Under the Moonlight collection

by MaryAnn Kempher

  “Maybe he took the body,” she said.

  “Sir.” The younger officer called out. He’d just noticed the puddle of blood on the driveway, where the dead woman’s head had rested.

  Katherine stood by the cruiser, its blue and red lights swirling around and around and lighting up the night. She felt exposed and on display. Was the killer watching from afar? The lighting hadn’t been great and she didn’t think he could have gotten a good look at her. If he was nearby he would have plenty of time to memorize her face now. Didn’t the cops know this? Didn’t they care? Soon, a coroner’s truck arrived and a woman’s body was brought out of the house.

  More police arrived, but Katherine was ignored. Just as she was about to ask if she could leave, she saw a man approaching. Unlike the others she’d spoken to, he wasn’t wearing a uniform. Instead, he wore a rumpled blue suit that had seen better days.

  “Ms. O’Brian, I’m Detective Nolan.” He showed her a badge. “I know you’ve been through a lot tonight, but I need you to come with me to the station.”

  “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” answered Katherine. “I’m so tired.”

  The detective looked at Katherine with sympathy. It was important they get a thorough statement from her before she either forgot important details, or if she was lying about something, thought of a way to cover up that lie.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  ***

  Katherine followed Detective Nolan into the Reno police department building. Everything had a surreal feeling, from the bright overhead lights to the obvious prostitutes looking defensive and angry as they leaned against the wall in the corridor.

  She walked as close to the detective as possible. The handcuffed prisoners, distant arguing, and masked men, who she would later learn were undercover police officers, frightened and intimidated her. She remembered a movie she’d seen years earlier; two teenagers were somehow transported through their television to a sitcom from the fifties. She wondered if she was dreaming and had somehow inserted herself into a crime show. Just like on television, she was led into a small room with only a foldout table and two metal chairs. Detective Nolan was younger than she’d originally thought, 38 at most. His salt and pepper hair had been misleading.

  “Please sit,” he said softly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Katherine was exhausted and emotionally drained. She just wanted to go home and go to bed. In spite of this, she felt herself responding to his soothing voice. She wondered if he worked with children much. Under any other circumstances she might have been offended by his tone, but not tonight. No, the way he spoke was a welcome relief from the booming voices she’d been listening to for the last hour.

  Just as she was about to speak, the door opened and a tall, skinny man motioned for Detective Nolan to come into the hallway. A few minutes passed before both men returned.

  “Ms. O’Brian, this is Detective Spencer. He will be doing your interview.” Detective Spencer sat across from her. Katherine wasn’t sure which she felt more: amusement or disdain. To describe Spencer as skinny would be an understatement. To describe his clothing style as retro would be an insult to the ‘70s.

  With Spencer’s arrival, Katherine noticed a change in the room’s atmosphere. It seemed different, more energized, as if the air had just been given a shot of espresso. He took a wad of gum from his mouth and wrapped it in a piece of paper, then took out a notepad and pen.

  “Now, tell me what happened.”

  “…He almost caught me. He was just a few feet from where I was hiding. He’d fallen. It felt like he stood there forever. When he was gone I stayed hidden for a while, then ran home and called the police. That’s it.”

  “Why were you in that area?”

  “I told you, I was on my way to a diner,” answered Katherine.

  Detective Spencer sat back in his chair and looked at Katherine skeptically.

  “Ms. O’Brian, it’s late, and believe it or not, this case is one of at least twenty on my plate. Just be straight with me. I know you don’t really expect me to believe that you decided to go out into nearly freezing temperatures and walk four blocks at midnight for food.”

  Katherine’s face turned a soft shade of pink, a combination of embarrassment over the boneheaded thing she’d done and anger at nearly being called a liar.

  “Yes, I do expect you to believe it, because it’s the truth. I know it probably wasn’t the brightest thing for me to do, but I can actually see the diner’s sign from my apartment. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

  The detective sighed and sat forward. “How close to the man were you? What did he look like?”

  Katherine was getting exasperated. “I was across the street. I didn’t get a good look at him. I was paying more attention to what he was holding.”

  He looked down at his notepad. “I understand you live very near the crime scene?”

  “Yes, maybe two blocks away.”

  The door opened and this time Detective Nolan motioned for Spencer to come into the hall.

  Detective Nolan brought Katherine a cup of water. They left her alone for five minutes, and then Spencer returned.

  “Okay, let’s go through this again. Tell what happened.”

  “Oh my God,” said Katherine, “you’re kidding me, right?”

  He wasn’t. Katherine told her story three times, twice to Spencer and once to Nolan. Finally, at around 3:00 a.m., she was escorted home. Before she left, Detective Spencer gave her his card and told her to call him at any time if she recalled anything, no matter how minor.

  Chapter Four

  Tuesday afternoon, Katherine rushed home to freshen up. That morning, she’d forced herself out of bed. She hadn’t been working at her job as an administrative assistant for long, so she didn’t feel comfortable calling in sick, even though she’d barely gotten three hours sleep. But, tired as she was, she was looking forward to seeing Scott at the library. She didn’t mind getting a warm fuzzy from her handsome partner, but that was as far as it would go. Between her new job, coursework, and other things, there was no room on her to-do list for men, especially men that dressed as women. She didn’t need that kind of confusion in her life.

  ***

  Katherine arrived at the library a few minutes before five thirty. She browsed the shelves of books until she saw Scott walk through the front doors. He looked around for her, stopped by the front desk, and finally sat down.

  “Been waiting long?” she asked, taking a seat next to him.

  Scott stood. He towered over her.

  “I reserved us a private room,” he said, nodding toward a room obviously used by students and their tutors.

  Well, okay then, thought Katherine as she followed him inside. Not a chatty guy, is he?

  There was a large table and four chairs. She set her purse down and chose a seat. Scott sat on the opposite side of the table. He pulled out a notebook - straight to business.

  Katherine took off her ball cap. Scott admired her hair. It was dark blonde, full and bouncy, and just past her shoulders.

  “I think we should talk about each other’s strengths, find out who should do what,” he said. “Do you have any experience doing slide presentations?”

  Isn’t that just like a man, right away wanting to assert his authority. Well, he’s not going to push me around, no matter how sexy his voice is.

  “I don’t like creating slides,” she said in a voice meant to sound confident. “I’ll do the oral part of the presentation.”

  Scott took out the project instructions, and Katherine did the same. He started to read them aloud. She pretended to read along, but it was hard to focus. The scent of his cologne and his deep voice worked together to hinder her ability to concentrate. Annoyed with herself, she sat up straighter, yanked her copy of the instructions closer and said, “You don’t need to read out loud. I have my own copy.”

  A slight crease appeared on Scott’s forehead, the only indication that he was ann
oyed by Katherine’s abruptness.

  “Listen,” said Katherine as she stood, “it’s only the first week of class. Let’s pace ourselves. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She started out the door. Scott followed, a perplexed look on his face. They’d only just gotten to the library—what was her hurry? He decided she was beautiful, but a little obnoxious.

  “Bye,” said Katherine, not waiting for an answer.

  ***

  Wednesday morning, Katherine rushed through the front doors of Avalon Apparel, her employer. She almost fell, and made it to the elevator just in time to risk losing a hand when she reached through the doors as they closed.

  The first thing Katherine did was log in to her computer and see if there were any news stories regarding the murder near her apartment. There hadn’t been yesterday, but today, it didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. The woman’s name had been Jeanette Churchill, and she’d been sixty-one. The police had no suspects, seemed to think it was a robbery gone bad, and thankfully did not mention that there had been a witness.

  She started working, but her thoughts drifted to Scott and her own behavior the night before at the library. She worried she might have come across more harshly than she’d meant to. She’d been cranky from lack of sleep and hadn’t meant to be snotty—she just didn’t want him thinking he’d be calling all the shots while they worked together. Her soon-to-be ex-husband was on the bossy side too, and she knew her behavior was as much about him as it was about Scott. She rummaged through her purse until she found the slip of paper with Scott’s cell phone number on it.

  “Would you like to meet for lunch?” she asked. She’d only called to apologize, and was almost as surprised as Scott when the invitation fell from her lips.

  “Maybe. Let me call you later.”

  She gave him her work number and hung up.

  ***

  Scott hung up, then shielded his eyes while looking up at the Bennet Building, a multi-purpose high-rise—the largest in Reno—and the home of his new employer. It was at least twenty stories tall and seemed to be made completely of glass.

  He’d be working with life insurance policies, not his first career choice, but that’s what he got for not finishing his degree. He’d grown up about 25 miles south of Reno, in Carson City, and probably would have lived there forever if not for what had happened. He still felt like a coward for leaving like he had. Carson was a relatively small city and he knew a lot of the people. Reno wasn’t much bigger, but at least he wouldn’t run into his ex-fiancé or their former mutual friends and feel their disapproval, real or imagined.

  He stalled for as long as he could. Finally, with a glance back at his jeep, he went inside. The elevator rocketed him upstairs, and after he got out he looked into the first door he saw. Before he could say anything, a round, white-haired man of about 60 came toward him with one chubby, bejeweled hand held out.

  “You must be Scott. Come on in,” he said in a breathless voice. The man introduced himself as Will, Scott’s new supervisor. Scott looked around the office. He estimated that with three or four long strides he’d be able to bridge the distance between the door and the farthest wall. Will didn’t waste any time before showing and telling Scott exactly what was expected of him.

  “As you know, a major branch office in Las Vegas is being closed and all the files are being sent here. I can't do my current workload and sort hundreds of files from another branch, which is where you come in.” He pointed toward a stack of boxes nearby. “The policies starting with the letter ‘A’ have already arrived.”

  Scott heaved one heavy box onto his desk, sending shivers across the worn-out wood. He half expected the weight of the box to bring an untimely death to the desk. He spent the rest of the morning alternating between staring out his window and reviewing a huge pile of insurance claims. He needed to ensure that every file on the master inventory matched what they’d received. After a few files, he decided this was work he could do in his sleep. He called Katherine and they agreed to meet at the café of a local Barnes & Noble at eleven o’clock. Lunch was a welcome relief.

  Chapter Five

  As Katherine pulled on the doors of the bookstore, she saw Scott walking toward her with two coffees.

  “I saw you drive up. Cafe mocha, nonfat, no whip, right?”

  She took the coffee gratefully, then followed Scott to the table. “Thank you. How much?”

  As they sat down, Scott said, “Forget it. Listen, I might have to miss tonight’s class and probably Friday’s.”

  “The first week and you’re already skipping school?” she said, hoping the annoyance wasn’t obvious in her voice, and that he didn’t make skipping class a habit.

  “Just bad timing. Maybe we could get together this weekend? What do you think?”

  What did she think? She wasn’t sure. On one hand she didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing; they were partners and for a good grade, she was willing to get together outside of class. On the other hand, it had been over six months since she’d spent any significant amount of time with anyone, never mind a hot guy. She asked herself just what she thought was going to happen. Nothing.

  “I guess. I can let you know if you missed anything important.”

  “Hey,” said Scott. “Did you hear about that lady who got murdered near here? I rode my bike past the house. The crime scene tape is still up. Little too close to home for comfort.”

  Katherine didn’t respond - that woman’s murder was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

  Scott excused himself and went toward the counter. Katherine was happy for the opportunity to openly look at him. He was tall, maybe 6’4’’, almost a foot taller than her, and muscular but without looking like he spent half his life at the gym. And she knew he was just her type, with his dark hair and dark eyes. Which was why after only a few minutes she said, “Listen, I have to go. I just remembered some things I need to do. I’d like to get them done before going back to work.”

  Scott was flabbergasted. He found Katherine’s inability to sit still for any decent length of time annoying and was tempted to tell her so. Instead he stood and said, “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you Saturday then. Here, around eleven?”

  Katherine had already turned and started walking away. She waved a dismissive hand, saying, “Sure, sure. Eleven o’clock. Bye.”

  Scott sat down. Taking a bite of his sandwich, he watched through the large windows as Katherine went to her car.

  ***

  Scott sat at his desk, thumbing through policy after policy. He smiled when Will walked in - how could he not? The man was Santa Claus in a Hawaiian shirt. Though it was only his first day, he already felt comfortable at his new job. He hated to be micro-managed, and so far Will seemed the type to leave him alone, though it was a little too soon to tell for sure.

  “Why don’t you take a break?” Will asked. “Let’s get to know each other a little bit.”

  Scott closed the cardboard box he’d been working with and pushed it aside. “What would you like to know?” he asked.

  Will leaned back in his chair. “Oh you know, the usual. Are you married, do you have kids? That sort of thing.”

  “Nope, not married. Almost married, but escaped just in time. You?”

  Will laughed. “No. One day, maybe. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I did hear you talking earlier, to someone I assumed was a woman. Girlfriend?”

  “No. I’m taking a class, and she’s my study partner.”

  “Oh. Well, about those policies - when I’m caught up on my work, I’ll help you out with a few boxes. I know sifting through all those can’t be the most exciting thing to do.”

  Scott laughed. “No, but I didn’t get into insurance for all the excitement.”

  “You said you were almost married…what’s that mean?”

  Ok, so he isn’t a micro-manager, but he sure is nosy. “Dated a woman for a while, and marriage seemed like the next logical step, but it didn�
��t work out that way.”

  ***

  Scott had family and friends in Carson, and even though it was only about a 40 minute drive, he hardly saw them since his move to Reno. But Friday, he drove straight to Carson City from work. It was his best friend Jason’s birthday. When Scott arrived at the chicken wing place where he and Jason had agreed to meet, a pitcher of beer and two buckets of wings were already on the table. Scott slid into the booth and grabbed a chilled mug. Jason pushed a basket toward him. “Deathly hot for me, and you’re-a-wimp-and-shouldn't-be-allowed-to-eat-wings for you.”

  “I'm no wimp,” said Scott. “I like to actually taste the wings I’m eating. I don’t have to prove what a man I am by eating pure fire.”

  Jason shrugged his shoulders and attacked his wings.

  Scott had met Jason McGuire during their freshman year of high school. Jason had told some older boys who were messing with Scott to knock it off and had gotten a fat lip for his effort. Three months later, after a huge growth spurt, Scott was able to return the favor when those same boys made Jason their target. From then on they’d been friends, doing everything together. Both loved to bike, both played football, and they even took nearly all the same college courses. Jason finished his degree in Criminal Justice and went on to work for the Carson City police department. But Scott, just a few classes away from graduation, left school.

  They ate in silence for a while. Every now and then a scantily-clad waitress brought them more beer, flirting shamelessly with both men. Jason ate the attention up, but Scott, as usual, hardly noticed it. Finally, they sat back and groaned; both were stuffed and contented. Jason looked out the window next to their booth. “Hey, when are you going to get rid of the jeep? You’ve had it forever.”

  “No can do, buddy. Chicks dig the jeep,” Scott said with a wink.

  Jason rolled his eyes. Scott was hardly a skirt-chaser.