Scraps of Evidence: Quilts of Love Series

by Barbara Cameron

  Kathy bent over the pad again, scribbling again. “Do you have photos of the clothing the victims of the serial killer wore?”

  Logan showed the note to Tess. “Of course. Why?”

  “They wore blue,” Kathy wrote without answering Tess’s question.

  Tess sat down and researched on her iPhone, flipping through notes and photos. Then she looked up. “I’ve got them,” she said.

  “Let me see,” Kathy wrote.

  Tess held out the phone and watched her aunt study the photos. Then Kathy picked up the pen and pad again. “Not sure. Been years. Need you to go to the shop.”

  Logan touched her hand. “What’s this about, Kathy?”

  “Need you to go to the shop,” she wrote on the pad. “No one can know.” She turned to Tess and gestured for her to open the drawer on the bedside table.

  Tess pulled out her aunt’s purse and handed it to her. Kathy searched in it and produced a key. She handed it to Tess and had her return the purse to the table.

  “Look in the back of the storage closet,” she wrote on the pad. “There’s a bag of scraps from the quilt. Take them to state lab. Top secret. Do DNA.”

  Logan felt a chill. “Whose DNA will we find, Kathy?”

  “I hope I’m wrong,” she wrote. “I think from the women who were killed.”

  Then she leaned down and picked up the quilt and held it out to them.

  “Kathy, you’re not saying you killed these girls?” Logan asked very carefully.

  She shook her head violently, then dropped the pad to clutch her head and moan.

  “Gordon brought her items of clothing to make that quilt,” Tess said slowly. “He said they were from his sisters.”

  Logan stared at Kathy. “You realize what you’re saying? You suspect that Gordon might have killed them?”

  “And Sam?” Tess said. Her hand flew to her mouth. “He might have killed Sam?”

  She stood and swayed. Logan jumped to his feet and put his hands on her arms.

  “I’m okay,” she insisted, but her color was ghastly and her eyes huge, the pupils dilated.

  Then she slapped her hand to her mouth and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Logan followed her and winced when he heard retching.

  “Tess! Let me in.”

  “I’m all right!” she called out.

  When she emerged, she held a damp washcloth to her cheek. “Dry heaves. It was just the shock.”

  She walked over to her chair and picked something up from the floor before she sat.

  “Aunt Kathy, I—I don’t know what to say.”

  She wrote on the pad and held it up. “I hope I’m wrong.”

  Tess checked her watch. “The shop is closing in half an hour. Be best to go after everyone’s gone home, so there are no questions. Since she gave us the key, we don’t have to worry about a search warrant.”

  “Well,” Logan said after a moment. He looked at Tess. “Talk about a stunner. Imagine if you put the pieces together after all this time.”

  Kathy lay back against her pillows, looking spent. She glanced over at Tess and held out her hand. When Tess didn’t understand, she pointed at a piece of fabric that lay on her bed.

  Tess gave it to her aunt, who then handed it to Logan. He stared at the piece of material with an appliqué of a figure of a girl in a silky blue dress. She carried a shawl and walked under trees near the St. Augustine lighthouse.

  “The square just triggered something,” Tess told him. “Then I put it down on the bed while I went to see about Aunt Kathy’s meds and when I came back, I looked at the blue memory quilt. Something clicked. She noticed it, too. Comes from being a cop’s wife, I guess.”

  When Logan handed Tess back the square, she folded it up and tucked it into her tote. Then she went still.

  “Tess? You okay?”

  She made a sound he didn’t understand. He got up and walked over to her, wondering if she was feeling sick again. He picked up the wastepaper basket and brought it to her.

  “Roses,” she said, staring with wide eyes at the dark blooms.

  “Yeah, who threw away perfectly good flowers?” he asked.

  “Gordon brought them for Aunt Kathy,” Tess told him. “She wrote they were ‘doghouse flowers’ and threw them into the trash.”

  She reached into the container and pulled out a rose, wincing and sucking on her finger when a thorn must have pricked her.

  “Red rose,” she said and looked up at Logan.

  “Yes, it’s a red rose,” he said, wondering where this was leading.

  “I found one at the wax museum, remember? Near Machiavelli.”

  He nodded and waited, watching the play of emotions on her face as she processed something. “Remember how Gordon said something about Machiavelli at the barbecue?”

  “I remember. Does this have something to do with the serial killer case?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  She tapped some keys on her iPhone again and bit her lip. “I can’t find anything . . . I just don’t think it’s a coincidence he talked about a prince and it says here that’s Machiavelli’s most famous book. The Prince.”

  “I still don’t get the connection.”

  “There may not be one. But there’s something . . .”

  “Trust your gut,” he said.

  “We still have a little time to kill before we go to the quilt shop. Let’s go by the museum.”

  Logan glanced at Kathy and saw that she was fading, the energy she’d spent trying to communicate taking its toll on top of the surgery the day before. Tess fussed over her, getting a blanket from the closet and tucking it around her shoulders. Neither of the women looked at the quilt lying at the foot of the bed. Kathy was out in minutes. As soon as Tess was sure she was asleep, she bundled the quilt into a plastic bag that held scraps in her tote bag and they left the room.

  Tess stopped at the nurse’s station to say that she’d be back in a while. They rode down in the elevator without speaking. When the doors slid open, Tess pulled out her cell and dialed a number. “I need a sec,” she told Logan. “Claudia? Hi, I need a favor. Can you come sit with Aunt Kathy at the hospital while I take care of some work? I really don’t want to leave her right now. You can? Great! Room 220.”

  “Maybe now you can worry a little less.”

  Tess smiled at Logan. “Maybe.”

  They didn’t talk as they drove to the museum. There, Tess introduced herself and Logan and asked the manager on duty if they could look around.

  “Have you caught whoever broke in that night?” the woman asked Tess.

  She shook her head. “Sorry. There was a witness who said he saw a teenager running from the building and heard the alarm went off. We haven’t had any good leads. I’d just like to take a look again, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure.”

  Tess went straight to the figure of Machiavelli. She stared up into his face as if she hoped he’d say something to her.

  “This the guy you found the rose in front of?” Logan asked her.

  “Yeah. Handsome, isn’t he?”

  Logan shifted and looked at her askance. “I wouldn’t know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels as she studied the figure.

  “High cheekbones. An arrogant air. Dark, mysterious eyes. Bet he was quite a hit with the ladies.” She glanced at him. “Hope I’m not making you jealous,” she said and chuckled.

  “Ah, so you’ve fallen for our Niccolo,” said a guide as she came to stand beside them. “Yes, he had looks, intelligence, and charm. Oh, and wealth and political connections.”

  “You know a lot about him, eh?”

  “I know a little about every one of the figures. His most famous work was The Prince.”

  Tess turned to her. “Give me the Cliffs Notes on that.”

  The woman laughed. “Quick synopsis without reading it, eh? Okay. Well, he was a master manipulator, using his power and influence to adva
nce himself politically. He believed the ends justified the means.”

  That got Logan’s attention. He jerked his head to stare at Tess, and she nodded.

  The guide went on to talk about the life and times of Machiavelli. Logan found his attention drawn to the figure of a woman that stood nearby.

  “So this is what the infamous Lucretia Borgia looked like,” Logan mused. “She was a stunner.” He glanced over at Tess and grinned, teasing her for her admiration of Machiavelli’s looks.

  “A contemporary of Machiavelli,” said the guide. “Historians have implied that she engaged in political intrigue and used a special ring to poison an adversary but nothing was ever proven.”

  “Unless you see the crime committed, you can’t charge the perp,” murmured Tess. She frowned as she leaned closer to look at Machiavelli’s hand. “What happened to his ring finger? Mob hit?”

  The guide laughed. “No, we’ve just had some vandalism through the years. Someone broke off the finger to get the reproduction ring he wore. We’ve had a new hand made for him, and the ring is just wax now. It has a neat symbol on it that reminds me of the lions at the Bridge of Lions. Would you like to see it?”

  Tess glanced at her watch. “We just have a few minutes before we have to be someplace . . .”

  “It’s right over here in my office.”

  He expected an office filled with wax heads and stuff, but it was a normal business office with a desk loaded with books and papers. The guide quickly found the book she was looking for and flipped through the pages. “Here we are.”

  Logan and Tess stared at the image of an elegant M and a lion. It was the same M found on each of the bodies of victims of the serial killer.

  19

  Don’t know how you stood being in that place at night,” Logan said as they got into the car to go to Tess’s aunt’s shop. “It reminded me of that movie. Mystery of the Wax Museum. So creepy. There were these wax figures that seemed to have human eyes following them around.”

  “I know the feeling,” she said dryly.

  “Oh, yeah, guess you did.” He shivered. “Did you get the code for the alarm? Wouldn’t want our fellow officers showing up to see who broke in.”

  “No fear. I got it.”

  Once there, Tess quickly located the supply closet her aunt had mentioned, pulled on plastic gloves, and after a few minutes found the bag of scraps in the rear of it. Logan donned plastic gloves and pulled a sheet of plastic from an evidence bag he’d brought. He spread it out on one of the fabric cutting tables.

  Tess carefully pulled clothing items from the bag, gasping when she found a length of blue satin.

  “What is it?”

  “Sam had this shawl at the prom.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “It was my shawl. My dress. She borrowed it.” She stared, shocked, as tears slipped down her cheeks.

  “Stay with me, Tess. Don’t lose it now.”

  She gulped back her tears, placing each of the clothing items on the plastic, and Logan began taking photos.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked, her voice echoing in the silent shop.

  “Victim two was last seen wearing a blue cotton blouse. Victim four, a jacket of blue and white flowers.”

  “Aunt Kathy said blue was Gordon’s mother’s favorite color.”

  Logan looked at her. “What?”

  “Blue was Gordon’s mother’s favorite color.”

  “Wonder if that’s why he fixated on it. Mother issues.”

  After he’d taken photos, Tess carefully folded each item and put it in an evidence bag.

  “That’s it.”

  Logan nodded, stripped off his gloves, and put the camera back in its case. Tess wrote notes on each of the bags, then reached for a big paper shopping bag and placed the evidence bags inside.

  “Good idea,” he said. “Just in case anyone is outside and wonders about us carrying evidence bags out.”

  Tess glanced around, careful to make sure she’d closed the supply closet, and they hadn’t left any sign they’d been inside the shop. All seemed so normal: there were bolts of fabric, craft kits for purchase, and quilts on the wall. Christmas projects were already on display, inviting customers to make their plans for gifts and get their supplies in time to make them for the upcoming holiday season.

  She set the alarm before they left the shop and locked the front door. “Okay, you have the address of the state lab. Give me a call when you get there. My friend said she’ll keep this top secret and start on it tonight. Oh, and don’t forget to use the name I gave you. We don’t want Gordon finding out.”

  Logan nodded. “Where will you be?”

  “I’m going to go sit with Aunt Kathy. And don’t worry. If I see Gordon, I won’t let anything slip.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  He dropped her off at her house. But before she could get out he pulled her over and gave her a hard kiss. “Promise me you’ll be careful, if he comes around.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I don’t intend on being in the same room with him. Call me when you get back, okay?”

  She got out of the car, watched him back out, and waved before she went into the house. Restless, she fixed a cup of tea and pulled out her phone to study the photos she’d taken, alongside the ones Logan had photographed with the evidence camera.

  They’d need the DNA to prove the clothing had belonged to the victims, but it would take time and she wasn’t sure they had time. Who knew when the killer—whether it was Gordon or someone else—would murder again?

  She had the names, phone numbers, and addresses of the family members of the victims. It took just a few minutes, and she’d set up times she could stop by to talk to three of them. She heard the question in the voices, but simply said she wanted to talk to them. no one refused her. Everyone wanted justice for their loved one.

  One by one she received positive identification of a clothing item from a victim’s relative.

  “I can’t tell you anything more,” she said repeatedly. “And I need your promise you won’t say a word to anyone. Not anyone, not another relative, not a spouse, or significant other,” she emphasized. “We don’t want the case compromised.”

  “But you have a suspect at last,” Thad Masters said, sighing heavily.

  Tess felt such a surge of sympathy for the man. He’d aged so much since his daughter’s murder.

  She touched his arm. “Promise me.”

  “No one will hear it from my lips.”

  Tess drove on to the hospital, stopping to get a takeout meal for herself and a milkshake for her aunt. She wasn’t sure if Aunt Kathy could drink it with her wired jaw, but figured she’d ask a nurse when she got there.

  “Well, hey, Tess, how are you?”

  She jumped, then turned to see Pam, the chief’s wife, walking toward her.

  “You okay, honey? Seem kind of edgy.”

  Tess managed a laugh. “I’m fine. How’s Jeremy?” Pam frowned. “It’s the weirdest thing. Doctor said the blood work showed his potassium is way, way above normal.”

  They walked into the hospital lobby, and Pam pressed the elevator button.

  “I thought we needed potassium,” Tess said, trying to remember what she’d read about it.

  “Apparently it can be a poison,” Pam said as they stepped into the elevator. “If you get too much it can cause a heart attack. He’s still not out of danger, but at least we know now what was making him sick. And maybe we can figure out how he came to have too much of it in his system.”

  Pam glanced at the food in Tess’s hands. “Who are you here to see?”

  “Aunt Kathy.”

  “Oh, that’s right, Jeremy told me she lost her balance and fell.” When Tess didn’t respond, Pam looked at her. “Did I get that wrong?”

  Tess felt put between a rock and a hard place. “I’m not sure. All I know is she had to have her jaw wired.”

  “Poor thing. I’ll
stop and see her after I see Jeremy. Listen, why don’t you stop up for just a minute and say hi? Jeremy’s feeling pretty low since he’s been out of work for a week and all.”

  She was starving, her aunt’s milkshake was melting, but who turned down a request from the boss’s wife? “Sure. I’d love to.”

  The chief didn’t look as happy as his wife had said he’d be when he saw Tess. Then she saw it wasn’t her he was looking away from, but his wife. He tried to hide a cup of coffee from a local coffee house, but there was nowhere to put it.

  “Busted,” said his wife. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “You know you’re not allowed to have that for a while. Who brought it to you?”

  “No one,” he said. “Hi, Tess.”

  “Hi.” She told herself it wasn’t very nice of her to enjoy seeing him looking a little intimidated by his angry wife.

  “Give it to me,” Pam said, walking over to hold out her hand.

  “Aw, it’s just a little coffee,” he protested. “And think about how much it cost him.”

  “Him?” She looked at Tess, then her husband. “This smells like one of your work buddies.”

  “So, Tess, how is Kathy doing?”

  It was an obvious attempt to change the subject, but Tess grabbed onto it, seeing it as a way to get out of the room. She held up the milkshake. “She’s doing pretty well, but I’m taking this to her now since she can’t eat regular food yet with her jaw wired.”

  “Well, tell her we hope she’s feeling better real soon.”

  “Hope you do, too.” Tess turned to leave. She stopped at the door. Should she tell him what she and Logan suspected? But they had no real proof yet. It was a big accusation she had no way of backing up.

  “Tess?”

  She turned around. “Nothing. I’ll tell Gordon not to get you any more coffee.”

  “Aw, now, don’t be getting him into trouble,” Jeremy said. “I asked him—” he stopped and shut his mouth when Pam gave him a look.

  If he only knew what she and Logan had been up to that afternoon . . .

  Claudia had promised that she’d stay until Tess returned to the hospital. Gordon had acted like he would be too busy to visit again that day. But if Jeremy was sipping coffee did that mean that Gordon had come back?