Dirty Little Secrets (Romantic Mystery) Book 1 in the J.J. Graves Series

by Hart, Liliana

  Jack got up and went to the fax machine, flipping through until he found the pages he wanted. “Son of a bitch. What did you find on the tox screen?”

  “He had way over the legal limit in his system punched up with a couple of painkillers. I found that he did show signs of early cold symptoms, so him calling Janette Taylor and cancelling his appointments was probably legitimate. There wasn’t anything in his stomach other than the liquid he’d consumed before he died,” I said. “Hey, while you’re over there make me a copy of those pages.”

  He did as I asked and brought them back to me. “Seems early to start out the day that way. Do you think he was planning on killing himself anyway? Booze and pills?”

  “Could be, but he didn’t have enough in his system to do anything but knock himself out for a few hours, and I don’t remember seeing the pill bottle lying around anywhere.”

  “There wasn’t one gathered into evidence,” Jack said, confirming my suspicion.

  “Which means that Dr. Hides was given the drugs by the killer, and he took the rest of them with him when he left. What he had in his system is not normally a fast acting drug. It usually takes twenty to thirty minutes to seep into the system, but the alcohol probably helped speed up the process, slowing his reflexes and bringing on extreme lethargy in about ten minutes.”

  “He didn’t have to drug the women to overpower them,” Jack said. “Why’d he change his pattern?”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to take any chances with a man. Hides wasn’t a big man, but he was bigger than the women. And maybe in a neighborhood like that, where the houses are practically on top of each other, he was afraid to make too much commotion in case there were any neighbors within hearing distance.”

  “The deputies who canvassed door to door didn’t come up with anything useful. Everyone they talked to said they didn’t notice any cars up or down the street besides ours when we pulled up, and no one noticed any strangers walking around.”

  I gave this a couple of minutes thought and drew a few conclusions, but I wanted to see what Jack thought so I let him continue before I voiced my own opinions.

  “So let’s say that the killer parks his vehicle a couple of blocks away and walks the distance to Dr. Hides’ residence. There are several businesses with crowded parking lots close enough to get there quickly and back without anyone noticing. He cuts up the side of the house and goes right to the front door like his patients do.

  “There was a back door leading in through the kitchen, but I’d think it would be unlikely for him to enter that way because the backyard is fenced with a padlock. We didn’t see any signs of disturbance in the back yard. There was still a little snow on the ground and everything was pristine. And if this guy was wrapped up in a coat and scarf no one would be able to distinguish any features if they did happen to catch a glimpse of him.

  “There were signs that Dr. Hides had been holed up in his office working. There were a couple of patient files on his desk, a box of Kleenex, some juice and cough drops. He’s busy trying to concentrate on work and ignore the cold when he hears the doorbell. He’s irritated at the interruption, maybe thinking one of his patients showed up anyway even though he cancelled. He gets up to answer the door, leaving everything as it was on the desk, and opens the door to the killer who probably made his way inside the house by threatening the doctor with a weapon of some kind.

  “There were no signs of struggle, so the doctor must have followed directions, thinking he’d be fine as long as he did what the man said. Suppose the killer enters the house with the doctor at gunpoint, and they head upstairs to the second floor because he doesn’t want to have to haul the doctor up the stairs himself. Too much work. He tells Hides to take the pills and drink the alcohol to keep him from struggling, and as soon as they take effect he rapes him. We found the doctor only wearing his robe, but there were some pajamas found inside the laundry hamper.”

  “So he takes Dr. Hides’ pajamas off, rapes him, puts the robe back on him while he’s still disoriented and groggy from the drugs, puts the noose around his neck and throws him off the second story balcony.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. It’s better than anything else we’ve got at this point.”

  “He was taking a chance being in there so long,” I said. “At the minimum, he would have been there between forty-five minutes to an hour between walking to and from the house, the rape and then searching for the files.”

  “Dr. Hides’ keys were found on the desk. After he was through throwing the doctor off the balcony, he put the pajamas in the dirty clothes hamper, grabbed the keys and took the two files. He locked the file cabinets back up and put the keys back where he found them. Cleaned up after himself to make it look more like initial suicide. He’s well organized, and he’s had a well-thought out plan with every murder. I’d say it took him no more than half and hour inside the house.”

  “Seems like a lot of trouble to go to when he didn’t bother to disguise the other victims with apparent suicide. Why’d he change this time around?”

  “Not a clue,” Jack said, shrugging. “What about Amanda Wallace? Did you find anything similar in her system?”

  “I didn’t find alcohol if that’s what you’re asking,” I said. My brain was fuzzy and tired and my heart hurt just a little, so I laid my head on Jack’s desk and looked at my feet. “She was eight weeks pregnant, Jack.”

  “Christ, what more could happen during this case. Do you think Colburn knows?”

  “No, he would have said something when we met with him yesterday. But she knew. I’ll have to check to make sure, but I’d bet anything that she had an appointment with her OB the morning she cancelled her regular appointment with Dr. Hides.”

  “This is a mess. I’m going to have to tell Colburn the news,” Jack said, rubbing his face.

  “He’s got a right to know about the baby. All we have to worry about now is the riot between Harvey Wallace and Colburn when this news makes its way around town. I’m hoping to God her funeral doesn’t end up like a battle ground. Sorry to hear about Harvey moving Amanda to the Here and Gone, by the way.”

  “It happens,” I said. At this point I was ready to shut down the funeral home for a few weeks and hibernate with a few dozen books and a bottle of gin. “I think you should tell Colburn about the baby, but why don’t we keep the news just between the three of us? The Wallace’s are going to have a hard enough time dealing with the way Amanda died. Knowing about the baby will just bring them more pain. Her children deserve to keep as many good memories as possible of their mother.”

  “Fine by me,” Jack said. “I’d prefer not to have to open that can of worms anyway. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep, Jaye? You look like hell.” He pulled me up out of the chair and gave me a hug, rubbing the back of my neck in slow circles. It felt so good to lean on someone for a minute that I rested my head against his chest and could have fallen asleep where I stood.

  “If I wasn’t so tired I’d hurt you for saying that. But it’s probably true, so I’ll let it pass this once.” I took a shaky breath and knew I needed to get it all out. “I’m sorry if I let you down yesterday. I was wrong. About everything.”

  I hoped he knew I was talking about Brody because I didn’t want to have to go into detail. It was still too raw for me to think about, much less speak about. It’s never good to find out that someone doesn’t want you or love you enough. “I wasn’t thinking straight,” I said. “But I’ve got things under control now. I’ll do better next time.”

  “Ah hell, Jaye. You have never once let me down since I’ve known you. I was a bastard for doing things that way, and I should be the one apologizing. But that doesn’t mean I’m not glad that you’ve come to your senses about other matters.”

  He ran his hand over the back of my hair out of habit and pushed stray pieces behind my ears.

  “I’ve got to head back over the Alexandretta Boutique in a couple of hours. Marie called and told me one of her other e
mployees saw a man in a black SUV drop Fiona Murphy in front of the store one day. I’m going to see if I can get a description. I tried to stop by and talk to her yesterday morning before I picked you up to go see Harvey Wallace, but it turned out she called in sick, so it was a bust.”

  I felt like an idiot. Jack had had a perfectly legitimate excuse for being in Nottingham yesterday morning, and I felt lower than slime for even considering that he’d had anything to do with murder.

  “I’ll let you know what I find out,” he said.

  I pulled out of his grasp and reached for my bag, shoving the papers Jack had copied inside. I had to concentrate to put one foot in front of the other without falling over from exhaustion.

  “Oh, and Jaye,” he said, stopping me before I made it out the door. “I think you and I have some things to sit down and talk about when all this is over. It’s time, don’t you think, to get things out in the open?”

  I wanted to pretend like I didn’t know what he was talking about. I was all too afraid the dynamics had changed between us and exactly what that would mean to our friendship. I was thinking after this was over I should probably take a vacation to some tropical island for a month or two. Or maybe I’d join a convent and never look at a man again. If I’d had more energy I would have run like crazy from the look in Jack’s eyes. It wasn’t one I’d seen before, and it wasn’t one I was sure I wanted to see.

  Hmm. . . Something to think about.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jumbled pieces of information were rearranging themselves in my brain to make a coherent thought. There had been something pricking at my memory ever since I’d talked to Agent Carver, but I couldn’t bring it to the surface. I’d have to put it on hold until I was horizontal for a few hours.

  I looked at my house as a stranger would. It seemed like I hadn’t been there in days, or felt the softness of my own bed. But it had only been a day, only a day since I’d woke with Brody, made love with Brody. And only a day since it had all come crashing down around my ears. Pretty crappy day all in all if I say so myself.

  I barely remembered to pull the keys out of the ignition before I stumbled out of the car and through the front door. I left clothes in a trail behind me, left the red light flashing on the answering machine and fell face first onto the bed. The last thing I thought before I drifted off was that the pillow still smelled like Brody.

  I sat up in bed with the air trapped in my lungs and my body covered in sweat from the nightmare. Sunlight streamed through the blinds in my bedroom and reflected off of dust mites in the air.

  “No, no, no,” I sobbed, pulling on the first clean t-shirt and shorts I found in my drawer. The nightmare was still fresh in my mind, and I wanted it to be gone. I wanted to be wrong. I should have seen the similarities sooner. If I hadn’t been so tired, so overwhelmed with what had been happening in my small town and my life I would have.

  My feet hit hard against the wood of the stairs and echoed through the empty house. My bag was still on the kitchen table, and I rummaged around until I had the open case files of the other murders in my hand.

  “Oh, Brody.”

  Brody had been here at the start of it all. He’d been at every scene. Stanley Lipinski had placed Brody in Nottingham the morning of Dr. Hides’ murder. I tried to think back to the morning of Fiona’s murder. He’d shown up around town early that morning looking for me and not trying to hide it. He’d said he’d found out about the murder from inside sources. And he’d admittedly been at the hotel the morning Amanda Wallace was killed. Breakfast was an easy way to cover what he’d really been up to. And he was certainly strong enough to come out the victor in any physical battle. He definitely didn’t have the physique of a man who sat behind a desk all day.

  I was an idiot. Why hadn’t I seen it sooner? I hadn’t wanted to see, that’s why. I’d been blinded by my emotions. I dumped the papers on the floor as I scrambled to get to the phone on the desk. To call Jack.

  “What are you doing, Jaye?” Brody asked from the doorway.

  I froze with the receiver in my hand, panic etched on every line of my face. Goosebumps whispered over my chilled skin and my breath was labored. “Stay away from me,” I said. “I know you did it.”

  “What are you talking about?” He asked, genuinely confused. His voice was calm and soothing, as if he were dealing with an irrational child. “You think I killed all those people? How could you think that? Why would you think that?”

  My finger still hovered over the numbers on the phone, ready to dial if he stepped any closer. “I was finally able to put it together after getting more than a couple of hours of sleep. Amazing how the mind shuts down when a body is sleep deprived.”

  “I believe the sleep deprivation was a mutual decision on both our parts,” Brody said. “It’s been pure luck that I’ve gotten any work at all done. Come on Jaye, put the phone down and let’s talk this out.”

  “You can’t change what you’ve done,” I said. “You were here from the beginning. It almost seemed too easy that you’d show up on my doorstep just a couple of hours after the first murder. I probably made it easier for you each time. What better way to research your book than to create the crimes in real life. Is this what you do for all your books?”

  “Jaye, you’ve got to listen to me. I’ve never killed anyone. I swear that to you. And I need to tell you something else. Something I should have said from the first moment I sat across from you in candlelight. I love you.”

  “Don’t tell me that!” I screamed. “You never loved me. You used me and probably laughed at how easy I fell into your arms.”

  “That’s not true. I do love you, and I’ve had a lot of time to think about things between last night and now. I thought about us mostly, but I thought about the murders too. I know who the killer is, Jaye.”

  “Yeah, you already shared that information. And it’s not Jack by the way.”

  “I know that,” he said. “I was jealous.”

  “What?” Confused didn’t begin to describe what I was feeling at that moment. “Well, if Jack’s not the killer and you say you’re not the killer, then who did it?”

  Brody didn’t get a chance to answer. The gunshot sounded like a cannon inside the house. My ears rung and the stench of cordite burned my nostrils. It seemed like everything happened in slow motion. I watched the front of Brody’s chest expand and open as the bullet exited and embedded itself in the wall behind me. I screamed as the red bloom of blood covered the front of his shirt and splattered on the carpet in front of him and the desk that I was still standing behind.

  Brody dropped to his knees, the look of surprise still on his face, and fell forward. I rushed around the desk to get to him, only thinking that I had to save him. He loved me. I’d almost forgotten about the gunman in the doorway.

  “I hate to say it, but your boyfriend was right,” the man said. “He wasn’t the killer.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jeremy Mooney smiled a smile so familiar it hurt to look at it. His eyes held the look of someone who wasn’t all-together there and his skin was sallow and slicked with sweat. He was still in uniform and his police issue revolver was in his hand.

  “Cat got your tongue, Dr. Graves. I’ve never known you to be speechless. Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asked.

  “I think you’re finally starting to grow a little facial hair,” I said. “Congratulations.” My voice was steady and calm. I ignored the gun pointed at me and kept going to Brody’s still form. I was in the place inside my head that I’d had to create when I was doing ER rounds at Augusta General. I had one goal and one purpose—to save a life—even though in my mind I already knew it was too late.

  “Leave him be,” Jeremy said. “He’s already dead. There’s nothing you can do.”

  I choked on a sob and kept going, kneeling beside Brody’s still form just so I’d have the proof I needed. Jeremy was right. Brody’s pulse had already stopped. Was it my curse to lose everyone
I loved, or worse yet to lose the people that loved me in return?

  I was frozen in shock, but the cold steel of the gun against my head brought me back to reality.

  “I’m so sorry about your loss,” he said, laughing. He nudged me to stand up, and I did so slowly. Brody’s blood was thick and sticky on my fingers.

  “I’m going to put away the gun for now,” he said. “I don’t want to use it on you. But don’t get any ideas. I’m stronger than I look. I have to use my hands on you for this to be perfect. I’ve wanted to use my hands on you for a long time.”

  I frantically tried to think of a way I could get out of the house and find help, but there was no way I could move fast enough. I might have a chance if I could get to the basement and lock myself inside, but I didn’t particularly want to get a bullet in the back.

  “You know, Jaye,” he said. “You were the start of all of this, going back before I had to start punishing Bloody Mary’s fine, upstanding citizens. Practice makes perfect. But you’re reason so many people have died. How does it feel to know you’re responsible for so many deaths?”

  I felt sick. Could I really be at fault?

  “I’ve always been fascinated by your ability to face death with such cold indifference. You love death—the blood, the last breath. The power.” He looked at me like we shared a common bond that no one else could understand. “You know, when I was younger, I loved watching your reactions as the people closest to you were buried in the ground. But you never shed a tear.”

  “I don’t like to cry in front of people,” I said softly, trying to imagine how my pride looked to others. Did they think I was cold and uncaring? I wasn’t sure I had any feelings left at all. The grief in my life had been so overwhelming all I felt was numb.

  “You and I, Jaye,” he said, motioning at me with his hand. “You don’t mind if I call you by your first name, do you?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “We’re alike in so many ways. I don’t feel anything but a cold void when I take someone’s life. You and I were meant to be together. But it didn’t matter what I did to get your attention. You never noticed me.”