink-streaked hair, although one of the smokers remembered her from inside the bar.
He flicked his cigarette butt into the gutter and grinned. “That chick was wasted—tequila. Had to be tequila.”
“But you didn’t see where she went when she left the bar?”
“Sorry, no. She left before I did.”
Jolene’s heart hammered in her chest as she crossed the street with Sam. “I hope she’s home safe, but why isn’t she answering her phone?”
“You tried again?”
“I can’t.” As she settled in the car, she pulled out her phone and shook it from side to side “It’s dead. Maybe it did get damaged in the accident.”
“Use mine. I think I still have her number in my phone if you don’t have it memorized.” He handed his phone to her and then went around to the driver’s side.
Jolene found Melody’s number in Sam’s phone and tapped it. This time it went straight to voice mail with no ring.
When Sam got behind the wheel, she grabbed his arm. “Sam, I think her phone is off now. It went straight to voice mail without ringing. Why would her phone be off?”
“Maybe it died when she got home. Maybe she turned it off.”
“That girl never turns off her phone. It’s attached to her hand.”
“She’s drunk, Jolene. It could mean anything.” He started the car. “Which direction is her place?”
She guided him to Melody’s apartment in one of the new buildings that had gone up to house workers coming in for the pecan-processing plant.
“She’s on the second floor.” She pointed through the windshield as Sam parked the car near the edge of the parking lot, away from tenant parking. “That’s her place up there. She has a light on.”
“She’s probably passed out on the floor, or maybe she got lucky and made it to her bed. Worst-case scenario, she’s clutching the toilet seat, puking her guts out.”
“I’ll take that worst-case scenario.”
Sam’s mouth tightened as he walked up the stairs to Melody’s. Did he really believe his own worst-case scenario?
When they reached the second-floor landing, Jolene gasped. “That’s her door, the one that’s open.”
Sam put his arm out. “Stay back for a minute and let me check it out.”
With her adrenaline coursing through her system, Jolene pushed past Sam and charged through Melody’s front door.
“Melody?” Jolene tripped to a stop and smacked her hand against a wall to steady herself. “Sam, she’s been hurt. She passed out. There’s blood.”
Sam eased past Jolene and crouched next to Melody. He put two fingers against her throat.
“How bad is it? We need to call 911.” Jolene took a step toward Sam.
“Stop. Don’t come any closer. Melody is dead.”
Chapter Nine
Jolene’s face turned white, and her hand slid down the wall as she collapsed to a crouch. “Are you sure?”
“She doesn’t have a pulse. CPR isn’t going to help at this point.” Sam put a finger on Melody’s chin, her flesh still warm, and tipped her head to the side. Blood from a deep gash matted Melody’s hair. “It’s a head injury.”
Jolene plunged her hand into her purse. “I’m calling 911.”
“Your phone’s dead.” He held out his phone to her. “Try not to touch anything in here, Jolene.”
As Jolene spoke a rush of words to the 911 operator, Sam swiveled his head to take a look around the room. As far as he could tell, nothing had been disturbed. Then he noticed blood on the edge of a glass coffee table. Squinting, he leaned in, careful not to touch it.
Jolene ended the call. “They’re on their way. What happened, Sam?”
“There’s blood and a few strands of hair stuck to that table. It’s the right shape. She could’ve fallen and hit her head on the table.”
“That would be enough to kill her?” Jolene sawed at her bottom lip with her teeth, her eyes wide and glassy.
“Do you see Melody’s phone? Her purse?” Sam inched away from the body. He had to get Jolene out of here. If there was any foul play, they didn’t want to be tromping around a crime scene.
Still gripping his phone, Jolene asked, “Do you think this was some kind of robbery gone wrong? Melody walked in on someone, and he pushed her? Took her purse?”
“I don’t know. Do you see the purse?”
“Melody always carried a small cross-body bag, It’s not...on her?”
Sam glanced down at Melody’s still form, her pink-streaked hair fanning across her face. His gaze tracked across her blouse, bunched around her waist, her skirt demurely smoothed over her thighs and her feet with one sandal on and one off. “I don’t see a purse.”
Jolene twisted her hair into a knot over her shoulder. “How could this happen? We just missed her at the bar.”
“Things happen when you’re drunk. Things happen when you’re drunk...and know too much.” Sam pushed up to his feet. “I hear the sirens. We need to step outside.”
Jolene seemed frozen in place. “Do you think someone killed her? That was my first thought, but I didn’t want to come off as paranoid.”
“Then we’re both paranoid.” Sam held out his hand. “C’mon. You already got your prints on that wall.”
“I’m a visitor here. My prints are going to be all over this apartment.” She grasped his hand with her cold fingers and he drew her up as the sirens ended in the parking lot below.
“We’ll let the police figure it out.”
“Like they figured out my father’s murder?” She shook her head. “They’ll take the path of least resistance. Her purse is missing, and she was drunk. That will be their main focus.”
“Whoever took her purse and phone must’ve turned it off. That’s why you couldn’t get through the last time you tried from my phone.”
Footsteps clumped up the stairs, and Sam led Jolene out of the apartment just as the
first responders made it to the landing.
Sam raised his hand. “Over here.”
The next thirty minutes were a blur of activity. The EMTs didn’t try to revive Melody, as they’d discovered the same thing he had—no pulse.
How had that happened so fast? Melody had lost a lot of blood, but not enough to bleed out in twenty minutes. The blow to her head could’ve done her in immediately. Had someone hit her and then smeared her blood and hair on the table to make it look like an accident?
How many other deaths in that database were conveniently accidental?
Jolene had wandered back into the apartment when the EMTs called it quits on Melody. The crime scene investigators from the sheriff’s department were too busy to notice her presence. He hoped she wasn’t in there contaminating evidence. Maybe she just didn’t want to leave Melody alone.
The officer Sam had been talking to came up the stairs again. “The medical examiner is on her way. I don’t have anything else for you or Ms. Nighthawk. You have my card, and I have your phone numbers. We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
Sam pointed to the eaves running above the apartment doorways. “Too bad there are no cameras here.”
“We might be able to get something from across the street, and even though we don’t have her phone, we’ll get those records and see if she ordered another car.”
“I’ll be in Paradiso for a while on my case, so keep me apprised. Jolene, Ms. Nighthawk, is understandably devastated by the death of her cousin.”
“She’s Wade Nighthawk’s sister, too.” The deputy pointed down to the parking lot where Wade was talking to a uniformed cop. “Wade has friends in high places. Someone must’ve told him.”
Sam hustled back to Melody’s apartment and called to Jolene, who seemed transfixed by the CSI guys going through Melody’s living room.
She jerked her head to the side. “I—I just don’t want her to be alone.”
“I know.” He crooked his finger at her. “Come here a second.”
She gave a last look at Melody and approached him, tears streaking her face. She must’ve come out of the shock that had gripped her when they first discovered Melody.
Buried Secrets (Holding The Line Book 4) Page 9