by Dale Mayer
He shook his head. He had no clue, but no way would he let her think they had. “Let’s hope they were sound asleep,” he said. “It didn’t look like they had defensive wounds or had even moved.”
“I guess I should be thankful for that,” she said quietly. “But this world sucks if people are taking out disabled women and their old husbands.”
“Hey, it sucks for the young man across the hall too,” Taylor said. “Evil appears to have no rules or regulations when it comes to victims.”
“Right, and apparently I was supposed to be one of their targets too. That’s what I can’t stop thinking about. There was no reason for them to use my place or to include me in their plans.”
“Because you survived, we can’t be sure you were supposed to be part of it,” he said, “but, considering it was your apartment, we have to assume some connection is there. And I, for one, am very grateful you did survive. The fact that you were called in to work is huge.”
“Right,” she said. “I’m sure my boss is pretty pissed off right now.”
“He’ll get over it,” Taylor said with a half smile. “Bosses are like that.” He picked up his coffee and took a sip. Like her, his mind toiled with all the bits and pieces he knew, trying to find an answer. The trouble was, they didn’t have enough information yet. “So we know how they got into your place, roughly. We know how the meet was set up and that obviously Gary was happy to come see you.”
“Yeah,” she said, “I don’t even want to think about that aspect of it.”
“Then don’t,” he said, “but here’s the real question. What did they hope to achieve?”
“By the way, were any shots fired into Gary’s privates?” she asked, shifting her position so she could look down the couch and see Taylor better.
He looked at her. “You mean, in the groin?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Was a shot fired into his groin?”
“Definitely. Blood was in that area. Why?”
“Because, in a way, that would imply a woman.”
“Or,” Taylor said, “a male lover.”
“But, if he has a male lover, why would he be coming to have a hookup with me?”
“Because lots of people go both ways,” Taylor said.
“You know what? I’m not sure I’d have been happy if I’d hooked up with a guy who had just come from a male lover.”
“Are you thinking of the whole AIDS thing?”
She nodded. “Yes, but not just that. What about monogamy? What about long-term relationships? A woman wants to think she is special. I would presume a man does too.”
“Well, you don’t do hookups,” he said. “So what’s odd to other people might not be so odd to you, and what’s odd to you may not be to others.”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter either way, I guess. I don’t know what Gary’s sexuality was because I didn’t know him.” She brooded on the idea while Taylor studied her features.
“That’s really the bottom line though, finding out who was unhappy enough to not just kill him but to fill him with bullets. Three shots.”
“And you weren’t home, right?” Midge asked, her brow furrowed.
He shrugged. “Until we get a time of death, I can’t confirm that. But, if you’re asking me if I heard the shots, the answer is no.”
“When you came home, did you pass anybody as you came into the apartment building or on the stairs?”
“No, it was empty,” he said, “but I was also tired and just returning from a trip. I might have passed a couple people downstairs, but I don’t remember seeing anybody up here. And what I also didn’t notice was your door being open.”
“So, if we take that to mean it wasn’t open at that time, since I suspect you would have noticed, then what are the chances the killer was inside my apartment when you got home?”
“Unfortunately, it’s quite possible he was still there. Or she,” he corrected. “And again, we have to wait for the coroner to establish time of death.”
“We might have to wait for some of the facts, but the others are getting laid out pretty decently, when you think about what we’ve already figured out,” she said.
“What we haven’t figured out though,” Taylor said, “is who or why.”
“And both are equally important in this case.” She closed her eyes and relaxed into the couch.
He studied the flush of pink on her cheeks. “Are you feeling okay?”
She nodded without opening her eyes. “Just feeling all the shock of the day.”
“Ditto,” he said. “How do we find out the rest? I won’t feel safe leaving you alone until we catch this guy.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re not responsible for me.”
“Maybe not,” he said, raising his eyebrows, surprised by her response. “And I don’t necessarily feel responsible for you, but, all the same, I don’t want to see you hurt. I would hardly be an honorable man if I sat here and allowed you to go off alone and have this guy target you a second time.”
She stared at him, then jutted her jaw out. “I have friends I can stay with.” She threw the blanket back that she had been tucked into. “Speaking of which, I should probably go now.” She reached for her cell phone, frowning when she remembered she didn’t have it. Looking at his phone, she wrinkled her nose. “How did it get to be ten o’clock?” she asked as she walked to the door and grabbed her purse. “Look. Thanks for everything tonight. I’ll stay with a girlfriend. Or maybe grab a hotel.” She walked the last few steps quickly, as if racing away. When she reached for the doorknob, she couldn’t get her hand on it because he stood in front of it.
“Stop,” he ordered. “I have a spare room you can use tonight.”
But she was already shaking her head. “No, no, no,” she said.
“Why not?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You’ve done enough,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Really?” And he stared her down. He didn’t know why she was running away, and he really wanted to understand but was afraid he wouldn’t like the answer. But she kept shaking her head and moving her purse nervously from one hand to the next. “Do you really think that guy doesn’t know who your girlfriends are?”
She stared up at him, her jaw dropping. “Do you really think he’s tracked down my friends? Do you think he’ll hurt them?” She grabbed his phone off the table, so nervous, trying to dial, but she didn’t know the numbers of her friends. They were icons on her phone, not memorized in her head.
He plucked the phone from her hand and said, “Stop.”
But he’d done it because she obviously couldn’t stop. She started beating on him. “Get away from the door,” she ordered. “I have to go check my friends.”
“No,” he said, “you don’t. Because if he hasn’t found them, and if he’s watching your movements, he’ll find them as soon as you lead him to them.”
And once again she froze.
He could see the tears and the shock welling up inside her. He pulled her in close. “Look. I’m not trying to scare you. I’m not trying to shock you. But we have to be reasonable here. Somebody died already. Three somebodies. So this lunatic could get at you. Do you think this guy will be happy with what he’s done so far?”
She went stiff as a board.
He didn’t know if she was afraid of him or if it was just the craziness that her life had fallen into. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, “and you’ll be fine overnight in my spare bedroom.”
She kept shaking her head. “What are the chances that he hasn’t already figured out where I am? Which means, you’re in danger too.” She stared up at him, her bottom lip trembling. “How can I repay your kindness by getting you killed?”
He stared at her in disbelief. “I’m not some tiny female for him to target,” he roared. “I think you just insulted me.”
She glared at him.
He loved how quickly she went from tears to temper. Maybe
it was the red hair. Deciding to prick it further, he flicked her hair and asked, “So where’s that famous redhead temper?”
“Keep pushing me,” she growled. “You might just see it.”
He gave her a lazy grin and said, “Promise?” He could see the red wash up her face, and she actually stomped her foot in front of him. He chuckled. “Getting there?”
“You’re getting there too,” she snapped. “Why would you even want to set me off in a temper?”
“Because then you stop being a scared victim,” he said. “And you need to keep your head about you. You’re in danger, and you need help. So get off your high horse and accept it.”
She gasped at his tone and his mannerisms, and he could see the flame of red rising higher and higher. He didn’t know why he was pushing it, but, since he could see she was just a hair’s breath away from smacking him, he decided he might as well get smacked for doing something rather than nothing. So he caught her face with his hands, putting their lips together, and kissed her soundly. Then he stepped back and waited for the blow. But instead, she stared up at him, her eyes huge and her mouth open. He stared down at her and said, “If you don’t close that mouth this second, I’m coming back for a second kiss. Don’t think I haven’t warned you.”
She narrowed her gaze at and said, “Well.”
He chuckled. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“I have a lot more to say,” she snapped. “But I’m still trying to figure out why the hell you kissed me in the first place.”
He stared at her in astonishment. “Because you’re adorable,” he said. And then he watched the shock of his words hit her. He studied her for a long moment. “So did your last boyfriend and you break up in an ugly way?”
She crossed her arms as if trying to hide from him. “Why would you think that?” she snapped.
“Because now you’ve gone all defensive, which just underlines my question. But, if he didn’t tell you how absolutely cute and adorable you are, you’re better off without him. And, yes, I realize some women would be really pissed to be told that, I know,” he added. “But you are stunning. For him not to have made you feel beautiful every single day is a huge shame.”
At that, she started to giggle. Then she laughed. “Oh, my God,” she said. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anybody who could take me from the absolute edge of my temper and then throw me into a complete fit of righteous giggles.”
“And why are you laughing?”
She waved a hand at him and back away, putting her purse on the counter. “Are you kidding? Nobody’s ever said anything like that to me. I mean, I’m a redhead. Remember?”
“So what?” he asked. “Gingers are cute. And you are way more than cute. You’re beautiful. How could you possibly not know that? Surely you’ve had more than the one boyfriend, right?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, I have. But that doesn’t mean they were any better.”
He frowned. “Meaning, they were still young and immature?”
She giggled. “You know when you have an ugly breakup, and they say unkind things? Almost always they insult you. And that sends you looking back at the history of all those ‘flattering comments,’ and it makes you doubt those.” She flung herself back onto the couch and glared at him. “And don’t tell me that you haven’t done the same thing.”
“I haven’t,” he said, his tone curt. “There’s no point in demoralizing somebody just because you want to break up with them.”
“Oh, I agree,” she said. “But I don’t think everybody else does.”
“I’m not everybody else,” he said. He sat down beside her. “So, you’ll stay for the night?”
“Yes, please,” she said, the fatigue evident in her voice now. “I appear to be going from one end of the extreme to the other. I’m sorry for my behavior.”
Such a formal note was in her tone, as if she was really serious, that he just shook his head. “Don’t apologize. We’re all off-center right now. And we should be. Three people died today. We should not make light of it or ignore it. Those people had family and friends who cared about them. I don’t want that minimized.”
“Neither do I,” she said with a simple nod. “And thanks for the reminder. Because you’re right. I didn’t know Gary, but now I’m sorry about that. Because he deserves to be honored at his funeral. He deserved to have been liked in life. He deserved to have had lovers and friends and pets who all cared for him. Plus, parents who adored him and siblings who laughed and cried with him. It isn’t fair that his life was taken away so young. I shouldn’t be so worried about my own future that I forget the real problem here, which is the fact that he lost his.”
“You do need to be concerned about your future,” Taylor said. “We can’t make light of this. And now that we know, we’ve got to take action and ensure you have the future you deserve. We’ve got to do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t end up just like him.”
“Somebody went to an awful lot of trouble to either implicate me in Gary’s murder or was planning on taking me out at the same time,” she said. “You’re right about that. I just have no clue who.”
“So it seems. Now, since you’ll just lie in bed and worry about it …” he said and walked over to a sideboard that held paper and his laptop. He passed a notepad toward her and tossed her a pen. “Write down a list of your friends or other contacts, and let’s figure out who could possibly be behind this. Think about the girlfriends you love, friends you hate, and think about the ex-girlfriends. The same with men. Think about the ones you love, the ones you hate and the ones who are now exes. Did anyone have an ax to grind? Anybody carrying a torch for you who you offended? Think about your job. Were you promoted over someone? Did you make a pass at somebody else’s husband or do anything that could be misconstrued? Something that would set someone off?”
“I don’t think so, not intentionally,” she said. “That’s not who I am.”
“That doesn’t matter in the least,” he responded gently. “Remember? We’re not talking about who you really are. We’re talking about how somebody else perceives you to be. Somebody who might be a little unhinged.”
Chapter 5
“I understand the difference,” Midge said, “but that’ll be a hard one to crack.”
“Consider any nutcases you know. And I don’t mean that literally, although in a way I do. But think about anybody who’s odd. Is there anybody who’s too emphatic, too religious or too much of a zealot in any way?”
Midge slowly picked up the pad of paper. “This feels very wrong. Analyzing my friends in this way. Because I like them. They like me. We get along well.”
“So, start with the ex-friends,” he said, “friends you had a falling-out with. Can you do that?”
She slowly wrote down Diane’s name. “We had a falling out a year ago,” she said.
“Good. Write that down. We can get any contact numbers from your phone. Hopefully you’ll get it back tomorrow, like the detective said. You know the cops will want this list tomorrow anyway, so now you’ll have a jump on it.”
“Good Lord,” she said faintly. “The last thing I want to do is go over this list with them.”
“If we do the list now,” he said, “we can just give it to them, and they can take it from there.”
She nodded and kept writing. “It wasn’t a bad falling out, but she thought I was being too friendly with her boyfriend.” She frowned, remembering the dancing and the drinking. “She was really drunk that night. She played out an ugly scene. She apologized the next day, but I didn’t feel comfortable after she had completely dumped about how she really felt about me while she was drunk. It seemed to me that, if she felt that way when she was drunk, she was probably just holding those emotions back when she wasn’t, and the alcohol had given her the freedom to speak her mind. I never hung out with her again after that.”
“Good,” he said encouragingly. “Keep going.”
She wrote down another name. “Jenny was
somebody I worked with,” she said, then thought about it for a moment. “About six months ago she got fired, and she blamed me for it.”
His eyebrows went up. “Why?”
“Because we had a lot of files that had been shifted and moved. It was her job to put them all back properly, but instead they were a mess. Totally misfiled. She’d just been through a breakup with her boyfriend, and, at the time, I wondered if she hadn’t cared and had jammed the files back any old way or had been so upset that she couldn’t concentrate properly and legitimately misfiled everything.”
“And why would she blame you for losing her job?”
“Because she originally said she hadn’t done it, and I said I saw her with the files in the filing room, putting them away. Of course everything is digital now. You have to go into the back to get older files. And they’re still there, some of them anyway. We’re in the process of scanning everything in, but, when someone wants information from years ago, if it’s one of the files that isn’t digitized, then you have to go into the back room.”
“So, because you saw she had been in there, you could give proof positive that she’d been the one who had last been touching them.”
“I could confirm she had them in her hand at one time on that day. But I really don’t know what she did with them after that. She might have put them down on a table, and somebody else grabbed them. I don’t know. I did tell my supervisor that. She got fired anyway. Maybe because she lied.”
“Okay, so that’s a good reason for wanting revenge.”
Midge stared at him. “So you kill three people because you screwed up at a job and got yourself fired?”
“People who do stuff like this never own their choices or actions,” he said. “They are always focused on who did this to them. They’re not big on taking responsibility for themselves.”
She slowly nodded. “I can see that, I guess,” she said. “Jenny was like that. It didn’t matter what was wrong. She hadn’t done it. Somebody else was always to blame. Which is stupid, since everybody makes mistakes.”