Murder Mayhem and Mama

by Christie Craig

  Maybe his mood was spurred from the eight hours of sleep he’d gotten for the first time in weeks, maybe it stemmed from the awesome sex last night—or the anticipation that he’d have more this morning. He didn’t care. He just wanted to enjoy it.

  Welcome back to the living, a voice whispered in his head. But it didn’t feel like his life. The feeling that swelled in his chest every time he looked at Cali was brand new. Brand new. And it scared him almost as much as it excited him.

  He drew in a breath and got the oddest scent of cigarette smoke.

  Cali stirred beside him.

  He started to lean down and kiss her when she yelled out, “No!” Then she jerked up and gasped.

  “Hey? You okay?”

  “Fine.” Trembling, she gripped the sheets to her chest.

  “Another dream?” He rubbed his shoulder to get some of the feeling back into his arm.

  “Yeah.” Her gaze skidded about the room as if she expected to see someone there.

  Concern stirred his gut. He knew how ugly things could appear in one’s mind. He stopped rubbing his own shoulder and touched hers. “You want to talk about it?”

  Tears filled her eyes. “No.”

  “Was this one worse than the others?” he asked, seeing a haunted look in her eyes.

  She blinked. “They’re just dreams.”

  ~

  Two hours later, Cali walked into her classroom. “It won’t be blinking. It won’t be blinking,” she repeated and let her eyes move to the answering machine on her desk. The blinking light made her breath hitch. What had Mom said? “Ask Brit about reading his files and don’t, do not tell him about the phone calls until after lunch! Cali, it’s really important,” her mom kept saying.

  Cali leaned against the desk as she recalled the image that had ended the dream. An image of Brit falling to the ground, the front of his shirt soaked in blood. Then she saw Nolan, Stan’s friend, holding a gun.

  “Don’t tell him about the phone calls until after lunch.”

  Her hands shook. It wasn’t true. She glanced again at the blinking light. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t going to be a message from Stan, she told herself. It wasn’t.

  Forcing air into her lungs, she pushed the play button.

  The voice filled the line. “Cali, it’s Stan.”

  “No!” Dropping in her chair, she gripped the edge of the desk, as Stan’s voice pleaded for her to help him. The second message was from him as well, only this time he left a number.

  Cali tried to rationalize it, looking at it from Dr. Roberts’ viewpoint. She had been worried Stan might call. Hadn’t she? And then seeing all those photos in Brit’s file, and knowing someone was out there killing cops, made her realize how dangerous his job could be. So maybe she was just hypothesizing. They were just dreams. Oh, jeepers. She didn’t believe in ghosts. She didn’t believe her mother was really trying to communicate with her, did she?

  Of course, she didn’t. And Brit needed to know Stan had called. She had to tell him. Yes. She had to.

  She found Brit’s card in her purse, picked up the phone, and punched in the number. The ring echoed in her ear. She slammed the phone down. Okay. Maybe she did believe in ghosts.

  “Oh, hell.” She needed to think for a second. Clear her head and then call him.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “You’d better stop it before Adams figures it out,” Quarles said as he walked into Brit’s office.

  “What?” Brit glanced up from cleaning his cluttered desk. Unlike any other morning, today, he didn’t mind the broom closet of an office.

  “You were humming.”

  Brit attempted to bite back his smile. “A man can’t hum?”

  “Not with that chicken-shit grin on his face. The evidence is overwhelming. You got laid last night.”

  Brit leaned back in his chair, not about to kiss and tell, but he wouldn’t deny it either. “I woke up in a good mood.”

  The humor in Quarles’ eyes faded into something serious. “I warned you about getting in too deep.”

  “Too deep in what?” Adams asked.

  Brit and Quarles both stiffened at the sight of the man looming in the doorway. “What’s up?” Brit asked.

  “The hospital called. You can talk to Garland at nine.” He tossed some papers on Brit’s desk. “The hotel charge will be posted on Miss McKay’s Internet bill by three. I’ve asked Duke and Mark to back you two up tonight. We’ll set you up in two unmarked cars. I figure someone will need to be inside the room, too. You two don’t mind pulling a double, do you?”

  Brit sat forward, his chair squeaking. “Wouldn’t miss it. I want this guy caught.” Out of Cali life’s forever.

  “I’m in.” Quarles butted up against Brit’s desk.

  “Good,” Adams said. “Oh, you were right. Humphrey’s gun is a match for the one that shot Garland. He might not be the guy who took out Keith and Anderson, but he shot an officer. I want him behind bars or six feet under and don’t care which. But I’m not losing another officer. So wear your vests.”

  Adams tucked his hand into his belt. “If I find out one of you didn’t, I’m going to kick ass.” He walked out.

  Quarles waited a few minutes then turned to Brit. “Wear your vest,” he said, tucking his hand into his belt. “Or I’m going to kick ass.” Quarles’ voice was a dead ringer for Adams’.

  Brit laughed. “I didn’t know you did impersonations.”

  “Yeah. You ought to hear me do you.”

  “Funny,” Brit said, his good mood unbreakable.

  A tap on the open door brought Brit’s gaze up. His smile, and his mood, shattered when he saw Laura, Keith’s wife, standing there.

  “Laura?” Brit stood. A rain of guilt pelted him. Guilt for not calling her. Guilt for not finding Keith’s murderer. Guilt for being alive when his partner and best friend wasn’t. Guilt for being happy about being alive.

  “Hi.” Her smile wasn’t as bright as Brit remembered it. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d run by.”

  Brit looked at his new partner. “John Quarles, this is Laura. Keith’s wife.”

  Quarles nodded. “It’s a pleasure.” They shook hands and then Quarles excused himself.

  Motioning for her to sit down, Brit dropped into his own chair. He sought the right words, but none came. “I’m sorry.” Guilt fluttered in his chest like a trapped bird. “I’ve been a piece of shit. I thought about you. I picked up the phone to call you a dozen times.”

  “But you didn’t know what to say.” She leaned forward. “It’s okay. Really.” She found a paperclip on his desk and started twisting it. “I should’ve come here earlier, but I was hurting so much that I didn’t think I could handle seeing your pain.”

  A deep gush of air left Brit’s lungs. “I miss him.”

  She smiled and twisted the clip, “I accused Keith once a week of having an affair with you. You two acted more like a married couple than Keith and I.”

  Brit chuckled, but his eyes stung with emotion. “He was a hell of a guy.”

  “I know. But Keith would be furious if either of us didn’t pick ourselves up by our bootstraps. Remember him saying, ‘Whine and I’ll whack you?’”

  Brit stared at the ceiling until his emotions got under control. “If I could just catch the bastard, Laura.”

  “I want that, too. But it isn’t going to bring Keith back. Even if we never know, we still have to move on.” She dropped the mangled paperclip on his desk.

  “I’m trying.” Brit thought about Cali. “How are you?”

  A touch of courage filled her eyes. “It will take a while, but I’ll be okay. I have a son to take care of.”

  She stood, and Brit followed suit. She stepped around the desk and hugged him. When she backed up, Brit saw something in Laura, a sweetness, a gentle quality that reminded him of Cali. For the first time, he understood what drove Keith home every night. Laura had been Keith’s magic, just like Cali was his.

  “How
’s Keith Junior?” It was amazing how seeing Laura had brought something akin to relief.

  “He’s great. He’s into climbing now. Yesterday, I found him on top of the refrigerator eating the cookies I’d hidden up there. He’s with my mother now, so I’d better get back.”

  Brit smiled. “I’ll walk you to your car.” As they walked out, Brit thought he heard his cell phone. Whoever it was would leave a message.

  ~

  “Ready? We need to get to Garland.” Quarles popped his head into Brit’s office as soon as he returned.

  “Yeah.” Brit picked up his cell phone. “Give me a sec. I missed a call from Cali.” He punched in the number. The line rang once and then clicked over to her message machine. He glanced at the time. During class hours, the answering machine automatically picked up.

  He left a message, apologizing for missing her call. Then just to assure himself, he found the cell number of Garcia, the security guard.

  Brit had spent time this morning with the man, cautioning him about Humphrey and convincing himself that the man would be able to protect Cali. Something about making love to her had made her more his responsibility. Or maybe just plain “his.” While it sounded caveman-like, Brit had wanted to toss her over his shoulder, thump his chest and scream out to the world that Cali McKay was his woman.

  Garcia picked up. “Hey.” Brit told him about the call.

  “I haven’t seen a thing,” the man assured him.

  “Do me a favor,” Brit said. “Walk to her class, peek in, and tell me she’s in her room.”

  “You got it bad for this girl, don’t you?” Garcia chuckled. “Not that I blame you. If I was younger, I’d be chasing you off with a big stick.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got it bad.” Brit glanced up at Quarles, who looked at the clock and walked out. “You on your way now?” Brit asked Garcia as he started to the door.

  They made it to Brit’s car before Garcia spoke again. “I’m looking at her now.

  She’s talking to a student, Sara something. I heard her mom had cancer. Just like Cali to care. You want to talk to her?”

  “No,” Brit said. “But when class changes, pop in and tell her I called to check on her.”

  “She’d probably prefer flowers to an old security guard checking in.”

  Brit smiled. “You’re right. I’ll have some sent over, too. Thanks.”

  He followed Quarles to his car and decided to let him drive. After hanging up, Brit called Directory Assistance and got a number for a florist and had a dozen red roses sent to Cali at Height’s High School. On the card he had them write, “Just thinking of you.”

  “Do you know what red roses mean?” Quarles asked, driving toward the hospital.

  “Butt out,” Brit said and started humming again.

  ~

  Trooper Garland lay in the ICU, only a shade darker than the white sheets.

  Garland opened his eyes. A heart monitor sat on a shelf above him, beeping as if marking time. “You the homicide detectives?” the trooper managed to ask, and he moistened his cracked lips with the edge of his tongue.

  Brit stepped forward. “Yeah, Brit Lowell and John Quarles.”

  Garland nodded and looked at the water pitcher.

  Brit reached for the large hospital cup and held the straw to the man’s parched lips. Garland took a sip. When he swallowed, he flinched in pain. An echo of pain hit Brit’s chest.

  The constant beeping filled the moment of silence, then Garland spoke. “I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to find a piece of evidence that might help. But all I got is a general description.”

  Brit moved closer. “We got a match on the bullet. It’s connected to another case.”

  “The cop killer?” the man asked.

  Quarles shook his head. “Not that case. But the guy’s wanted in connection to three murders.”

  “I guess he’s pissed I’m not number four.” The trooper tried to smile, but it fell flat.

  Brit smiled for him. “I bet so.” Hesitating, Brit asked, “What did this guy look like?”

  “Guys. There were two of them.”

  “Two?” Quarles’ voice radiated the surprise Brit felt.

  Garland flinched as if something suddenly hurt. “Yeah. The driver stepped out of the car. I started telling him to get back in when I saw the other guy. The driver was blond, five ten, heavy, two hundred or more. Didn’t see the other guy. I don’t know which one fired.”

  Brit digested the information. “Nolan Bright.” He looked at Quarles. “Stan and Nolan must be in on this together.”

  ~

  Cali stood in her class room chewing on her thumbnail and studied the roses. They’d arrived fifteen minutes ago.

  She’d been scared to look at the card. What if they’d been from Stan? They hadn’t been. Now she had an hour, her conference period, without conferences, to sit and question the wisdom of waiting to call Brit.

  The door to her class squeaked open. Tanya pranced in, smiling when she saw the roses. “Good news, bad news.”

  “What?” Cali asked.

  “Good news.” Tanya pointed a finger at Cali. “He enjoyed last night. Bad news is he has zero imagination. Roses are so overdone. He should have found out your favorite flower or at least sent you something original. I got an orchid.”

  Cali frowned, but refused to let Tanya’s opinion dampen her appreciation of Brit’s gift. “I think they’re sweet.”

  “You would be that old fashioned.” Tanya scooted up to the desk. “I’ve got ten minutes, so give me the middle of the road version with some juicy details and cut the boring stuff.”

  “Me?” Cali leaned back in her chair. “What about you? You were late this morning. And you got an orchid. So?”

  Tanya smiled. “Okay, I’ll go first. Eric came over yesterday after you left. We spent the day biking and having a picnic at the park. Then we went to his place for dinner.”

  “And?” Cali tried to raise her eyebrow the way Tanya did.

  Tanya leaned in. “And I never went home. Let’s just say we’re no longer as horny as we were.”

  Cali laughed. “Details.”

  “Well, it was fabulous. No, it was…”

  Leaning back in her chair, Cali finished Tanya’s sentence. “Mind spinning, out of this world, a little embarrassing, but you’d do it over again a thousand times.”

  “You too, huh?”

  Cali sighed. “Yeah.” She bit down on her lip and looked at the clock, wishing it was after lunch so she could call Brit. When she glanced back, Tanya studied her.

  “Okay,” Tanya said. “You got the I-had-yummy-sex grin, but your Charmin blues are saying something else. What’s up?”

  Cali blinked her Charmins at her friend. “Nothing.”

  “Liar.” Tanya leaned forward. “Come on. What happened?”

  “It’s crazy.” Cali dropped her elbows on the desk. “Really crazy.”

  Tanya continued to stare. “I’m going to guess this has something to do with your dreams.”

  “So you agree. I’m losing my mind.”

  “No,” she snapped. “What happened?”

  Cali took a deep breath and decided to spill the beans. Really spill them, just toss them out on the floor. “This morning, in my dreams, Mom told me not to tell Brit about the calls from Stan until after lunch. Then I saw an image of Brit getting shot and one of Nolan’s face.”

  Her friend’s mouth fell open. “You didn’t tell me that Stan called.”

  “He hadn’t. I didn’t know he had. Not until I got here this morning. He called twice and even left a number.”

  “Oh, shit. That is spooky. What did you do?”

  “I called Brit. I was going to tell him because I don’t believe that these dreams mean anything. But he didn’t answer. And so I hung up and didn’t leave a message. I told myself if he called back I would tell him, and if he didn’t then I wasn’t meant to tell him.”

  “You didn’t call Stan, did you?”

&n
bsp; “No. But what am I going to tell Brit? ‘Oh, by the way, you know the guy you’re trying to catch for killing someone, well, this morning he called and left a number where I could reach him. Sorry I didn’t tell you right away but my dead mother told me not to tell you until after lunch.’”

  She snatched her banana clip from her hair and started popping it open and closed. “I’m losing it. I swear, I should walk over to the loony ward and have them fit me for a straight jacket.”

  “You’re not crazy.” Tanya said. “So Brit hasn’t called back?”

  “He left a message.”

  “Okay. You tell him that you tried to call this morning, but he didn’t answer. Then you got busy.”

  “Too busy to call him and tell him something that I know is important to his case?” Cali shook her head. Tears started to sting her eyes. “Everything just feels so mixed up. I read the police file on Stan, and the whole police force thinks that he killed those two guys.”

  “But you still don’t believe it?”

  Cali shook her head. “I know he’s not a good person. But I don’t think he’d kill someone. And it’s not just because Mom said it in my dreams. At least I don’t think it is.”

  Stress pinched Cali’s stomach. “And Brit said I might have to testify, and I’m going to have to tell the truth, so when they ask me if I think he did it, I’m going to have to say no. And I know Brit’s going to flip.”

  Tanya shook her head. “If everything you told me about Stan is true, if he’s looking for the bracelet, I can see why you think Stan didn’t kill those guys. It makes sense to believe that he doesn’t have the rest of the jewelry. And like you said, the one with the jewelry is probably the one who killed those other two. You’re using logic here.”

  “Logic?” Cali said. “Remember, I’m the girl whose dead mother is haunting her dreams, telling her what’s happening in the future. And I must believe it because I didn’t call him.”