Under the Moonlight collection

by MaryAnn Kempher

  Jack told him what had happened at the stake out, and that Pike had likely seen him driving away.

  “Shit,” Curt said.

  “Yeah. If I find out Pike had something to do with this…” He didn’t want to think about what would happen. There was too much to focus on now. “I’m going to go back to the office,” he said. “I want to go over my notes again, if the crime scene folks are finished. What happened to Ms. Albright is my fault. I have to do something about it.”

  “You go,” Curt said. “Do whatever you have to. I’m going to wait here. When she’s ready to leave, I’ll drive Ms. Albright back.”

  Jack was halfway to his car when his phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Jack, we should meet.” It was Pike.

  Jack felt his blood pressure spike. “You’re damn right we should.”

  ***

  They agreed to meet at a diner, Jack arrived first. Pike sat down quietly.

  “Pretty sure I saw you hanging around outside my house last night, Jack.”

  Jack smirked. “Right to the point, I like that”

  “Was it you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You were once a good cop, Jack”

  Jack gritted his teeth. “So were you.”

  Pike’s eyes narrowed at the insult. He fired back. “I hear you have a mess to clean up at your little detective agency.”

  Jack worked to control his temper. “A woman is in the hospital because of that break-in,” he said, his voice barely audible. “If I find any connection between you and what happened at my office, or what happened to Nene Albright…or Candy’s murder…I will crush you. Do you understand?”

  Pike seemed to pale at the mention of Candy’s name, but he quickly regained his composure. “You don’t have anything, and you don’t know anything.”

  On the way over, Jack had thought about what he’d say to Pike, and what he’d let on that he suspected. He decided to do a little fishing. “I know you were supposed to see Candy the night she was murdered.”

  Pike’s smirk broke. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I see Candy?”

  “Maybe because she was blackmailing you. Maybe because you thought you needed to take care of her…to keep her quiet, by whatever means necessary.”

  Pike clenched his jaw. “You are way over your head here Jack.”

  “Am I?”

  Pike abruptly stood. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from my house and keep your nose out of my business. You don’t want to know how ugly it could get for you if you don’t.” He stalked out of the diner.

  Jack knew he’d hit a nerve. Judging by Pike’s reaction, Candy actually had been blackmailing him. But what did she know that would drive him to murder her in order to keep it from getting out, if he was in fact the killer?

  Jack left the diner and drove home on auto-pilot. Pike was right. What did he have? Nothing that would hold up in an actual criminal case. Instinct told him the man was dirty, but he had no proof.

  Maybe he wouldn’t solve this case. Maybe Mark would fry for something Jack didn’t think he’d done.

  And if his digging had cost Ms. Albright her life, Jack would never be able to forgive himself.

  ***

  As soon as Pike got into his car, his cell phone rang.

  “What?” he said angrily.

  “I’m freaking out,” said the voice on the other end. “I don’t know what to do…I didn’t sign on for murder.”

  “Calm down,” Pike insisted.

  “This has gotten way out of control.”

  “You’re panicking again,” said Pike.

  “Hell yeah, I’m panicking...things just keep getting deeper and deeper.”

  “Listen,” said Pike. “I’m the only person alive who knows what we’ve been doing, and I’m not going to talk. This new development? Well, that was unfortunate…but it’s done now. The best thing for us to do is keep calm and just behave normally. Stop panicking. Panic makes for stupid decisions and reckless behavior.”

  The voice relaxed, breathed deeply and slowly regained composure. “You’re right…absolutely right. I’m sorry. I just needed some reassurance, that’s all.”

  Pike hesitated. “Listen, I’ll be over in a few minutes, okay? We’ll talk. Remember, no more panic:

  The voice exhaled again. “Right. No panic.”

  ***

  Instead of going back to the office, Jack drove back to his apartment. He turned his television on, grabbed a beer, and sat on the couch with Candy’s seat bag next to him. The bag wasn’t big, it wouldn’t hold much. One by one, he pulled the items out. Lipstick, a key, a mail receipt, and an energy bar. Jack shook his head in disgust. This was all he had to go on.

  Dammit!

  He looked at the key, turning it over in his hand.

  A locker…or a safe deposit box, maybe? Could there be something helpful inside? He picked up his notepad and flipped to an empty page, listing out the facts:

  Candy was likely blackmailing someone. She’d tried to do it before.

  Candy’s body was placed on the couch, covered with a blanket. Whore was written across her forehead. Did she know her killer?

  Snow globe that had been on floor put back on the fireplace mantle. Killer may have returned to scene after police left.

  A picture of Candy is missing. Did it have anything to do with her death?

  Suspect Pike was supposed to see her that night. Pike’s behavior is suspicious, especially after blackmail is mentioned.

  A footprint outside her kitchen door. Could belong to killer.

  Jack looked at his list with disgust. Nothing. He had nothing. Just a bunch of scraps that led nowhere and didn’t connect up.

  He picked up the remote, clicked on the television, and turned up the volume. There was old footage of the press conference that had happened just up the street from there office. Mayor Wallace was talking about the city’s plans to revitalize the area. Jack sat forward, his elbows on his knees.

  In the background stood Pike—not unexpectedly, since he was on the mayor’s security team. But it wasn’t Pike that held Jack’s attention…it was the woman who stood beside him. She was beautiful, and familiar. Below the frame, she was identified as the mayor’s assistant, Elaine Monroe.

  Jack recognized her as the woman he’d seen with Pike during his stake-out.

  ***

  Curt slowly walked Ms. Albright up the stairs. She handed him the keys, and he opened the door for her. It was just how he imagined it would be inside: Neat and clean, filled with antique furniture and flooded with photographs. It smelled of apple and cinnamon.

  A small but beautifully-decorated Christmas tree stood in one corner. From the wall on his left, Nene Albright smiled out of a silver frame. She was young, maybe twenty. She’d been a beautiful woman. Gaga smiled from another picture. Curt was surprised by this. It was odd to see Gaga Albright smiling.

  “Ms. Albright?”

  Gaga had set her purse on the kitchen table and sat down. “Yes?”

  “Is Gaga short for something?”

  “Yes…it’s short for Gloria.”

  “Oh, and Nene?”

  “Nene’s real name is Geraldine.” Her voice was small and weak. She sounded exhausted. For the first time, Curt really looked at Gaga Albright. It was easy to forget she was not a young woman.

  “Will you be okay here by yourself? I can stay if you need me to. I really don’t mind.”

  “No, that’s fine…thank you. I have to start making phone calls, to let the family know what’s happened.”

  Curt walked to the table and rested his hand on her shoulder, trying to imagine how hard it must be for her. “I’m very sorry, Ms. Albright.”

  Gaga looked up at Curt. His eyes held tears.

  She swallowed hard. “I always thought I’d be the first to go.”

  ***

  Curt spent a while longer with Gloria Albright before he left. He worried that if he staye
d too long, he’d end up saying something stupid or insensitive and making her feel worse. But he knew he’d stop by again later, just to make sure she was still okay.

  Once downstairs, he found a note on the office door from Nolan: All clear. You can go back inside.

  He opened the door and began picking up the items on the floor—pens, pencils, the chairs, the picture frames. His desk was nearest the light switch…he wondered if Nene had been walking that way when she’d been hit. There was blood on the floor nearby. He hated to think of her lying there, bleeding, with nobody coming to find her until it was likely too late.

  Curt’s desk was slightly crooked, so he set it straight. Near the end of the desk, lying on the floor near the blood-stained carpet, was a watch. It didn’t look like something Jack would wear. “Could’ve fallen out of the drawer, though,” he mused. He put it on the desk, just as his cell phone began ringing. He smiled when he saw the number on the screen.

  “Hi, Daisy. How’s it going?” Just the thought of her was enough to take away the pain of what had happened to Ms. Albright, if only for a moment.

  “Hi Curt…I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night. You must think my family is completely crazy, using a monkey to steal birds…”

  Curt laughed. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “No more than most families. I wish my family had a monkey.”

  Daisy laughed. “Are you busy? I was hoping we could have lunch.”

  He looked around at the rest of the mess. It wasn’t going anywhere. And he could use the cheer-up of being in her store, surrounded by her animals. And by her, too.

  “I’ll be right over.”

  ***

  Jack picked up the envelope Yvonne had given him…the one with Diana’s number on it. Maybe it was time to give Candy’s friend another call.

  She picked up on the third ring.

  “Ms. Macy?”

  “Yes?” Diana said.

  “This is Jack Harney. We spoke a week or so ago regarding your friend Candy. Sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind letting me pick your brain a little more?”

  “I, uh…” She sounded hesitant, and Jack didn’t blame her. “Of course, detective. Whatever I can do to help. When would you like to get together?”

  “Are you free now? I can come to you.”

  “My…uh…my place is a mess, and I…it would be better if we met somewhere else.”

  Jack wondered how much Diana might know about the Pike situation, and if there was another reason she didn’t want him coming to her house.

  “I can be there in just a few minutes.”

  Diana sighed. “All right I guess…if you must.” She gave him her address.”

  “Great,” Jack said. “I’ll be there shortly.”

  ***

  Diana lived on the third floor of a three-story, red brick building, about a mile from Jack’s apartment. He climbed the stairs, cursing his knees as he went. When he knocked, she opened the door quickly.

  “Sorry for the intrusion,” he told her.

  She gave a weak smile and invited him in. “No problem.” He looked around. The space was nothing expensive, just a basic apartment, clean and sensible.

  “Have you lived here long?” he asked.

  “Since last June,” she answered, laughing. “You’re noticing I don’t have the knack for decorating that some women have, aren’t you?”

  Jack blushed. “No, it’s just….”

  “I don’t spend a lot of time here. I’m training for a triathlon.”

  Jack looked around the space as he followed Diana to the kitchen, stopping at her window. She had a nice view of a nearby park. There was a small desk against the sill; one of the drawers was half open and he could easily see it was filled with junk—bills that had piled up, scraps of papers and a tons of pictures. He slid it open and saw images of Candy’s familiar face. She and Diana were at the beach in one, and shopping at the mall in another. He chuckled, realizing he had a drawer just like this in his kitchen.

  Diana guided him to the living room. “Please, sit.”

  He noticed the irritation in her voice. “I hope this doesn’t sound too crazy,” he said, “but you remind me of Candy’s mother.” Diana’s eyes widened at his comment. “What I mean,” he jumped in to explain, “is that your hairstyle resembles hers. Short and blonde. Only she wears her spiked.”

  Diana laughed. “I’ve had short hair for as long as I can remember. It’s so much easier to maintain. I can see why she’d like it, too.”

  Jack pulled out his notebook.

  “I’ll be straight with you Ms. Macy. I’m not making a lot of progress with the investigation into your friend’s murder. I was wondering—hoping, really—that you might have thought of or remembered something that I could use?”

  “I’ve been trying,” Diana said sadly. “Yvonne mentioned you’d been allowed into the crime scene.”

  “Yes, but that wasn’t much help.” He held back telling her about the notepad, and the impression he’d taken of the blackmail note. “You said during our last talk that she was seeing Mark and Ryan at the same time. Do you happen to know if she was also seeing a man named Christopher Pike?”

  Diana looked pensive. “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t say that she was dating him. We were very close, but she didn’t always confide in me about the men she was seeing.”

  Jack’s interest was piqued. “Why do you think that would be?”

  Diana shrugged. “I’m going to sound like such a puritan here, but…I didn’t like how she played sometimes. Usually when we went to a bar or a club together, she’d end up taking off and leaving me on my own so she could hook up with whoever she was interested in. I hated that. So we just agreed not to talk about the guys she slept with.”

  This didn’t line up with what she’d said the last time Jack had spoken to her. “What about the night of the party? I thought you said she’d hooked up with someone…”

  Diana’s eyes sparked a touch of anger. “Oh yeah…she couldn’t resist telling me about her encounter with Mark in the utility closet. She dated such losers.”

  Jack wasn’t sure he agreed with her assessment of Mark. “You didn’t like Mark?”

  “I didn’t care much for any of the guys she dated. Candy had a lot to offer, and I think she wasted it on guys not nearly good enough for her.”

  Jack wondered if Diana had known Candy as well as she thought she had. He stood. “Oh well. If you happen to think of anything else.”

  He and Diana walked toward the door, Jack’s foot caught on a box on the floor.

  “Sorry,” said Diana, pushing the box out of the way. “Been doing some cleaning. I’m sorry I couldn’t help out more.”

  “Thank you for your time,” said Jack.

  ***

  Jack drove back to his apartment. Inside, he sighed and flopped down on his couch. He thought about everything that had happened and all he knew so far. There wasn’t anything concrete to point him to a single suspect…which meant that Mark was going to stay where he was.

  And then, there was Nene.

  He called Curt for an update. “Any news on Ms. Albright?” he asked.

  “I went back to the hospital and saw her for a minute,” Curt told him. “She’s still not awake, but I think her face has more color.”

  Jack sighed. “That’s a good sign.”

  “Yeah…I thought so, too,” Curt said. “What’s going on with you? Any new leads on the murder?”

  “Nah. I talked to Candy’s friend Diana again…nothing new to report. I’ll be back to the office later.”

  Jack hung up. He picked up Candy’s bag. One by one, he took out the items again and laid each on the kitchen table.

  A lipstick…a key…a mail receipt…an energy bar.

  He looked closely at the key. It seemed too big to belong to a safety deposit box. It could have been to her front door, but that didn’t seem likely; she’d have carried it with her if so. Maybe a spare
to her office?

  He looked again the mail receipt. It was for certified mail.

  His thoughts drifted to Nene Albright again, and to Mark sitting in a jail cell. He felt responsible for her being in the hospital, and he felt like he was letting Mark down. His eyes settled on the envelope that held Diana’s phone number…then they slid back to the mail receipt from Candy’s bike bag.

  His heart began to beat faster. He leaned forward, grabbing the envelope and jumping up. Jack rushed to the kitchen table, for better light.

  The receipt that had been in Candy’s bag was one half of a receipt set. And the other half appeared to be affixed to the envelope Yvonne had written Diana’s number on. The return address was Candy’s home.

  What had she sent her mother, and why had she sent it?

  ***

  Soon, he was knocking on Yvonne’s apartment door. “Jack,” she said as she answered. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can I come in, please?”

  Yvonne opened the door wide. “Of course.”

  Jack rushed in and held out the receipt from in Candy’s bag along with the envelope. “Yvonne, did Candy send you something through registered mail recently?”

  “She did. It came a few days after her death. I was very surprised and excited. I thought it would be something I might be able to treasure.” Yvonne’s lip trembled. “It looked like work-related stuff instead. Nothing I understood, and of course, once I realized it wasn’t anything sentimental, I didn’t give it another thought.”

  “Would you mind if I took a look at it?”

  “Sure.”

  Jack looked around, thinking it hadn’t taken Yvonne long to clean up the mess her intruder had made. Everything seemed to be in its place again.

  She walked to the desk in the living room and started rummaging through a drawer. “I thought I’d put it in here when I cleaned things up…or maybe I did that when it first arrived. I’m sorry, I’ve been so absentminded lately.” She slammed one drawer shut and opened another, but found nothing. “It has to be around here somewhere,” she said.