Delia's Shadow

by Moyer, Jaime Lee

  He’d known, but he had to ask “Thank you, Maxwell. Sergeant Fitzgerald and I will be right there.”

  Gabe glanced at the men working near him. His squad worked methodically and combed the ground in the side yard for clues, their kerosene lanterns casting flickering yellow islands of light around their feet. A depression in the soft ground near the porch showed where the stranger dropped the heavy trunk. Deep parallel gouges marked where Casey dragged it to the steps and mud left behind on weathered wood told how he’d walked the trunk up one step at a time, struggling with the weight.

  No grooves marred the ground from the street to that telltale depression. The killer had carried the trunk, at least until Casey confronted him and refused to let him inside. A man that strong was more than capable of overpowering Terrance Owens or any of the other murder victims.

  Annie had heard Aaron threaten to shoot if the angry stranger took another step. The shouting stopped then and when she’d peeked out the kitchen window, Aaron still had his gun drawn. Without Casey’s pistol pointed at him, the killer might have tried to force his way into the house.

  Too close, too close.

  Gabe clapped Henderson on the shoulder, signaling an end to questions. Marshall was tired, the corners of his mouth drooping and bruised circles darkening under his eyes. “That’s enough for tonight. We’ll pick this up again in the morning. Use the front entrance and go back inside. Annie’s keeping supper warm for you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Henderson started to leave, but turned back. “I know Annie got a glimpse of him through the windows. But the deliverymen out front or the ice man might have gotten a better look at the man who brought the trunk.”

  Jack stuck the pencil stub behind his ear. He glanced at Gabe before speaking, taking the lead. “We took the name of the furniture company from the people across the street and Annie knows the ice man. If they saw anything, we’ll know by morning. You did a good job today, Marshall. The lieutenant and I are both grateful to you for taking good care of Sadie and Delia. Let the rest of the squad take over now. Go eat your supper before you get me in trouble with Annie. She made me promise not to keep you long.”

  That made Henderson smile. “Yes, sir. I wouldn’t want Annie mad at you.”

  Officer Henderson headed toward the street and the front of the house, feet dragging with fatigue. Gabe started up the back steps, muttering so only Jack could hear. “You’re better at that than I am.”

  “What? Making the rookies feel less guilty about needing to eat and sleep?” Jack clomped up the steps beside him and pushed the door open. “Set a better example if you want the squad to take you seriously, Lieutenant Ryan. Most of them feel they need to work double shifts just to keep up with you. They’re all afraid of letting you down.”

  He stopped on the threshold and stared at Jack. “Jesus … I’m turning into my father. I swore to myself after Victoria died I wouldn’t do that.”

  Jack put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him the rest of the way inside. “I won’t let you. I’d be willing to wager that Delia won’t, either.”

  One bare bulb dangled from a wire in the ceiling, harsh white light that made Gabe squint until his eyes adjusted. Fingerprint dust covered the outside of Delia’s trunk, fine black grains clumping around the oily mass of prints near the latch and the handles on each end, fuzzy as mold on spoiled bread. He slipped out of his overcoat and hung it on a hook near the backdoor with his fedora. Jack did the same with his coat and hat.

  “Turner, do you have a cloth I can use to wipe away the fingerprint powder?” The porch was warmer than outside, but still too cold to take off his suit jacket. Gabe compromised and pushed up his sleeves. “I’d hate to get it all over Miss Martin’s clothes.”

  Turner dug in his case and came up with two pieces of soft flannel. Gabe wiped the trunk front clean and took the second cloth to do the same to the latch and the rounded top. Fingerprint powder stuck to his fingers, but a splash of water from the sink and a handkerchief solved that problem.

  He went to his knees on the cold floor, a worshipper at the altar of the murderer’s cleverness. This man had repeated his pattern exactly, proving to Gabe as he’d proven to Matt Ryan that he could take anyone he wanted. He counted his blessings again. Too close …

  Sweat trickled into his collar, down the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades. Gabe traded looks with Jack. He silently counted to three, took a breath, and flipped open the lid. The top layer showed nothing but neatly folded stockings and petticoats, exactly what he’d expect to find in Delia’s traveling trunk.

  After the surprises the killer had left for them in the past, Gabe didn’t trust that in the slightest. The only small bit of relief he allowed himself was that they hadn’t found a body stuffed inside.

  He began laying some of Delia’s things inside the rounded top, but the bottom of the trunk was twice the size. Not everything would fit. “Jack, does Annie have a wicker basket, one she uses for laundry?”

  “I’ll ask. Be back in a tick.” Jack slid between the trunk and the edge of the sink and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Gabe removed pieces of clothing carefully, unfolding blouses and skirts to make sure nothing was hidden inside. He felt funny about handling her undergarments and nightdresses, but that was just the place the murderer would hide something terrible.

  Jack returned with two deep baskets and raised an eyebrow at the cluster of young men crowding the utility porch. “Out, all of you. Talk to Officer Morris and find out what he needs done. The sooner you get through his list the sooner you get to go home. The lieutenant and I will take care of this.”

  His partner refolded everything Gabe handed him and Jack laid Delia’s clothes in the deepest basket. Toward the bottom of the trunk, Gabe found a layer of shoes, books and jewelry boxes of different sizes. He handed the jewelry cases to Jack to search.

  One by one, Gabe shook the shoes out and dropped them into a basket. He’d almost finished when something small and wrapped in brown paper fell out of the toe of a black shoe, clinking on the floor with a metallic sound. He set the shoe aside, heart thumping against his ribs. “What are the odds of Delia hiding trinkets in her shoe?”

  “Not very good I’d say.” Jack sorted through the largest of the jewelry cases. He frowned and lifted out a slim parcel, wrapped in a large man’s handkerchief and tied with a ribbon. “Probably the same odds of her keeping books in a jewelry box.”

  “It might be a diary.” Gabe couldn’t have explained why, but he knew that was wrong as he said it. He poked at the paper around the trinket and began to work at untying the string holding it in place. “Open it. We can tell Delia we’re sorry later if that is her journal.”

  He ended up tearing the paper off rather than fight the string. An old-style police sergeant’s badge lay in his hand, the brass tarnished green and pitted. Gabe rubbed at the front with his damp handkerchief, trying to make out the number. “Badge seven forty-eight of the San Francisco Police Department. That’s an early number, Dad was badge eight ninety-one. This one was issued before he joined the force.”

  Jack gave up trying to slip the ribbon off and dug a penknife out of his pocket. The ribbon cut easily. “The department lost a lot of records in the fire. Any chance that your father might know who that number belonged to?”

  “He might remember. Dad knew almost everyone on the force back then.” He turned the badge over in his hand, staring at it and trying to deny the icy knot forming in his middle. He needed the information in his father’s files. Visiting his parents might draw the killer’s attention toward them, but the risk was there even if he stayed away. Gabe couldn’t bring himself to say aloud what both he and Jack knew. The killer had hidden the badge for them to find, taunting them again. “I’ll take it to show Dad tomorrow. This means something, I just don’t know what. About the only thing I’m certain of is that Delia didn’t pack this in her shoe.”

  “This isn’t Delia’s journal, either. It’s some
sort of history book.” Jack flipped through the book, glancing at a few pages before turning back to the flyleaf. “It’s inscribed to Augustus Whitfield, from his loving sister and dated March, eighteen eighty-three.”

  Gabe tucked the badge in his inside jacket pocket and took the book from Jack. “The first series of murders started in June of eighteen eighty-three. That was only a month after my parents were married.”

  The book was a combination of memoir and a recounting of his service to the British Empire by a man named Brewster. Chief interpreter and secretary to the intelligence department in Egypt in the mid-eighteen hundreds, Brewster had recorded his travels and adventures. Faded lithographs and line drawings recorded images of pyramids, temples, and statues of Egyptian kings.

  Gabe flipped through pages, stopping at a series of drawings near the end. Images of Anubis, Osiris, and a scale balancing a human heart against a feather stared back at him. A few pages further on, the Court of the Dead was explained in gruesome detail, much more horrific than Colin had outlined in front of Delia. He handed the book to Jack and waited silently while his partner read.

  Jack snapped the book shut. “He wants us to know what he’s doing. What I still don’t understand is why.”

  “Why he wants us to know? Or why he treats the city as his own personal hunting ground?”

  “Either.” Jack let out a long, hissing breath. “I’d take anything you have to offer right now. He got too damned close today. I’m not ashamed to admit this guy scares me.”

  “He scares me, too. But this man thinks he’s smarter than us and that’s leading him to take chances.” Gabe sifted through the few things left in the bottom of the trunk, but nothing was hidden there. They’d found the killer’s message. He began repacking Delia’s things. “He made a mistake today. Annie didn’t get a good look at him, but enough that we can put out a flyer describing him. I’m betting that either the iceman or the deliverymen saw him, too. They’d have gotten a better look.”

  Jack helped him pull the trunk lid closed. “And if they did, we can add a sketch to the flyer. Tacking flyers up on every lamppost and storefront in the city might slow this bastard down.”

  “Maybe.” Or make the killer so angry he retaliated. That was a risk, but one they’d have to take. Gabe stood and brushed at the knees of his trousers. “It’s a start anyway. Are you ready to help me carry Delia’s trunk to her room?”

  “I’ve got a better idea, let two of the squad take it upstairs. Annie saved supper for us, too.” Jack handed Gabe his coat and hat. “Set a good example and eat, Gabe. I’m sure Delia will be happy to sit with you while you do.”

  “That is a better idea.” Gabe snatched the book up off the floor and eased past the end of the trunk. All the carefully suppressed need to be with Delia, to see and talk with her hit him at once. “It’s been a long day for all of us. Let’s not keep the ladies waiting any longer.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Delia

  I laid awake a long time after Jack and Gabe left, unable to stop myself from dwelling on all that had happened. Imagining horrible things was all too easy.

  Each time I shut my eyes, I saw Aaron Casey’s face. Finding him alive and unharmed might take a miracle, and I prayed for one. Gabe made sure Sadie and I knew that the killer had found a method to lure an officer away from his post. Knowing would remind us to question everything that didn’t come from him or Jack directly. Questioning kept us safer. He had the same talk with Annie before going home.

  What worried Gabe and Jack most was that they’d no idea how this man managed to fool Casey. What worked once might work again.

  The big clock in the parlor chimed two in the morning, a hollow, lonely sound. I turned onto my side, wide awake and mind racing. Aileen’s ghost stood in front of my door. I’d spent months wishing her away, wanting to be free of the burden of knowing she was always there. Now the sight of Aileen standing watch at my door was more of a comfort than knowing half a dozen officers guarded the house. I didn’t understand what changed or why, just that it had.

  I fell asleep soon after, dreamless sleep that left me more rested than I’d a right to be. Annie let me sleep until seven. We’d talked it over the night before and decided the trip to see Gabe’s parents, and giving Dora access to his father’s files, was more vital than ever. I stumbled around my room and yawned until my jaw ached, but managed to dress and eat breakfast before Gabe arrived at nine.

  Annie sent him to find me in the kitchen. I was still lingering over my coffee and trying to wake up, more than a little afraid I’d fall asleep on the drive to Santa Rosa. Gabe pushed through the swinging door and took the chair next to me. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  I traced the dark, bruised looking skin under his eye with a fingertip. His cheery smile didn’t fool me. Gabe looked exhausted and I was certain he felt worse. “At a guess I slept better than you. So no, not well at all. Any word?”

  He shook his head. “No sign of Casey or the car. We had men out searching all night.”

  “What now?” I took his hand. Gabe held on as tight as I did, both of us needing comfort. Aileen and the other ghosts were victims of this killer, but I’d not known them as living, breathing people. I knew Aaron Casey, remembered the sound of his voice saying hello and how he tipped his hat to Annie with a smile.

  “Jack is pulling men from other stations to search the warehouses by the docks. Captain Parker is giving him trouble, but he’ll handle it. Once Jack has extra men, he can widen the search area. If we don’t find him today…” Helplessness and the knowledge he couldn’t save Casey filled Gabe’s eyes. He’d never lost a man under his command before. But he shut grief away, the professional mask that allowed him to do his job falling into place. Gabe stood, pulling me up, too. “We should go. Dora is expecting us by ten.”

  I put my arms around him, determined we weren’t going anywhere until I was sure he’d be all right. “Don’t you dare pretend this is all part of the job, Gabriel Ryan, not with me. Losing one of your squad like this is horrible. You can’t make me believe you don’t care. I know you too well.”

  He held me awkwardly at first, silent, breathing hard and arms stiff. Then Gabe sighed and pulled me closer. “Thank you. I made some promises to myself after Victoria died. One was to never allow this job to shut me away from people I cared about, not the way my father did. Jack said you’d never let me. Don’t tell him he was right.”

  “Not a word. Promise.” Learning all there was to know about Gabe Ryan would take time. I grew more certain each day the time would be well spent.

  We clung to each other for a moment before Gabe let go. He brushed a finger down my cheek. “I shouldn’t let you walk into my parent’s house completely unprepared. We can talk on the way to Dora’s house. Is that all right with you?”

  “Yes, of course.” My nerves had increased tenfold, but I’d put on a brave front and hope he wouldn’t notice. Distraction was always a good strategy. I put my coffee cup and saucer in the sink, and turned to face him with my most serious expression. “Keep in mind Dora will be with us all day. I imagine your parents will either be completely taken with her special charms or speechless with shock. They’ll take no notice of me at all. That should work out well.”

  Gabe grinned and held the door into the dining room open. “That would work out well. But I know my mother and you shouldn’t get your hopes up. Mom will notice you.”

  I took a breath and brushed by him into the dining room. “I’ll try to find some charm of my own then. Be sure to let me know how I’m doing.”

  “Delia.” The door closed behind him and he reached for my hand. “Stop worrying. I promise you, my parents will love you.”

  After all that had happened, hauntings and murders, and all the danger stalking us, losing my composure over whether his parents would like me or not was silly. I knew that, but I panicked anyway. Panic was the normal thing to do in this situation and I needed a moment of normality. “How can you know
that for sure?”

  “Because I—” He halted in mid-sentence. A bit of his own panic filled Gabe’s eyes, but vanished again in an instant. “Because I know they won’t feel any differently than I do. My parents will love you because I do.”

  “Oh…” I couldn’t think of a single thing to say in the face of his declaration, not one. Quiet happiness stole over me and all I could do was smile, hoping I didn’t look utterly witless.

  Annie came into the dining room, her arms full of linens. She stopped and stared at the two of us, shook her head and continued on into the kitchen. I saw her smile and wink at Gabe before the door shut. Annie never missed a thing that went on in our house.

  Gabe cleared his throat. A flush showed above his collar. “We should go. Dora’s waiting and it’s a long drive.”

  I held tight to his hand and led the way. My handbag was on the front table, my coat hanging on the hall tree. Gabe opened the door to speak to the officer on the porch as I gathered my things. The day outside was bright and sunny, the sky a perfect late-June blue.

  A shimmer at the foot of the stairs caught my eye as I slipped on my coat. Aileen rippled into view as did a smaller ghost, faded to the point of being no more than a faint glimmer against the dark carpet on the staircase.

  Victoria’s ghost come to say good-bye, the tie holding her in this world frayed and unraveling. Gabe had let go.

  Aileen met my eyes, sorrow and gladness both in that knowing gaze. She took Victoria’s hand and led her up the staircase. One step from the top, the ghosts crumbled. A veil of glimmering dust lifted toward the ceiling, spreading thinner and thinner until I lost sight.

  “Delia?” Gabe frowned and wiped a tear from my cheek. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing new. All the things that were wrong five minutes ago are still wrong. I’m just tired.” I found a smile for him and stepped out into the sunlight. “It’s a marvelous day for a drive in the country. Let’s pick up Dora and get started.”