by M. Z. Kelly
He looked at me. “I’ve got feelers out with every law enforcement agency on the east coast. We hope someone sees Jeffers and we catch a break.”
I reached over and touched his thigh. “I appreciate you doing this for me.”
He squeezed my hand. “Of course.”
After checking into our bed and breakfast, Sam and I had dinner at a seafood restaurant near Boston Commons. When our drinks were delivered, I told him, “Let’s put any discussion of William Jeffers and my mother aside for the rest of our stay.”
We clinked glasses, as Sam said, “Agreed.”
As we ate, Sam, probably just trying to be polite, asked me about my aunt and uncle.
I laughed. “Well, let’s just say that things could be better.” His brows lifted, and I told him about Uncle Marvin’s invention and him losing their life savings.
“A Duckadoo?” Sam said, laughing. “That’s the best name he could come up with?”
“I’m afraid so. I just feel sorry for my aunt. Not only does my uncle father the world’s biggest pervert out of wedlock, he blows every cent they ever made on a sex toy.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m a little surprised your aunt has put up with him all these years.”
I sipped my wine, then said, “She’s a saint, if you ask me. Not only did she raise me, she’s put up with a lot from my uncle.”
He smiled. “On the first issue, I’d say she did a wonderful job.”
“Thank you.” I sighed. “Lately, I haven’t felt like much of a success.” I told him about my assignment to B-Team and patrolling Hunts Point.
“Speaking of your job, how’s the arm?”
“It’s fine. I’ve probably got another week on the beach, then it’s back to work.”
“Then I’d say we need to make the most of your time off.”
We strolled along the Commons and browsed in a couple shops, then went back to the B&B. Our room had a balcony with a patio heater, where we had drinks and kissed. When things started heating up between us, we headed back into the room. Then Sam’s phone rang.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll make this quick.”
I giggled, lying back in bed. “You’d better.”
Sam’s call took more than a minute, so I knew it was serious. When he came back over to me, he explained what was happening.
“There was a murder in New Haven tonight. The alarm company had a closed-circuit security system on the premises. It caught a man breaking into a vacation house overlooking the ocean. The guy probably thought the home was vacant, but there was an elderly woman living there. He slashed her throat and stole her cash and jewelry. They texted me his photograph.”
Sam held his phone up, showing me the photo.
“It’s Jeffers,” I said. “Was he alone?”
He released a breath. A security guard for the alarm company got there as the guy was leaving with a woman. Her image was also caught on camera.”
Sam scrolled through his phone again, and I saw another photograph appear. Images of my mother leaving on the day she abandoned me were forever burned into my consciousness. This woman was much older, but her features were similar. I focused in on her eyes as Sam asked me if she looked familiar.
I looked at Sam, my eyes filling with tears. “It’s my mother.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
“Did you get your cherry re-popped?” Amy asked me the following evening when I came in the door. “I wanna hear all the nasties.”
“Me too,” Max said. “Even though me and Sonny got our own nasty business going on.”
“It’s complicated,” I said with a sigh, as I put down my bags.
Amy looked at Max. “Complicated. That’s the code word for she didn’t do it.” She looked at me. “How the hell could you share a room with Sam and not put a banana in the fruit salad?”
I took a seat on the sofa as they gathered around. “Let me tell you about our meeting with Susan Mitchell, first.”
“If you’re gonna make us wait for it, I’m getting wine.” Amy went over, pulled a bottle of chardonnay out of the fridge, and brought over three glasses. As she poured, she said, “Let’s hear how the party started...and ended.”
I accepted my glass of wine, took a sip, then began. “First of all, Mitchell wasn’t very cooperative, but she did finally admit that she and William Jeffers, or the man she knew as Terrence Barlow, committed some burglaries together. She also told us that Donna Wallace, aka my mom, or, at least, the woman I think could be my mom, was present on a couple occasions when they did the planning. But she said Wallace wasn’t involved in the actual break-ins. Mitchell also said that my mom and Barlow argued a lot over money. She had the impression Barlow owed her money, and when she brought up the subject, he became really angry with her.”
“Maybe Barlow was abusing her,” Max suggested.
“That’s what Sam and I thought.”
“Okay, so we’re back to Sam,” Amy said. “I can’t wait much longer to hear what happened between you two.”
I took another sip of wine. “Sorry, but there’s more to the story.”
Amy sighed. “Gawd, this is like bad foreplay. Go on.”
“Sam and I stayed at a wonderful bed and breakfast in Boston. We had dinner and went for a walk along the Commons. When we got back to the B&B, things started to really heat up between us, if you know what I mean. Then his phone rang.”
“Fuwk.” Amy swigged her wine. “Don’t tell me he got called to duty.”
I shook my head. “The call was from the police department in New Haven, Connecticut. They said William Jeffers was caught on a security camera burglarizing a home overlooking the ocean after he killed an elderly woman who lived there.”
“You’re kidding,” Max said. “Did they catch him?”
“’Fraid not, but they did get an image of him leaving the scene, which they forwarded to Sam, who forwarded it to me.” I showed them the photograph on my phone.
“He looks like a serial killer to me,” Amy said.
Max agreed, adding, “The guy’s a sociopath, with no conscience.”
I went on. “The security camera also caught an image of the woman who was with him. She wasn’t in the residence, but this photograph was taken when they were in the car leaving the place.”
Amy and Max huddled again, examining the photo together.
“Is it your mama?” Max asked me.
“I can’t be a hundred percent sure, since it’s been over two decades since I last saw her. The woman in the photograph is obviously older than the mother I remember, but I think it could be her.”
“You found your mom,” Amy said, hugging me.
I put my phone away. “It looks that way.” I sighed. “And she’s with a serial killer. It might also be that she’s helping Jeffers commit his crimes.”
They were both silent for a moment. Amy said, “I think it’s too soon to draw any conclusions. Hopefully, they’ll catch the bastard and get to the truth about your mom.”
“If Jeffers has been abusing her, it might be that she’s with him under duress,” Max added.
I released another long breath. “Maybe.”
“Okay, we’ve waited long enough,” Amy said. “You and Sam. What the hell happened?”
I smiled, swirled the last of the wine in my glass, and took a sip. “As you can imagine, I was pretty upset after Sam got the call, and I saw the photographs. The truth is, I became a little emotional, and Sam comforted me.”
“And?”
My smile grew wider. “And one thing led to another, and...” I laughed. “I guess you could say we had a wonderful night together.”
“Sam’s a virgin surgeon.”
“What?”
“You lost your shelf virginity!” Amy shouted. “This calls for more wine.” She retrieved a second bottle and began working on the cork.
“Okay,” I said to her. “I’ve come clean. Now it’s your turn. Tell us about your date with Dallas.”
Amy was having
trouble with the opener and handed the bottle to Max. She dragged a hand through her hair and sighed. “The date went fine, until...” She shook her head. “You’re not gonna believe this.”
“Tell us.”
“On the way to dinner, Dallas insisted on us stopping by his mom’s place so I could meet her. When he went off to take a call, I got the third degree from mama the monster. Let’s just say that she didn’t approve of her son marrying someone who’s divorced and works as a PI. She’s got some crazy plan about Dallas moving to Texas, living on a big ranch there, and him taking care of her the rest of her life.”
The cork finally came out of the bottle with a pop as Max said, “You’re telling us Dallas is a big mama’s boy.”
Amy nodded, sighed again. “The biggest mama’s boy and the biggest loser on the planet. He’ll never be able to make a move without mommy dearest watching over him and making all the decisions. It was our first and last date.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
There was more labored breathing on Amy’s part as her head slumped forward. “And I’m also a big loser. Why the hell can’t I find a decent guy and get laid? Is that too much to ask?”
“Seems like a reasonable desire to me,” Max said, pouring us more wine. “You just need to give it some time.”
“I don’t have that much time. I’m not getting any younger. There’s global warming, hurricanes, plagues, locusts, and crazy bastards out there with nuclear weapons.”
Amy went on for several minutes, listing every conceivable calamity she could think of and how it would impact her ability to ever have sex again. During a lull in the pity party, I changed the subject and asked her about Christina Blaze.
“That idiot Mojo called and said he found out about the Robert Cox murder. He also apologized for showing up at our class drunk.”
“Did you forgive him?”
“He might be the biggest dope on the planet, but I told him if he got something good on Christina’s case, I would think about letting him work it only because I need all the help I can get. Christina’s mother also called me last night. She’s crazy with worry. I’m thinking we need to go by there tomorrow and have another chat with her.”
“I’m still on leave, so I’m all yours,” I said, looking at Max.
“Sorry. I’m back on the night shift at the Point tomorrow, so I’m gonna need my rest.” She smiled. “There’s also the issue of Sonny and me not getting much sleep, if you know what I mean.”
“Damn,” Amy whined.
Max went on. “I did talk to Rosie. She hasn’t had any luck tracing that email address you found in Christina’s office.”
“I told Sam about it,” I said. “He thinks he knows someone who can help us out.”
Amy nodded. “Let me know what lover boy comes up with.” She worked on her wine, then changed the subject. “So, what’s the latest with your hospital case?”
“Nothing, as far as I know, but I was thinking we might do some research on Grady Winston, Jessie Walker’s boyfriend, who was murdered.” I looked at Max, raising my brows.
“Rosie said she doesn’t think there’s been much follow-up at the hospital on anything that’s happened. With those two idiot detectives assigned to the case, I think it’s pretty much going nowhere.”
“Going nowhere seems to be going around,” Amy said, feeling sorry for herself again and reaching for her phone. She worked the screen for a couple minutes, then showed us a photo of her. “What do you think?”
Max and I studied the screen, seeing that Amy was posed in a short black dress. She looked hot, in a slutty sort of way.
“It’s nice,” I said.
“Nice? Is that the best you can come up with?” She snatched the phone away.
“You look good,” Max said, trying to sound encouraging. “What’s the picture for?”
“I’m posting it on the GuySwatter website tomorrow.” She took a big gulp of her wine. “No matter what it takes, I’m gonna find me a hunk before the oceans rise and drown my sorry ass, or a fuwking asteroid strikes the earth.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Robert is dead, and it’s because of me.
Christina obsessed over that single thought as she paced around her basement prison. Robert had known about Billy Mercer. She’d told him about Billy and what Jeremy Halsey had done to him after they’d spent the night together. Was that the reason he’d been murdered? Was Jeremy behind everything that was happening?
She mentally sifted through the images of her abductor. The man had dark eyes like Jeremy, but there was nothing else familiar about him. Whoever she was dealing with, Christina was sure of one thing: The man was a killer, and she had no doubt he would eventually kill her. That fact caused something to shift inside her. This was a kill-or-be-killed situation. The man had killed Robert and deserved to be punished. She was determined to no longer be a victim.
As Christina continued to pace around the room, she desperately searched for anything that might be used as a weapon. The room was sparsely furnished, with only a bed and small wooden dresser. The bathroom had a toilet and a shower, but nothing else.
She walked over and collapsed onto the bed, discouraged. As she lay back, she mentally replayed images of her abductor. He was about her size, maybe slightly larger, with a solid build. Maybe if she hit him low, using all her strength, she could overpower him and run up the stairway.
She exhaled, knowing it was just a fantasy. The man always carried his stun gun. She knew it would take only a matter of seconds for him to level it on her and send thousands of volts of electricity surging through her body. Tears welled in her eyes, and she lay back harder on the bed. As her weight shifted, she heard a slight creaking sound.
The bed.
Christina stood and moved quickly, pulling the mattress off the bed and onto the floor. Then she saw the bars. The bed consisted of a wire mesh, with iron bars fastened to the head and footboard. It took her only a matter of minutes to work the bars loose from the frame, then replace the mattress, making it look like the bed was still intact.
Once she had her weapon, Christina had another idea. She stood in the middle of the room and reached up, coming within inches of touching the single overhead lightbulb. She thought about finding something to stand on to remove the bulb. Then she heard the sound: somewhere above her, a door closing.
Her abductor was coming back for her! She knew what she had to do. She held the iron bar over her head, then swung it, smashing and extinguishing the bulb in a single, swift blow. As she hid in the darkened corner of the room, Christina the lioness waited silently for her prey.
TWENTY-NINE
There was a knock on our door the next morning as Amy and I were having breakfast. Amy went over and answered it, finding Thorndike standing there with a bouquet of red roses.
“What’d you do, rob a grave?” Amy said, letting the little man into our apartment.
He scowled at her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“If this is your way of making up for that whack-job you’re married to, forget it. She’s looney tunes.”
Thorndike tottered over and put the flowers on the kitchen table. “These were delivered early this morning.” He cut his dark eyes to me. “They’re for you.”
I checked the card, smiled, and told Amy, “They’re from Sam.”
Amy came over and sniffed the roses. “Damn. You got a...” She lowered her voice. “....a plant pussy.”
I whispered. “What’s that?”
“It’s a thanks-for-the-romp-in-the-hay bouquet.” She looked back at Thorndike, who stood his ground. “What? Don’t tell me you want a tip. You can leave now.”
The little mortician didn’t move. “I also come by to warn you.”
“About what?”
“Dominika. I suggest you stay away from her. She not be liking you.”
“What a surprise.” Amy took a step closer to him. “I suggest you tell her to say away from us. We got every right to be here.”
“You not be understanding. My wife, she...” He took a breath. “...let’s just say, she not be someone to take lightly. Stay away.”
He turned to leave, but stopped at the door and looked back at us. “Have you been seeing my assistants lately?”
“Darryl and Merrill haven’t been around in several days,” I said.
“I be needing their help with the bodies. Tell them that, if you see them.”
When he was gone, I asked Amy, “What do you think he meant about Dominika?”
“I think the little troll’s wife is a lunatic.” Her expression grew serious. “You don’t think she’s planning something, do you?”
“Like what?”
“Kat said she knows potions. Maybe she’s planning to put a spell on me, maybe really turn me into a frog.”
I took her coat off the sofa and tossed it to her. “Let’s go see Christina Blaze’s mother before you want a fly for breakfast.”
***
Effie Blaze lived in Parker Towers in Queens, an upscale high-rise. As we drove, I got a call from Max.
“Rosie called and said she got some background on Jessie Walker’s roommate,” Max said.
“Grady Winston?”
She yawned, giving me the impression she’d just gotten up. “Yeah. According to Rosie, he was a part-time x-ray tech at Mercy Hospital for the past couple years. That’s probably where he and Jessie met.”
“That seems likely.”
“Rosie also found out that Winston had lost his job about six weeks ago.”
“Lost, as in being fired?”
“She wasn’t sure, but thought maybe we should check with the hospital’s HR department.”
“You’re thinking maybe Winston found out about the killings at the hospital, someone had him fired, then decided that both he and Jessie needed to be permanently silenced.”
“That would be my guess.”
I considered that possibility for a moment, then thought about Christina Blaze. “Was Rosie able to get anything on that email address that Amy found in Blaze’s office?”