by J A Whiting
“Not to me, she didn’t.” Molly sipped from her beer glass and set it down with a faraway look on her face. “A couple of days after being out with us, Jill was dead. Who’d ever believe that?”
Carleen, the swim instructor, leaned forward across the table. “That’s why I’m thinking about moving away. Better safe than sorry.”
“Carleen was out with us that night,” Molly said. “We were all in a state of shock when we heard.”
Shelly turned her attention to the broad-shouldered woman. “Did you notice anything that seemed off with Jill? Did she seem worried or upset about anything?”
“She seemed a little distracted as the evening went on,” Carleen said. “But that doesn’t mean anything. We’d all been drinking.”
The food was delivered by the waitstaff and the group chatter fell quiet for a minute as they each dug into the meals.
Shelly asked Molly, “Did you happen to know Meg Stores?”
Molly set her fork down and she wiped at her mouth with her napkin. “I did know her. Meg was quiet at first, but she had a great sense of humor and was a wonderful conversationalist. That woman was smart. She knew about everything, literature, finances, politics, sports, the arts. She could discuss anything. I liked her. She seemed really happy here.”
“How did you meet Meg?”
“I don’t even remember. I think it was in a group thing, like this.” Molly gestured to the people gathered around the table and went silent for a few moments. “The news about Meg … that was very hard to hear.”
“Did Meg have any trouble with anyone? Something minor? Anything at all?”
“I never heard a thing like that,” Molly said. “I never noticed anything either. Meg seemed happy.”
“Do you have a guess who might have killed them?” Juliet had been mostly listening.
“I don’t know.” Molly held her hands out, palms up. “I really don’t. Maybe a tourist or a guy passing through town? The killer ran into them. It was probably random.”
“Why stop then?” Juliet asked.
“What do you mean?” Molly questioned.
“If the killings were random, why would the killer stop? There’s a whole town filled with young girls. Come to town, commit a crime, leave the area, but don’t go too far away. Then when things settle, come back and do it again.” Juliet looked from Molly to Shelly to Carleen. “Why stop killing?”
“Maybe the cops were getting too close?” Carleen offered.
“My point,” Juliet said, “is that I don’t think the crimes were random. I think there’s a reason the killer chose these two girls. I bet he stalked them or knew where to find them. There’s a reason he picked these two young women.”
“And if we can figure out why,” Shelly said, “then we’ll narrow down who the killer might be.”
“I have no idea,” Molly said. “I don’t even know what to base my thoughts on. I could never figure this out.”
“The whole thing is such a waste.” Juliet’s facial muscles tugged down. “Who could be so miserable or angry that he resorts to murder?”
“Plenty of people,” Carleen said.
“I hope you’re kidding,” Molly told the woman.
Carleen made a face. “I’m not kidding. Lots of people are angry at the world. Who knows what it takes to set them off?”
“Why do people like that have to take out their anger on someone who isn’t even related to the person’s troubles?” Molly wondered aloud.
“There’s some psychiatric-word for people like that, but it escapes me at the moment.” Carleen returned her focus to her meal.
“At least Meg was happy here,” Molly said. “For a little while.” Shaking off her melancholy, she continued, “Meg made good friends, she liked her jobs and the house she rented, she’d been dating. She loved being active. It seemed like the perfect place for her. Things were going great.”
“Until she ran into the wrong person,” Juliet groaned. “It isn’t right.”
“Jack took Meg’s death hard, too. He and Meg had been out on a couple of dates together.” Molly traced the condensation on her glass with her finger.
“Meg and Jack?” Juliet asked.
Molly gave a nod. “It was new. It had only just started.”
Although alarm bells sounded in Shelly’s head, she didn’t know what they were pointing to. “Jack seemed like a nice guy. Has he been in town long?”
“Not long, maybe six months,” Molly said. “He left the military a year ago. He was Special Forces.”
Special Forces? Jack.
Shelly couldn’t make sense of why she felt so anxious. What’s going on?
18
After slipping some cake pans into the oven, Shelly went out to the front room of the diner to sit with Juliet at one of the small tables. Juliet had stopped in to have breakfast before going to her job leading a white-water rafting tour. Her food was piled high on her plate and she dug into it with gusto.
“How can you eat so much food?” Shelly looked at the pile of eggs, home fries, bacon, black beans, and buttered toast on the plate in front of Juliet.
The young woman glanced up for a moment with a grin. “I work hard. I need the energy.” She took a gulp of her orange juice. “You need to come on one of these rafting trips. The water isn’t as powerful as in the spring, but it’s still a great ride. You should come along before the week is out. I’m afraid the river will calm down by then.”
“I will. It sounds like fun.” Shelly turned to look out the open window at the pine forest and she took in a long breath of fresh air. “I love the scent of the pine.”
“You know what else would be fun?” Juliet gave her friend the eye. “Doing that 5K race with me on the weekend.”
A frown formed on Shelly’s face. “I don’t know if I can do it. My leg still isn’t what it was.”
“You could alternate jogging and walking. Lots of people do it that way.”
“I guess I could give it a try. It’s for a good cause.”
“The deadline is 6pm today. You can sign up online,” Juliet encouraged.
Shelly rested her chin in her hand. “What did you think about what was discussed at dinner last night?”
“Everyone has an opinion about the murders.” Juliet spoke with her mouth full, apologized for being gross, then finished chewing and swallowed. “But no one knows anything.”
“Early on, we talked about the killer being ex-military.”
“I remember.” Juliet nodded. “Both women were found strangled, fully-clothed, neither one sexually assaulted. It would take someone strong to surprise an athletic woman and strangle her.”
Shelly recalled some details of the dream she’d had. “Unless….”
“Unless, what?”
“Unless the attacker struck the woman on the head first. That would probably disorient her for a few moments or even knock her out. That would result in little to no struggle by the victim.”
“That’s a good point,” Juliet noted. “If the victim fought back, she’d have the killer’s DNA under her fingernails. Meg and Jill must not have had the chance to fight back.”
“So it must have been a surprise attack … knock her out, strangle her before she can fully regain consciousness.” Shelly’s expression was serious. “That can’t be easy to do. The attacker would have to be strong to knock someone out.”
“The attacker would also have to know how to do such a thing.” Juliet added, “I know you can look that stuff up on the internet, but that’s not the same as actually doing it. I bet the killer had experience taking someone down. Martial arts experience? Military?”
Shelly gave a nod. “I think it would have to be planned, too. Knowing the person’s habits, which trails she walked or ran on would help the attacker figure out where to hide to keep him from being seen and that would allow him to get close to the woman quickly.”
“Smart, except for one thing.” Juliet scooped some egg onto her fork.
�
�What’s that?” Shelly asked.
“Almost everyone in this town is strong and athletic so our ideas don’t narrow down the field of suspects at all.”
Shelly ignored the comment. “Last night, Molly said Jack was ex-military. He’d dated Meg and Jill had been on one of his zip line tours. He’s only lived in Paxton Park for about six months.”
“I know.” Juliet groaned. “He seems like such a nice guy, though.”
“Some killers are like that. They’re friendly and nice and that puts people at ease and makes them unsuspecting.” Shelly leaned forward. “I don’t know who can be trusted and who can’t. Sometimes it makes me nervous. A couple of times yesterday I looked at the guys in our group and wondered if one of them might be the killer.”
Juliet let out a sigh. “I’ve felt the same way. A murder can sure change the atmosphere of a place.”
“What about Maria and what I learned about the money?” Shelly brought up Meg’s trust fund and how she would have been old enough soon to access the money. “It was millions. Maria might not have wanted to share all that with her sister. They were never close. Would Maria kill for that money?”
“People have and would kill over money,” Juliet said. “There’s just one problem. Say Maria did kill Meg … why would she kill Jill?”
“There would have to be a link. We’d have to find a link between them.”
“Then there’s Scott Bilow.” Shelly said the name like it made her mouth taste bad. “He made moves on Meg and was rejected. He didn’t want Jill to get the teaching job he wanted and hassled her about it one night in the pub. And, Maria had a text message from someone named Scott. Could those two be working together? Scott’s always losing his jobs, he must need money. Maria wanted the millions all to herself. Maybe they teamed up for a common purpose.”
“I wouldn’t trust either one of them.” Juliet finished the last of the food on her plate. “I wish we were better at figuring this out. I feel obligated to help because we found Jill Murray’s body.”
“I feel the same way.” Shelly sighed. “I had a dream a while ago. My sister was in it. I saw Jill running on the trail by the crooked trees. I sort of felt her get hit in the head and then everything went black. I think Jill was strangled before she could regain consciousness.” Shelly raised her eyes to Juliet. “It seemed real.”
Juliet kept her eyes locked on her friend. “Have you had any other dreams?”
“Some.”
“You should probably pay attention to them.”
Shelly tilted her head in question.
“When I go to the police station to see Jay, I have a very bad and nosy habit of peaking at the paperwork on her desk.” Juliet paused, then said, “I never go riffling through her stuff. If something is there and open, I’ve been known to take a quick glance. Anyway, I saw a report on her desk. There was a sentence that caught my eye … it said what you just said to me, that the victim was probably unconscious when strangled. I don’t know whether the report was on Meg or Jill.”
Shelly’s cheeks tinged pink with fluster. “That’s a weird coincidence.”
“Is it? A coincidence?” Juliet asked.
“Well, what else could it be?” Shelly’s heart started to race.
“Have you ever had other dreams like that one?”
“I don’t know. What are you getting at?”
“I’ve read about this kind of thing,” Juliet said. “Some people have dreams that are like premonitions or that tell something to the dreamer. It’s interesting that your sister was in the dream. I read that sometimes a relative or friend visits in a dream and shares important information with the person dreaming.”
Shelly fidgeted in her seat. “That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it isn’t. There’s a word that describes this dream-type thing. I can’t think of it. I’ll look it up later.”
“Don’t bother.” Shelly’s breathing was coming in short, quick breaths. “That stuff is nonsense. It was only a dream. That’s all it was. I thought it was interesting.”
“It is interesting,” Juliet said. “I don’t think you should discount it. I’ve read about people getting unusual abilities after a severe trauma. You were in a serious accident. You lost your sister.”
Her throat was so tight Shelly could barely speak. “It’s not like that.”
Juliet spoke in a soft voice and reached across the table to touch Shelly’s hand for a second. “Your sister might be looking out for you.” With a kind smile, Juliet stood up. “If I don’t get to work, those rafts will leave without me. See you later.”
Shelly nodded and, even though she knew it wasn’t possible, she had to blink back tears from thinking that her dear sister, Lauren, was near and was watching over her.
19
The day of the fun run dawned pleasantly warm and clear, perfect for the activities sponsored by the Paxton Park resort. In addition to the 5K run, there would be free use of kayaks and canoes on the lake, free bike tours of the area, guided hikes around the mountain, music, and food. On the way out to meet Juliet, Shelly caught a look at herself in the full-length mirror. In her running shorts, the leg scars from the accident and subsequent surgeries showed red and angry against the lightly-tanned skin. Still self-conscious about the discolored marks of damage, she rubbed her hand over one of them and felt the smooth, raised skin beneath her fingers.
Shelly parked her bike in the employee section of the resort property and found Juliet standing with a group of young men and women readying themselves for the short race. The grounds of the resort swarmed with tourists and locals soaking up the festive atmosphere of bands playing music and food vendors set up next to craftspeople selling their wares at tables and booths. People stood in line to take the ski lift ride up and down the mountain and to try out kayaks and canoes.
“This is great.” Shelly had a wide smile on her face. “So many people.”
“They do this four times a year, spring, summer, fall, and winter. It’s good advertising for the resort.” Juliet pointed. “Down that way, there are archery, skeet shooting, and martial arts demonstrations and then people get to try the activities for free.”
The group headed to the sign-in table to get their numbers and then moved to the starting line with the other participants.
“I’m nervous.” Shelly rubbed her palms against her shorts. “I hope I don’t look foolish when I have to walk.”
Juliet put her arm around Shelly’s shoulders and squeezed. “You’ll be fine. Look at what you’ve accomplished not even a year from the accident. I’ll stay with you.”
“No, don’t. You run.” Shelly knew that Juliet had a friendly rivalry going with some of the other runners and she wanted her friend to do her best. “I’ll meet up with you at the finish.” She gave a little push to Juliet. “Go up front where you belong and give ‘em all heck.”
Prior to the accident, Shelly had been a good runner having completed five marathons. As she rubbed her thigh and calf muscles, her emotions mixed together with equal parts regret, sadness, and a tinge of anger at the loss of her physical strength and stamina. She swallowed hard trying to push the negative feelings from her mind, determined to fully recover one day.
The gun fired and the runners were off, moving slowly at first as the crowd began to separate from one another. Shelly jogged the first quarter mile and then eased to a limping walk when her leg tired. A man ran past on her left, noticed her, and stopped to walk alongside.
“Are you okay?” Jack from the zip line course asked, concern etched on his face.
“Yeah, thanks.” Shelly smiled and explained her leg injury and how she was trying to get back in shape.
“I’m very sorry about the accident.” Jack’s tone was sincere. “I can tell that you’re mentally strong. You’ll be fine. It just takes time. Be good to yourself, don’t push too hard. You’ll recover quicker that way.”
“Do you have medical training?” Shelly asked.
“Not at all.”
Jack shook his head. “I’ve had an injury myself and I was in Afghanistan and Iraq. I saw some of my buddies wounded and watched their recoveries. You’ll get better. Keep positive and give it time.”
“Thanks for stopping.” Shelly encouraged Jack to go ahead and run, but he declined.
“Nah. I’ll walk with you. We can talk.”
Although Shelly’s initial sense of Jack was that he was friendly and kind, she wasn’t able to shake the itch of worry that he might be the killer. She couldn’t help but like the man and hated to harbor suspicions about him. The two chatted as they walked, sharing information about where they grew up, their occupations, love of the outdoors and being active, and why they made the move to the mountain. Shelly glossed over the details of the accident saying only that there had been fatalities. Jack was sensitive and thoughtful in his reaction.
Shelly said, “So I thought it was a good time to make a move and there was an opening at the resort for a baker. I like working in the kitchen with Henry. He’s a good person and fun to be around. It’s part time right now which suits me fine.”
“After leaving active duty, I felt like I needed somewhere peaceful and not hectic like a city.” Jack chuckled. “I know this place can be crawling with tourists, but the atmosphere is happy and relaxed since most people are on vacation.”
They walked without speaking for a few minutes and then Jack said, “The murders hit me hard. I went out a couple of times with Meg Stores. It wasn’t anything serious, but her murder sucker-punched me. She was a nice person. I’ve been in war, been on missions. I lost friends. When you’re home and away from such things, well, it hits hard. Things like that aren’t supposed to happen at home. I couldn’t believe it.”
Shelly murmured understanding words. “I heard Jill Murray had been on one of the zip line excursions with you as a guide.”
“Yeah, when I heard that she’d died, too, it was another shock. I wish the cops would solve this mess.”