Under the Moonlight collection

by MaryAnn Kempher

  Jack smiled. “Sorry…I got a late start this morning. Then I met Diana, Candy’s friend.”

  “Oh yeah, how’d that go?”

  Jack poured some coffee and sat down. He rubbed his eyes. “Not great,” he answered. “She didn’t have much to tell me. But between Diana’s description and Yvonne’s, Candy’s not coming off so good.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Granted Yvonne wasn’t really herself, I talked to her yesterday, and Diana—well, I’m not so sure she was as good a friend to Candy as we thought. They both said more or less the same thing, that Candy had a lot of male friends…boyfriends. That maybe one of them got wind of the others and wasn’t too happy about it.” Jack began taking the crime scene photos out of the envelope.

  “Have to say,” said Curt, “that doesn’t surprise me much. She was pretty friendly with me at the party.”

  Jack paused. “How friendly?”

  Curt smiled. “Not that friendly. She was an attractive woman, and if she’d given me any real encouragement, I’d probably have been all over her. But she was more of a flirt than anything.”

  “And what did you think of her friend?”

  “I didn’t talk to her for long, it’s not fair for me to say, really.”

  “Come on, Curt,” Jack encouraged him. “You’re a good judge of character. How did she strike you?”

  “A little cold, to be honest. I tried to be friendly, but sometimes there’s just no chemistry. That’s how it was. We talked…she was polite, nice enough, but we didn’t click. You know what I mean.”

  Jack looked out the window, trying to remember his first impression of Diana. It was hard. She’d been with Candy, and Candy was a lightning rod. When she was around, all eyes focused on her.

  “How did she strike you?” Curt asked.

  “She was young, and she talked young.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well jeez, Candy’s only been dead a week, and they were supposed to be good friends, but she called her a slut…she said that’s how they always talked to each other.”

  Curt chuckled. “Well, maybe it’s true. You and I, we’re nearly a decade older than those two women. Maybe it is the way they talk nowadays.”

  “I guess,” said Jack, but he didn’t look convinced. “Diana said something about Mark, too…that he seemed obsessed with Candy. That actually jibes pretty well with my own impression of him. He gets attached pretty easily.” He pulled a sheet of paper out of the envelope.

  “What’s that?” Curt asked.

  “Oh, just the log, it’s started by the first on-scene cop. It lists everyone who comes and goes in and out of a crime scene. Pretty standard.” He set it aside. “And these,” he said, “are the crime scene photos.”

  Curt could see that the envelope was thick, even after Jack had taken quite a few out. “So many?”

  “Yeah, this is typical. Dozens of pictures—every room, every angle.”

  Curt stood behind Jack’s chair, watching over his shoulder. The pictures led from left to right, starting with the kitchen and moving to the living room, then the bedroom and the closets.

  “What do you see?” Jack asked.

  “A mess,” Curt answered.

  “Every scene crime is different in its own way…but they’re all similar, too. Generally speaking, a messy crime scene suggests a male perp, while a neater one suggests a female. Many times, women try to clean up after themselves. But men flee. They just want to get the hell out of there.”

  Jack pointed at a photo. “Looks like they might have struggled in the living room and then somehow ended up in the kitchen. Or the killer was looking for something.” Jack touched a photo with the tip of his finger. “This says something, too.” He was pointing at Candy’s body.

  “I don’t understand,” said Curt.

  “She was killed in the kitchen, but set on the couch, a blanket placed over her body. I think there’s a good chance she knew her killer, and that really bothers me.” Jack studied the photos more. “Random killings are actually pretty rare. Ninety-nine percent of the homicides I’ve worked were committed by the boyfriend or the husband…and Candy only dated cops. If Mark didn’t kill her, some other cop probably did.”

  Curt reached down and picked up a close up of Candy. “Damn shame,” he said.

  “Yeah.” Jack picked up a photo and peered closely. “She might have been expecting company.”

  “How can you tell?” asked Curt.

  “There are two glasses on the kitchen counter, and a bottle of soda.”

  “Hmm...”

  “But who?”

  “Hey,” Curt said, “wasn’t she at the party with that Ryan guy, too?”

  “I don’t know if they were really there together, but I remember him putting his arm around her. Diana mentioned something about him, too.”

  Jack stood.

  “You going to talk to him now?” Curt asked.

  “Gonna try to.”

  “I might not be here when you get back. I’m going to go see Daisy.”

  “Any leads?”

  “No…nothing.”

  “So this visit, will it be for pleasure, then?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what happened to her birds, but whatever it was, I’m glad it did.”

  Jack laughed. “Are you two dating now?”

  Curt shrugged. “I don’t know…I guess. I mean we’ve had lunch a few times, and that dinner. I met her uncle this weekend.”

  “Sounds serious,” Jack teased. “What was he like?”

  “Nice enough. He has the whole absent-minded professor way about him.”

  Jack laughed.

  “All right,” said Jack as he left. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

  ***

  Jack crossed the hall and poked his head into the candy shop, Nene and Gaga were behind the counter. Nene was eating a celery stick.

  “Ladies,” he said.

  “Oh, hello Jack,” said Nene. “How are you today?”

  “Just fine—and you?”

  “We’re great! We took your advice.”

  “You invested in a video camera?”

  “Yes,” said Gaga, answering for Nene. “Three of them. But they were a waste of money. There’s nothing on them.”

  “Well, it was only one night,” said Nene. “Whoever is coming into the store—”

  “You mean breaking into the store,” interrupted Gaga.

  “Whoever it is was, they were just here Saturday; they don’t come into the store every night.”

  “Just keep putting the camera out,” said Jack. “You’re bound to get lucky sooner or later.”

  “Jack?” Nene said. “Has Mr. Burch talked to you about leaving?”

  “Yes,” Jack answered. “We told him we’d think about it, but we don’t want to move.”

  “He called earlier, coughing like he was on his death bed. He tried to sweet talk us into leaving, too. He’s actually started offering money. We don’t want to leave either, but it is tempting. Remember I mentioned the mayor’s assistant stopping by?”

  “Yes?”

  “She stopped by again. This time, she told us a donut shop is opening nearby, and a discount store that sells cheap candy. Without coming right out and saying it, she kind of hinted that we should leave.”

  “I know the city has offered Burch good money for the building,” Jack said, “probably more than it’s worth. But I don’t know why that woman would care one way or another if you stayed or not. At any rate, don’t let anyone pressure you. This is your decision. I need to get going. Goodbye ladies.”

  Gaga grunted. Nene smiled for them both. “Bye Jack,” she chimed.

  ***

  Jack couldn’t help thinking as he walked into Starbucks for the second time that day that maybe he should buy stock in the coffee shop. He was starting to spend as much time there as Katherine, and she’d always been teased about her love of the place. However, it made sense to meet Ryan Gleas
on there; it was near the police department, and Ryan was giving up his lunch hour to meet with Jack.

  Ryan was already seated at a corner table when he arrived. He looked like he was sitting in a child’s chair. He stood as Jack approached. Jack unconsciously took a step backwards.

  “Hey, buddy,” said Ryan as they shook hands.

  “Hey, Ryan. Listen, thanks for agreeing to see me. I know this is unusual.”

  Ryan looked serious. “It is a little strange, so tread lightly, my friend. Even though you’re an ex-cop, there are a lot of people who won’t appreciate you involving yourself in this investigation.”

  “I can’t help how a lot of people feel,” said Jack, “and I’m not looking to step on anyone’s toes. But like you said, I am an ex-cop. I know how busy the men who investigated this case are. I just want to make sure the right guy is sitting in that jail cell.”

  “Mark Barnes,” said Ryan contemptuously. “He’s lucky to be in that cell. If he wasn’t, I’d have kicked his ass by now.”

  “So you really think he did this?”

  Ryan nodded. “I saw him looking at her. All night long I watched him watch her. And I know they argued outside the club, they weren’t exactly quiet.”

  “You were pretty attentive toward Candy yourself. What was your relationship with her?”

  “We were seeing each other, casually,” answered Ryan through tight lips. “Nothing too serious.”

  “Did you see her that night?”

  “You know I did, at the party.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  Ryan looked away. Jack wondered if he was trying to keep his well-known temper under control.

  “No,” Ryan said finally. “I didn’t see her again that night. She left, I followed. I saw her and Mark argue, then she left, alone. She’d made it clear that she did not want me to come over, so I didn’t.”

  Jack thought about what Mark had said—that he’d seen a big man arrive at Candy’s home, but he’d been too far away and it had been too dark for him to positively identify the man. That was unfortunate for Mark. Jack wondered if Ryan was lying now. Ryan had never struck Jack as a man who took the word no easily.

  Ryan stood. “I have to get back to work Jack. You want some advice?”

  “Sure.”

  “Stay out of this. Walk away. If you don’t, things could get difficult for you.”

  Jack stood. He raised himself up to his full height. Was Ryan threatening him? Jack knew the things big and small that the police could do to make someone’s life uncomfortable. However, this was the first time he’d ever had such a thinly veiled threat from another cop.

  “Oh, come on, Ryan. You saw how fast Mark was arrested. To me, that says it was a rushed case.”

  “To me, it says Mark’s a murderer, and a sloppy one at that. That’s why he got caught.” His brow creased. “Personally, I hope they fry the bastard.”

  ***

  Jack sat in his car thinking over his meeting with Ryan. He sighed as he dialed Sergeant Pike’s office. A woman answered.

  They hadn’t wasted any time replacing Candy.

  Jack was told Pike had a two o’clock appointment, but that Jack could be squeezed in if he could come over right away. Five minutes later, Jack was parked and walking down the familiar halls of the Reno Police department. A few cops said hello; some just waved. Though it hadn’t been that long since Jack left the force, it felt odd, as if he didn’t belong there anymore.

  Sergeant Pike was standing behind a desk when his new assistant lead Jack into the office. “Jack,” he said. “It’s real nice to see you. I was pleasantly surprised when my secretary told me you were coming. What can I do for you?”

  Jack walked over, the men shook hands, and Pike pointed at a chair. “Have a seat.”

  “Sir, I want to say how sorry I am about Candy.”

  “Thank you, Jack, that’s kind of you,” Pike said, “but you didn’t come over just to offer your condolences…did you?”

  “No sir. Candy’s mother has asked me to investigate the murder.”

  Pike sat back in his chair. He seemed calm, but Jack had dealt with the man before and knew the signs of an impending explosion. Ex-cop or not, Jack was now an outsider. He knew his involvement would be looked upon as an insult, at least to some, as if he or the victim’s family were implying the police hadn’t done their job. He was quick to try to reassure Pike that it wasn’t the case.

  “It’s just a favor to Candy’s mother, sir. I’m not trying to make the department look bad. I just want to do a little investigating, so I can tell Mrs. Dashwood you guys have her daughter’s killer in custody.”

  “Look,” Pike said, “we all like Mark around here, but it’s not looking good for him. One of Candy’s neighbors came forward. She said she’d seen a man matching Mark’s description near her house that night. A rape kit was performed on Candy; she had Mark’s DNA in her, and everyone knows they fought that night. I’m telling you more than I should, because I want you to know we’ve done it right. You go tell Candy’s family we got the right guy. Justice will be served.”

  Jack couldn’t agree. “I’m not as convinced as you are, sir. I spoke to Mark; he says he didn’t do it. I’m inclined to believe him.”

  Pike rose and walked to the office door, opening it wide. Jack stood, taking the hint.

  Pike leaned toward Jack on his way out, lowering his voice as he spoke. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, Jack. Candy’s dead, and that’s a shame...but her killer is behind bars. You’re wasting your time. You really don’t want to piss people off by digging any further.”

  “Which people?”

  Pike’s mouth tightened. “People,” he answered.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tuesday morning, the Albright sisters had just opened the store when the phone rang in the back office. Gaga was busy recreating her gingerbread house while Nene read a popular entertainment magazine. She went to answer it and returned with a worried look on her face.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Gaga. “Your stomach bothering you again? You need more fiber.”

  “No,” answered Nene. “That was Lila. You know…my friend who works at the health department?”

  “She doesn’t cut hair anymore?” Gaga asked.

  Lila was Nene’s old hair stylist. As she got older, her clients started dying, robbing her of much needed gossip. So she’d taken a part time job at the health department, guaranteeing her juicy gossip about every restaurant and their bug and/or rodent problems. Happily for her, her desk was situated near a bank of phones used primarily to receive anonymous phone calls to the tip line. Occasionally, she would answer these calls. On this particular day, her ears had perked upon hearing the familiar name of an establishment that was rumored to have a huge roach problem.

  “No, she works at the health department now. She said we’re going to be inspected, but she doesn’t know when.”

  “We’ve been here all these years and never had a problem,” Gaga said. “Why now?”

  “I don’t know,” said Nene. “She said that they’d received a phone call. A tip. Just to be on the safe side, I think we should make this place spotless.”

  Gaga turned toward the back office, where the cleaning supplies were, but Nene didn’t budge.

  “Is there something else?” Gaga asked.

  “Lila said the strangest thing. She said the caller had such a terrible cough. She’d joked that she’d almost been afraid she’d get sick just by talking to him on the phone. You don’t think Mr. Burch…”

  “I sure do think that’s something he’d stoop to. That greedy little weasel. Well, we’re just going to have to make sure they can’t find anything to write us up about. Let’s get cleaning.”

  Gaga picked up the gingerbread house and walked it into the back office. She came back holding some glass spray and paper towels. Nene had grabbed a broom and begun sweeping the floor. She dragged the broom under the dis
play case and reached into far corners, surprised at all the hidden dirt. While it wasn’t exactly filthy, she was beginning to realize that the store was long overdue for a thorough cleaning.

  “’Scuse me,” she said to Gaga as she swept behind the display case.

  Gaga was trying to clean the display case glass. “Do you mind?” Gaga said.

  “Well, I have to sweep back here, too,” Nene told her.

  Gaga rolled her eyes and stepped aside. Nene bent down a little, shoving the broom well under the case. She reached down and picked up an envelope that had the mayor’s seal on the back.

  “Look at this!” Nene said. “It was under the counter.”

  Gaga shook her head. “You and the lost mail…this is what happens when you don’t open it right away.” She took the envelope from Nene and tore it open. “It’s an offer from the city.”

  “What kind of offer?” Nene asked.

  “They’re offering us money to relocate. They want to use this building for a new visitor’s center.”

  “How much are they offering?”

  Gaga tore the letter in half and tossed it into a trash can. “Not enough.”

  Nene sighed and gathered all the dirt into a little pile. Gaga was younger by three years and slimmer by forty pounds, so she crouched down and held the dust pan for Nene.

  They both looked toward the door, startled by the high pitched sounds of Mr. Bryan’s dog Boris.

  “Yep! Yep! Yep!” he barked.

  “Jeez!” Gaga said. “Give that dog some coffee so he’ll calm down.”

  Mr. Bryan soon followed behind Boris.

  “Mr. Bryan,” said Gaga. “You need to control Boris. Unless he’s a service dog, he can’t come into the store. It’s a health code violation.”

  Mr. Bryan scowled. “Boris is cleaner than most people.” He reached down and scooped up his dog. “Aren’t you fella? Besides, he thinks he’s welcome here…why else would you have a doggy door?”

  Nene and Gaga looked down at the small flap on the front door. Mr. Bryan had a point.

  “I’d like one of them there brownies,” Mr. Bryan said, pointing at the case. Nene walked behind the counter and made certain to wash her hands in the small sink. Then, using a piece of tissue paper, she placed a brownie into a small white bag. Mr. Bryan slapped two dollars onto the counter, grabbed his bag and walked out.