Brody sighed. “Unfortunately, I have to agree with you.”
She angled an arch-browed look at him. “There’s one suspect we haven’t discussed.”
“Damon?” A sour taste settled on Brody’s tongue.
“He’s the only one with all the factors in place—capability, motive, opportunity—not to mention the temperament for a crime of passion. I totally hate to see you hurt, but you need to face facts for the sake of your own sanity.”
Brody studied Hallie’s face. She sincerely cared about his feelings. At least that was a start in the right direction. “Thanks. I appreciate your concern, but there’s only one problem with your evaluation. Damon didn’t do it.”
She frowned at him without a word.
He dug out his cell phone. “Which brings us back to the stalker. I’m going to call the detective on your case and see if she’s traced that license plate number yet. I’ll put the phone on speaker so we can both hear and talk.”
The detective came on the line a minute later. “Millette here.”
“This is Brody Jordan. I’m on the road toward home with Hallie Berglund. We’re hoping you’ve been able to do something with the license information we phoned in earlier today.”
“I’m glad you called…for a couple of reasons,” the detective said. “First of all, yes, I did some digging. There is a Papa Morelli’s in Thief River Falls, but none of their cars have a license plate number that matches the one you reported. I ran the plates, and come to find out, the number belongs to a car sold to a small-time dealer from a franchise here in the Twin Cities a few weeks ago. I’m following up with the dealer to see if he let it go to someone else without repainting it like he was supposed to do.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Brody said.
“Do you think this is a lead toward the stalker?” Hallie’s words came out breathless.
The connection continued silent for several heartbeats. “You may well have caught a glimpse of him, yes. But unfortunately, since he apparently spotted you, he’ll probably ditch the car somewhere. I’ve put out an APB, but that’s about all I can do, except to let you know when and if the vehicle is found.”
Brody bit back an angry comment. “What was the other thing you needed to talk to us about?”
“You’re lucky there’s not an APB out on you.”
“What?” Brody burst out in unison with Hallie.
“The precinct had a phone call from an irate pair of police officers in Thief River Falls.”
“We’ve met them,” Brody said, his gaze colliding with Hallie’s.
“I told them about the stalker and the Papa Morelli’s car, and they calmed down enough to hold off on issuing an immediate arrest warrant. But I’m asking you both to come in to the station and voluntarily give your fingerprints. It seems that James and Cheryl Drayton returned home from their daughter’s memorial service to find their house ransacked, and they’re screaming for your heads.”
SEVENTEEN
On Friday, Hallie flopped backward onto her couch. What an eternal workweek! Fortunately, the latter half had returned to a normal level of hectic after that disturbing trip to Thief River Falls. Tomorrow’s meeting with Damon should rev up the adrenaline quite a bit, and she wanted extra sleep—which was why she turned down Brody’s suggestion that they take in a movie tonight.
Well, only part of the reason. She could fall for that big ox in a big way, but until they found some closure on Alicia’s murder and the bracelet, personal involvement wasn’t smart.
Was it?
Aack! She heaved to her feet and padded to her kitchen to rustle up a little supper. Sure, she was being wise to protect her heart. Unfortunately for that plan, she already liked Brody in the same measure she used to despise him, and that was quite a bit.
She found some leftover lasagna in the refrigerator, popped it into the microwave, and then poured a glass of milk. Her phone rang at the same time as the microwave beeped done. She picked up the phone. “Hello, Hallie here.”
“This is Detective Millette. We’ve found the pizza delivery car, abandoned as we suspected, at a beach near Maple Lake, southwest of Thief River Falls. The vehicle is being examined as we speak, but I already know a couple of interesting things.”
“And those are?”
“Dog hairs are on the seats.”
“And?” An audible exhale met her question. “That doesn’t sound like something you want to share with me.”
“A female mannequin’s torso was in the passenger seat with a scarf tied around its neck. The scarf matches the description of the one that was stolen from you.”
Hallie’s knees went weak. She backpedaled to a chair and sank into it. “A direct threat?”
“I’m afraid so.” The detective cleared her throat. “There’s more. The perp wrote a message in black marker on the torso.”
“Do I want to know what it said?”
“Want to? Probably not. Need to? I think so. It said, ‘Find the real killer before I find you.’”
Hallie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “Thanks for the information. I’m not sure what to make of it, but you’re right. I needed to know.” She got up and took her steaming lasagna out of the microwave. “So on the breakin at the Draytons, are Brody and I headed for the hoosegow soon?”
“Negative. Neither of your prints was found in the Draytons’ home. The PD up that way isn’t happy about it, but they have nothing to hold you on.”
She set her plate of supper on a cloth place mat at her table. “To them, I suppose we looked as guilty as a pair of hoods with our hands in the till.”
“Frankly, they’re now as eager for positive results on the pizza car as you are.”
“In other words, they got skunked at the scene and need you to catch the stalker, and maybe he’ll confess to the breakin, because that’s the only way they’ll solve the crime.”
“Very sharp, Hallie.” Amusement leaked across the connection. “But you didn’t hear that much from me. Have you had any other incidents in the past few days?”
“Believe me, you would’ve heard from me if there’d been so much as a leaf rustle.” She sat down at the table with her milk glass.
“Good. I suspect this stalker will lay low for a while after his close call. Besides he’s got transportation issues now. Keep in touch.”
They ended the call, and Hallie nibbled a bite of pasta. Too hot. She took a gulp of milk then picked up the phone and punched in Brody’s number.
“Hello?” A man answered that wasn’t Brody.
“Damon?”
“Uh…you must have the wrong number.”
“Yeah, right. Brody’ll probably scalp you for picking up his phone. I could’ve been one of those reporters trying to locate you. Put him on, would you?”
The young man grunted and muttered something ungracious about annoying women.
Moments later, Brody came on. “Sorry about that. He’s going stir-crazy. I think that’s one of the reasons he insisted on meeting with you outdoors tomorrow. But it’s not a totally bad idea. The University of Minnesota Arboretum should offer quiet paths where we can talk. I’m making him wear the wig and sunglasses you got him, just to be on the safe side. That was a pretty clever touch, by the way.” He chuckled.
“Glad you think so. Obviously, he doesn’t have much appreciation for me.”
“What do you expect? You’re set on getting him sent away for murder.”
“I’m set on doing what I believe to be right.”
“I respect that, Hallie, and he’ll figure it out, too…eventually.”
“Excuse me if I don’t hold my breath. But Damon’s attitude is beside the point right now. I just got off the phone with Detective Millette.”
She told him what the detective shared with her, and Brody went practically ballistic. He wanted to call off the meeting and lock Hallie away in protective custody, but she clung to the detective’s logic that the stalker was without wheels fo
r the moment, and they probably had a little reprieve. He reluctantly gave in. When she laid the phone down, her lasagna was lukewarm, but she ate it anyway.
Five minutes after eight o’clock the next morning found her at the Arborvitae collection in the Arboretum. In another hour, or maybe two, if the Twin Cities populace was especially lazy on a Saturday morning, the place would entertain many visitors. But for now, there were few people strolling among the cultivated displays of flowers, trees and shrubs. Lovely scents carried on the summer wind that bowed the brightly colored flowers and native grasses and set the trees waving at each other. Too bad this wasn’t a day simply to absorb nature. She scratched under her ear where a trickle of sweat emerged from beneath the brown wig she wore, along with a pair of sunglasses.
So where were the two people she was supposed to meet? Had Damon backed out? Hands in her capri pants pockets, she watched the path. Brody came into view beside a tall, jeans-clad young man with endless, coltish legs and shaggy, dark hair topped by a cap that loyally proclaimed Minnesota Twins. Damon in disguise. Hallie knotted her fists and found her palms clammy.
Brody performed introductions, and Damon and Hallie nodded to one another, both sets of hands safely tucked in pockets. The ball player focused on her, but his eyes were hidden behind opaque glasses.
Hallie glanced toward Brody. “Could you ask him to take his glasses off while we visit? It’s unnerving not to be able to read his expression.”
Damon swiped the glasses from his face and scowled, his exposed gaze broadcasting scorn. “This was your idea, lady, and here I am. You don’t need a referee to talk to me.”
Gulping, Hallie took a step backward.
“Attitude, Damon, attitude,” Brody growled.
Damon’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I know I’m a pain to be around these days. I just wish—” He tilted his face toward the sky, eyelids blinking rapidly. “If only I would’ve gotten there early, she might be alive. You know? And we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.” He returned his gaze to Hallie, eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“So, tell me,” she said, “what exactly happened in that house?”
“I trotted up the porch at 3:58 exactly—I looked at my watch—and went inside.”
“Did you usually walk right into a house where four women lived?”
He shook his head. “No, I always had to knock, but she’d told me the door would be unlocked, and to just come in when I got there that day. She was going to have an interview, and she wanted me, and only me, there.”
Hmm. Intriguing tidbit. “Go on.”
“I walked into the living room and…found her on the floor.” A choking sound escaped his throat, and his big hands formed fists.
Hallie edged closer to Brody. “I’m listening.”
A shudder wracked the lanky frame, then Damon went still, his blue gaze steady on Hallie. “I got that cord off her and tried to revive her. That’s why the police found my DNA all over everything. Then you showed up, and I got scared and ran. That’s the whole ugly story. Believe it or not.”
“Give me some space to think it over.” Hallie took her hands from her pockets and wiped the palms against her pants. “Shall we walk up the path?”
“Okay. Sure.” The ball player shrugged and cautiously fell into step a few feet from Hallie.
She checked over her shoulder and found Brody on their heels. He sent her an encouraging nod.
Damon kicked a rock off the path with cross-trainers the size of small boats. “Brody says you want to know about Alicia’s elephant bracelet. I see you’re wearing it.” He gestured toward her arm.
“Does that bother you?”
He shook his head. “Can’t say I really liked the thing anyway. Er, no offense. I understand your mom made it.”
“What significance did it have for Alicia?”
“Well, for one thing, she got it from her mom, and it was this big secret. I guess it was pretty rare for them to share anything private together. James didn’t like it. Strange dude.”
Hallie nodded. “On that we can agree.”
“Her mom said the bracelet would bring her the love of her life. When we got together, Alicia claimed the thing was doing its job.” He snorted a laugh.
“I don’t buy into the talisman notion, either, and neither would my mom. She never fashioned a piece with anything in mind but the joy of her craft and sharing the love of God. But here’s the million dollar question. Where did Cheryl Drayton get the bracelet?”
“Can’t help you there.”
“Can’t? Won’t? Which do you mean?” Hallie stopped and planted her hands on her hips.
Damon faced her. “Really, I have no idea. I don’t think Alicia did, either.”
She flopped her arms against her sides. “Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to keep getting a stone wall or a blank stare to a simple question?”
Damon scuffed his toe against the ground. “Then maybe the question isn’t that simple.”
She pursed her lips and looked away across the natural beauty of the groomed trees and flower beds and grasslands—all appearing so simple and natural, yet in reality complex and maintained by constant labor. “Maybe it’s the answer that’s hard.”
Brody’s chuckle drew their attention. He nodded toward Damon. “See? I told you she was smart.”
The young man grinned. “Alicia was, too. Smarter than me. I loved that about her. Made her more interesting.”
“That’s a unique perspective.” Hallie started up the path again. “Brody’s probably told you that we think she attended college somewhere else before she came to the U of M.”
“She never said anything about that.”
“No clues, hints, casual references?” Hallie glanced up at his ball cap. “Team apparel?”
“Alicia wouldn’t wear anything that ordinary. She liked different clothes. Flowy things. I never even saw her in a T-sh—” He abruptly halted.
Hallie yelped as Brody sidestepped and nearly plowed into her. She backpedaled, tripped on a stick, and would have fallen except Brody’s arms came around her at the last instant. His face filled her world. Those gray eyes smiled, and her limbs turned the consistency of oatmeal.
Damon slapped his thigh and hooted. “Sorry about that. It wasn’t on purpose. But, say, those were pretty fast reflexes for an old guy.”
“Old guy?” Brody turned Hallie loose and scowled at his protégé.
Hallie firmed her knees by an act of will, tugged her blouse straight, and settled her purse strap on her shoulder. How could that man not look half as flustered as she felt?
“You can beat me up later.” Damon waved. “I just thought of something.”
Hallie dragged her gaze off Brody and focused on the younger man.
“Alicia did have a Washington Huskies T-shirt under the seat of her car that she used as a grease rag.”
“Good man!” Brody slapped Damon on the shoulder.
Voices coming from around a bend in the path halted conversation.
“You should probably go.” Hallie looked from Brody to Damon and back again.
“What’s the rush?” The tall young man strolled up the path. “Nobody’s going to recognize me with this brown mop on my head. I got me some flowers to smell.”
Brody shrugged and followed, muttering, “Stir-crazy.”
Hallie brought up the rear, shaking her head. For most of an hour they explored carefully tended cultivations of trees, and shrubs, and flower beds along paths that skirted sparkling ponds. Damon actually did get right down on his knees and smell flowers.
“What do you think?” Brody came up alongside Hallie as she watched Damon bend and finger a gold leaf on a spirea.
“If I hadn’t seen him at Alicia’s house, I’d figure him for an overgrown kid on an outing.”
“You’d figure right. There’s nothing wrong with his intellect, or he wouldn’t be able to hack it in college, but he’ll probably always be a little childlike emotionally. Vu
lnerable. Volatile, but not mean. He had plenty of chances to go bad, and he passed them up.”
Hallie refrained from answering. She wasn’t ready to admit doubts were starting to peck away at her conviction concerning the young man’s guilt.
A large tour group came toward them, and Damon straightened quickly. A nearby branch snagged his wig. Cap and all toppled off his head and crowned the shrub. His sweat-slicked golden hair glinted in the sunlight. The group separated and began to move around him, people shooting him sideways glances.
A man pointed toward Damon, and Brody’s sharp intake of breath carried to Hallie. The man whispered to the woman next to him, and she gave a little cry, wide gaze fixed on Damon. Mutters of “murderer” flowed through the crowd.
Towering above the group, Damon’s face flushed bright red. “That’s a lie! I didn’t kill anybody.”
Brody bolted from Hallie’s side. She stood rooted as he darted between milling people, grabbed Damon by the arm. He resisted for a moment, then turned and charged toward her up the path. His fisted arm struck her shoulder on the way past, and she flew backward, landing hard on her rear atop something that went crunch. Her purse!
On his way by, Brody yanked her to her feet. Like a galloping herd, they raced to the parking lot. Hallie spotted her car, veered off from the guys, and went for it. She stopped beside the driver’s door, breathing hard, and groped inside her bag with a shaking hand for her keys. Where were they? She stamped her foot.
“Are you all right?”
She jumped and turned toward Brody’s voice. “No thanks to that harmless little child you insist on protecting from the consequences of his actions.”
Witness to Murder Page 17