“I don’t know, we’ll see.”
Jack’s mother stood and tossed the towel onto the counter near the sink. “Ah, we’ll see. We’ll see. I thought once you moved back from Florida, I’d see more of you.”
Jack resisted the siren call of guilt. His mother had perfected its melody. “I was just here a few weeks ago,” he said as he stood. “And now, I’d better go. Back to work for me, too.” He leaned down and kissed his mother’s cheek. “I love you.”
She smiled. “I love you, too.”
“Tell Dad I said ‘hi.’”
“Tell him yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
***
Saturday morning, Jack sat at his desk looking at his phone. He had two voice mails. One was from his ex-girlfriend; he’d deleted that as soon as he’d realized it was her. The second was Detective Nolan. He and Jack were playing phone tag. Jack had left him a message telling him about Yvonne’s request and asking if they could get together to discuss the case. The reply left by Nolan was chilly—yes, he’d meet with Jack, but it was clear that he wasn’t happy about it. As Jack was listening to the message again, his phone rang.
It was Nolan.
“Jack,” he said abruptly, “why are you getting involved with a department case?”
“Hello to you too, Nolan,” Jack said.
Nolan paused. “Sorry for that. I’ve been working non-stop since Candy Dashwood’s body was found. I’m a little punchy. Now…tell what this is all about.”
“It’s like I said on the message I left you,” Jack told him. “Candy’s mom came by the office yesterday. She’s not convinced Mark is the murderer.”
“We have a lot of evidence that suggests he is,” said Nolan.
“The DNA?”
“How’d you know about that?”
“Mark told me.”
“Yeah, there’s that…and there’s fight they had in the bar parking lot, witnessed by at least a dozen people.”
“Come on,” said Jack. “Both of those are circumstantial. He and Candy were dating—of course there’s going to be DNA. And the fight? Well…lovers fight. That doesn’t mean they murder each other.”
“It was enough to arrest him. Listen Jack, let’s get coffee. I’ll show you my notes, but that’s the best I can do.”
Jack was surprised by the offer.
He jumped at it.
“Where and when?”
They agreed upon a time and place and Jack hung up.
“What’s going on?” Curt asked.
“Nolan has agreed to meet with me and let me see his notes.”
“Really?” said Curt. “That kind of surprises me.”
“It surprises me, too,” said Jack. “For Nolan to show me his notes is huge, and it tells me something important.”
“What’s that?”
“That he isn’t convinced they have the right guy either. There’s no way he’ll come right out and say it, but I’d bet he’s hoping maybe I’ll see something he and his partner have missed.”
***
Nolan had asked Jack to meet him at a restaurant in Carson City, and Jack knew exactly why. Nolan didn’t want to risk anyone from the department seeing them together. While everyone liked Jack, he was no longer one of them, and their meeting would raise eyebrows—especially if anyone suspected Nolan was sharing information about a murder investigation.
Jack arrived first and took a booth in a secluded corner. He ordered coffee and tried not to smile as Nolan walked across the restaurant toward him. His suit was wrinkled, and his hair slightly messy.
Nolan’s partner, Spencer, sauntered in a moment later, looking like a 1970s version of John Travolta, Jack was annoyed. He’d hoped that Nolan would come alone. Both men slid silently into the booth. They ordered coffee as Nolan pushed his notebook across the table.
“I just want to be on record,” said Spencer, “as saying that I’m against this. You’re not a cop anymore, Jack.” Spencer looked at Nolan. “And I don’t think we should be helping you in a way that could end up making us look bad.”
Jack opened the notebook it and started looking through the pages. “I’m not trying to make you look bad, Spencer. I’m just trying to figure this out.” He read the pages. “She was on the couch naked?”
“Yes,” answered Nolan. “She was in the living room covered with a blanket. The word ‘whore’ was written across her forehead with lipstick. We didn’t release those details to the press.”
“And the note you mention here…blackmail, you think?”
“Don’t know. Maybe.”
“Says here there was a stain on the window sill where a plant had been…” It hardly sounded like a clue. Did you find the plant?”
“Yeah, in the garbage.”
The waitress brought their coffee and walked away. Nolan grabbed a cream dispenser and a sugar packet.
“And the missing picture?” Jack asked.
“Didn’t find it.”
Jack stirred cream into his coffee. “So what’s your theory, then?”
“We think she may have known her murderer; whoever it was took the time to take her to the couch and cover her with a blanket. Maybe someone she was dating, or a jealous wife or girlfriend of someone who was seeing her on the side. Can’t think of another reason for someone to write ‘whore’ on her forehead.”
“Who all have you talked to?”
“Just her mother, briefly.”
Jack looked at Nolan, an incredulous look on his face. “None of her friends or coworkers?”
“We went to see her mom first. She wasn’t able to help out much with a list of friends. Spencer tried to interview the only friend her mother knew about, but she was unavailable. Then Mark was arrested. It didn’t seem necessary after that.”
Jack noticed that Nolan seemed slightly embarrassed by this, and he wondered if any real effort had been made to speak to her friend at all. Spencer making one or two phone calls didn’t count as much of one.
“What about her boss, Sergeant Pike?”
“We were told he wouldn’t be available until the following week. By that time the DNA had come back, it was Mark’s, as you know. A warrant was issued, and you know the rest.”
Jack didn’t know what to say. If it had only been Spencer, he wouldn’t have been too surprised. But he’d expected far more from Nolan. This was just lazy police work.
“I know what you’re thinking, Jack,” Nolan said. “And if the judge hadn’t issued the arrest warrant, we’d still be actively investigating the case. But this isn’t our only case; I have seven others on my desk, all without suspects. I don’t have time to keep investigating a murder that already has a suspect in jail.”
Jack could see his point. Now more than ever, he was glad for Nolan’s cooperation. Unlike Nolan, he did have the time, and assuming Mark was innocent, he would do the work to prove it.
Jack took a small notebook from his coat pocket and quickly copied Nolan’s notes. “Can I get copies of the crime scene photos, too?” He knew this was a lot to ask; it was one thing to share notes, but the crime scene photos were official evidence.
Nolan didn’t answer right away. Jack knew the man was weighing the risk. “I’ll get you copies,” he said finally.
Spencer shook his head in disgust.
Jack stood. “Thanks for this,” he said.
“This meeting never happened,” Nolan said.
“What meeting is that?” Jack asked, winking. He tossed a few dollars onto the table and walked out of the restaurant.
On the drive back to Reno, he thought about all he’d need to do. He was already behind the curve. It was so important to talk to people as soon as possible after a crime was committed.
Memories faded, alibis could be created, lies thought of…
***
Jack walked into the funeral home. Yvonne was standing near several police officers. Quite a few had turned out for the service, even though Candy had only worked for the department a
year or so. She’d been popular, by the looks of things. He noticed most in attendance were men—Sergeant Pike was there, and Ryan Gleason. Jack couldn’t help but wonder how Mark was doing, and if he would he have come to the funeral if he were free…
He walked over to Yvonne.
“Thank you for coming Jack,” she said. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it.”
Jack put his hand on her back, “Are you okay, Yvonne? Is there anything I can get you?”
“I’m fine.” And she looked fine. He looked closer. Actually, she looked a little drunk…not that it mattered to Jack. If Yvonne needed a few drinks to get her through her daughter’s funeral, who was he to judge?
Yvonne looked behind Jack. He turned. “She’s in there,” she said.
Jack had seen his share of dead bodies. He’d worked homicide for a lot of years before leaving the department. However, it was one thing to see the body of a stranger; it was another thing entirely to see the body of someone you’d known.
He walked over and looked down at the angelic face of Candy Dashwood, wondering who could have wanted her dead. Was it a planned murder, or a crime of passion?
Ryan walked up beside him. “It’s a terrible thing, to die so young,” Ryan said.
Jack nodded. He was tempted to ask Ryan if he had any theories, but this wasn’t the time or the place.
The service was short. Everyone headed to the cemetery afterward. Jack looked around, wondering if Candy’s killer might be among those who had come. From Nolan’s notes alone, Jack thought it possible she’d known her killer. Everyone looked solemn, and no one stood out among the crowd.
As the service ended and the people left, Jack watched a young woman, he recognized as Candy’s friend, Diana, approach the casket. She placed a white rose on top, then walked away.
***
Saturday evening, Jack sat at his desk, surprised at how quickly the day had gone by. His only light came from a small lamp on a nearby table.
“Jack?”
He looked up, surprised to see Nene Albright at the door.
He stood. “Ms. Albright? It’s late for you to be up, isn’t it?”
Nene smiled. “Yes, it is. Sometimes I have trouble sleeping. I remembered something I’d forgotten to put away in the store. I was just popping down to do that when I saw light from under your door.”
“I’ll be out of here soon, too.” Jack said. “Ms. Albright?”
“Yes?”
“Forgive me if I’m being too nosy, but you mentioned your husband and children. I was just wondering…what about your sister? Was she married? Does she have children?”
Nene walked into the office, closed the door behind her, and sat in the chair near Jack’s desk. “I know how Gaga seems to outsiders,” said Nene. “So serious, so stern. But she wasn’t always like that. Oh, she was never flighty or silly, but she’s had sadness in her life. More than most people.” Nene’s voice was soft. “She was married. She had two children—a boy named Daniel, and a girl named Rose. Her husband left when the kids were small. She raised them on her own. Her son joined the military right out of high school. He was about twenty-three during the first gulf war, he didn’t come home.”
“Oh,” said Jack. “I’m so sorry.” He let a silent second pass. “And her daughter?”
“She got into a bad crowd. Overdosed when she was just twenty.”
Jack didn’t know what to say.
Nene stood again. “Please don’t let on that I’ve told you this,” she said. “Gaga wouldn’t like you knowing. She could never abide pity.”
He nodded. “Understood.”
Nene smiled as she left. “Goodnight, Jack. Don’t stay too much longer.”
Jack smiled. “I won’t.” He turned his attention back to the notes Nolan had allowed him to copy. Over and over he read them, each time expecting to see something he’d missed. So far, nothing had jumped out at him. He hoped he’d get more useful information once he sat down with Yvonne. He’d talk to her first…then he’d contact Candy’s friend Diana. She’d likely have more insight into Candy’s personal life than Yvonne would.
He rubbed his eyes. It was nearly midnight. Finally, he stood, turned off the table lamp and left the office.
***
On Sunday morning, Jack headed toward Yvonne’s place, beset by apprehension. It had been difficult enough seeing her at the service on Saturday; now that Candy had been put to rest, he wasn’t sure what shape her mother would be in.
He walked slowly to her door and rang the bell. A few seconds passed before the door opened.
Yvonne smiled weakly from the other side. “Hi Jack,” she said. “Please come in.”
She stepped aside and Jack walked inside. Her apartment wasn’t large; it had a small living room, an even smaller kitchen, and one bedroom. He’d been there a few times while he and Candy were dating. It was usually spotless, but today it looked cluttered and messy. Boxes of clothes sat on one of the kitchen chairs.
Yvonne saw him looking at the mess. “Donations, for a local charity,” she said, pointing at the shoes and clothes. “Please sit down.”
Yvonne sat on the small sofa. Jack sat in a leather recliner across from her. He patted his jacket, annoyed that he’d forgotten his notepad at the office.
“Are you sure you’re up for this, Yvonne?” he asked. “I could come back maybe in a day or two.”
“Don’t worry about me, Jack. I’m fine.”
Taking a deep breath, Jack started.
“Can you tell me about Candy’s friends?” he asked.
Yvonne smiled. “Candy didn’t have a lot of female friends. Women tended to distrust her, as if they thought she’d steal their man given the chance.” Yvonne smiled. “They may have been right. At any rate, Diana was her only female friend. To my knowledge, anyway.”
“Do you have Diana’s phone number?” asked Jack.
“Yes…it’s in my phone. I’ll give it to you before you leave.”
Yvonne was staring at a picture on the end table. Candy and Diana’s faces were smiling back at her. “She was so young, Jack. Not even thirty.” Her eyes filled with tears.
Jack reached out, placing his hand over hers. “Are you okay? Can you go on?”
Yvonne cleared her throat and seemed to regain her composure. “Sorry. Candy would have called me a big baby for getting all blubbery.”
Jack smiled. “What about her boyfriends?”
“Oh, she had plenty of those,” Yvonne said, laughing.
“Anyone serious?”
“No, I don’t think so. She had a weakness for men in uniform and had loved being surrounded by them. That’s why she loved working at the precinct. She tried to be discreet— at least that’s what she told me. So yes, she dated a lot of guys.” She stopped for a moment, looking away. “There was Mark, of course…and I know she was seeing a few others. Someone named Ryan, I believe.”
“Ryan Gleason?” Jack asked.
“Yes…that’s him.” He watched as Yvonne went into her little kitchen. “Do you want some coffee?”
“No, thanks,” he answered.
Yvonne returned and sat down on the couch again, both hands holding her coffee cup up to her mouth. She didn’t drink from it. “I love the aroma,” she said. “Where were we?”
“Candy’s boyfriends,” Jack reminded her.
“Ah yes. Maybe one of her male friends got jealous of what she had with Mark. Candy wasn’t always as choosy as she should have been.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Jack.
“Some people might have called Candy an opportunist. She would have taken that as a compliment, actually.”
“I don’t understand…”
“If someone could help her,” Yvonne explained, “she didn’t let conventional morals stop her.”
“Help her how?”
“Look, I loved Candy—you know that,” Yvonne said. “But I didn’t always approve of how she lived her life.”
Jack knew Y
vonne wasn’t herself, and probably didn’t even realize she wasn’t being clear. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she wasn’t a lot of help, under the circumstances,
“Can you think of anyone else, besides Mark and Ryan?”
Yvonne hesitated. “I think she might have been seeing her boss, too.”
Jack’s head jerked. “Her boss? Are your sure?”
Yvonne shrugged. “Well, I’m not positive. Something she said made me suspect it, though.”
“And what did she say, exactly?” asked Jack, eagerly.
“Well, it was kind of a joke, really…something about Pike not being a cold fish. But that could have meant nothing, I suppose.”
He made a mental note, putting Pike’s name next to Mark’s and Ryan’s.
“How was Candy when you last saw her? Was she in good spirits? Depressed, or worried about anything?”
“She seemed fine to me. If anything, she seemed happier than usual. She was talking about taking a trip. That maybe we’d go on vacation somewhere together.”
“How about her finances?”
“She always seemed to have money. She never asked to borrow any from me, at least.”
“The newspaper article mentioned the neighborhood she lived in. That’s a pretty upscale area.”
“Well, she made good money with the department.”
“Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm Candy?”
“No, of course not.” Yvonne looked exhausted.
Jack didn’t want to press her any more than he already had. “I guess that’s it for now. You’ve given me a lot to go one.”
Yvonne grabbed an empty envelope off the coffee table and scribbled Diana’s name and phone number. She handed it to Jack, their eyes met.
“You’ll find out who did this, won’t you Jack?”
He stood and met her gaze. “I’ll do my best, Yvonne. I promise.”
***
Jack sat in his car, thinking. Had Candy been involved with Pike, too? If they’d been having an affair and it had gotten out, that would have been bad for the man. He wasn’t married, but he was her boss, not to mention at least fifteen years older than her. And what was all the blather about Candy being unconventional? Jack figured it had been a mistake to visit so soon after Candy’s funeral. The woman wasn’t thinking clearly yet.
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