Deadly Gratitude

by Lori Donnester

  Kate’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m really not one to stereotype.”

  “No, of course not. You’re just going to blow off all men due to the actions of one man.”

  Kate blinked. Her lips parted but no words came out. Just then, drum sticks crashed against some cymbals and the band started playing right as the men returned to the table. Sabrina stood up and put one hand on her hip.

  Luke glanced at Don. “I’ll be back.”

  Kate swirled a straw in her margarita and looked at Don. “Do you like this music?”

  “Absolutely. I’m a big fan of all music.” He took a sip of beer. “Have you heard about the studies they’ve done listening to the rhythms found in nature?”

  Kate shook her head.

  “They found that the sounds from birds, frogs, bugs, et cetera have certain rhythms. Interestingly enough, those exact rhythms are found in music. From Mozart to The Who, music has the same basic rhythms as the rhythms found in nature.”

  Kate’s eyes widened and she leaned forward. “That’s crazy! Really?” She sat back again and giggled. “After all of these years of hating bugs I can’t believe I have something in common with them.” Her lips twitched. “I do like frogs though.” She got up and started dancing while singing “Ribbitt, ribbitt,” making motions she thought a frog would make. She stuck out her tongue as she danced. She looked so ridiculous Don broke into laughter and couldn’t stop. Soon Kate was laughing too. When Sabrina and Luke got back to the table they found two hysterical people wiping their eyes.

  “What’s so funny?” Sabrina demanded.

  “Oh, you had to be there,” Kate gasped. “Ribbitt.” She and Don broke up again. Then the band played another song and this time all four of them went out onto the dance floor.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Just a few miles away, Wanda walked out of the toy store hugging a three foot tall snow-white teddy bear. She took care as she placed it into the passenger seat and almost had to stop herself from putting it in a seat belt. “I wonder what my child will name you. I guess I will have to wait until my baby is born and learns how to talk, won’t I?” Giggling, she sang “The Wheels on the Bus” at the top of her lungs the entire ride home.

  Looking at the empty space where Pete’s car was usually parked brought a frown to her face, so she took out her cell phone, dialed her husband, and told him all about the events of the day, as she walked into the house holding the bear close to her body.

  The killer pulled up and stopped his car near her house. She left the garage door open! He closed his eyes. Too good to be true.

  Wanda was on the main floor upstairs hanging her coat in the closet. “Alicia’s funeral was beautiful, Pete. The music was gorgeous and the flowers were so nice. And the readings and the speakers were wonderful. Everybody kept saying over and over how uplifting the service was.” She listened for a minute. “Yes of course. Every night I lock the doors, I set the alarm, and I’m careful.” She moved towards the bathroom and held up a stick. She put the pregnancy test back down and started hopping around.

  “Pete, I was going to wait until you got home to tell you this but I just can’t. Honey, I’m pregnant!” She held the phone away from her ear as she heard her husband’s joyful exclamations on the other end of the line. “Yes, it’s true. After all of these tries, after all of these years, it’s finally happened. You’re going to be a daddy!”

  By now she was in the living room and she sank down on a contemporary couch right next to the teddy bear, wiping her eyes. “I’m so happy, too. I have my first doctor’s appointment next week. Do you want to come?” She and her husband talked on and on.

  Outside, the killer bolted out of his car. He pulled on some gloves, opened the trunk, and reviewed its contents. He found himself holding his breath as he looked over each shoulder. Coast is clear. Retrieving the axe, he put it under his coat. Still looking around, he crossed the street and slipped into the garage.

  After finishing her conversation with her husband, Wanda moseyed around her house, cradling the bear. Wandering into the guest room, she straightened her arms out and held the bear in front of her. “What color do you think would look good for the baby’s room?” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like the idea of pink or blue.” She looked at the bear. “Maybe a creamy color like beach sand.” She pursed her lips, then started nodding. “I like that idea. But maybe we should get Pete’s input too. We want him to feel included, don’t we?” She chuckled and hugged the bear.

  The killer flattened himself against the wall and waited, heart pounding. He panted and concentrated on forcing himself to stop. He heard some joggers go by and froze, trying to stop the sweat from dripping off his forehead.

  Inside the house, Wanda sat down at her computer, turned it on, and placed the bear next to her. “Let’s look at some furniture. You would look so cute sitting in a little chair when we bring the baby home.”

  The killer pried himself away from the wall and inched his way to the door that lead into the house. He opened it with caution.

  On the main floor, Wanda absorbed the choices on her computer screen. She scrolled through a website, clicking on items of interest. She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “Hmmm. That’s pretty cute.” She chewed on her lip as she contemplated the image before her.

  The killer inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm himself as he stayed quiet. Step by step, he crept around the first floor of the home.

  Upstairs, Wanda leaned forward and grabbed the computer mouse. “I’ll keep looking, but that’s a start.” She scrolled through some more images and then she picked up the bear and meandered over to the kitchen table for a quick review of the different drawings of the building she designed for work. She put her hand on her stomach. “Wish your Mommy luck at her presentation tomorrow, little one.”

  Her phone rang and she answered it. “Oh, thanks Grace. I was on the phone with Pete when I got out of my car, and I guess I was so excited to talk to him that I forgot to close the garage door.” She paused. “No, don’t be silly. Clyde doesn’t need to come over. I’ll just run downstairs and close it. And yes, if I need anything I’ll be sure to call.”

  Wanda pattered down the stairs and closed the garage door. It was noisy as it shut and she didn’t hear the killer edge next to the stairs.

  As she turned to go back upstairs he raised the axe high and buried it into the back of her head. A small scream escaped her lips before the axe destroyed her brain and she fell to the ground dropping the teddy bear next to her. It didn’t take long for the white bear to become soaked with Wanda’s blood. The killer’s eyes were slits as he pulled the rosary out of a pocket and wrapped it around her neck. Her lifeless eyes were wide open as he tightened the chain. Then he put the rosary back into his pocket, picked up the axe, and walked out through the back door.

  He wiped his shoes on the snow and inched around to the front of the house. The street was quiet. He hurried over to his car and sped away.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Dressed in sweats, Don stood out on his back deck with Belle on his shoulder while sipping some steaming coffee and watching the early morning sun’s ascent into the pink sky over the mountains. “Belle, I really don’t want to go in to work today. I want to get away from everything. Just go skiing.” He sighed and put his finger near Belle so she would climb onto it. He brought her around so they were face to face. “But I’ve got to go in. I got the green light to start working again after the shootings with those devil worshippers. We’ve got to get them to talk. I want this case closed.” Belle blinked her eyes in response.

  With that, he placed Belle in her cage and got dressed.

  He picked up Luke and they both entered the station after picking up their guns. As they walked in, Don stopped to pick up a piece of paper Zach Daskalis dropped from his desk. Zach looked like he was filling ou
t some paperwork.

  “Hey Zach, what’s the update?” Luke walked over to Zach’s desk. “Have they broken their silence on our case yet?”

  “Nothing doing.” Zach sat back in his chair. “Get this: a couple of them are surprised that they are going to be prosecuted for killing homeless people!” He shook his head in disgust. “At any rate, thanks to you two we’ve got the homeless murders solved, but they still won’t admit to killing Alicia and Gail.” He paused. “And now they’ve got lawyers.”

  “Crap!” Luke ran a hand over his head. “I’ll call and see where they are on DNA and the rest of the evidence. If we get something even somewhat solid, that could start the ball rolling and then they’ll talk.” He picked up his phone and dialed.

  Don wandered over to the whiteboard, his eyes narrowing as he studied it. Something bothered him, but he couldn’t figure out what.

  Just then, his phone rang. “Layden here.” As he listened, his heart fell. He hung up and his head dropped. He just stood there, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He exhaled and sank down into his chair, turning towards Luke as though in a trance. “The reason why those bozos haven’t confessed is because there’s a good chance that they didn’t do it. The killer struck again.” Don stared at Luke for a long moment and watched as his partner turned and pounded his fist on the desk. Don leaned over and held his head in his hands. After a few long minutes, he raised himself out of his chair, and took a deep breath. Without a word, he and Luke took off to the crime scene.

  When Don and Luke arrived, Meg was already there. Don viewed the scene. Wanda lay in a heap at the bottom of the stairs in a drying pool of blood. A teddy bear soaked in her blood was next to her.

  Meg spoke up, “It’s the same guy. Axe to the back of the head, chain wrapped around after the chop. I’d say she’s been dead about thirteen hours.”

  “Her name is Wanda Benaducci. She’s an architect and she missed a very important meeting.” A police officer held up the pregnancy test stick. “And we found this in the bathroom. It’s positive.”

  Don closed his eyes, threw back his head, and a groan escaped his lips. Shaking himself, he opened his eyes and clicked on his tape player. “What information do we have on Wanda so far?”

  “We know her,” said a voice from behind him.

  Don looked over his shoulder and saw an African-American couple standing in the background, holding hands. Don stepped towards them and introduced himself. “How do you know the victim?”

  The man answered “We are her neighbors. I’m Clyde Floyd and this is my wife, Grace.”

  “Wanda is an architect,” Grace said. “Her husband is in sales. We’ve been neighbors for years. Before Pete went out of town, he called us and asked us to watch out for her while he was gone. I called her last night because she left her garage door open after she got home.” Grace’s voice shook. “I offered to have Clyde come over and make sure everything was okay, but she said she was fine.” Grace’s eyes filled with tears and she covered her face with a handkerchief.

  Clyde put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “That was about nine last night.”

  “Which fits with the time of death.”

  Clyde continued, “This morning Grace called Wanda to see how she was doing and she didn’t answer. I came over and saw the blood in the snow. We got worried and called the police.”

  Don finished scribbling in his notebook and then regarded Wanda’s neighbors. “Anything else you can tell us to shed some light on this? Strange cars in the neighborhood? Someone walking around in the cold who really didn’t belong?”

  Clyde and Grace looked at each other and shook their heads.

  Grace returned her gaze to Don and her brown eyes filled with tears. “We can’t think of anything.”

  “That’s all right,” Don reassured her as he handed her his card. “Right now, you are in shock. Here’s my card. Give me a call any time day or night if you remember something. Even if you think it’s insignificant, just call.”

  Heads bowed, the couple trudged out the back door.

  “There is no sign of forced entry,” a police officer said. “We checked all of the doors and windows.”

  Don examined a piece of paper. “She’s on the list of the Bible study members at St. James.”

  “Crap!” Luke pounded a fist against the wall. “We were there with her last night!”

  “Maybe he was there, too.” Don’s face hardened. “Maybe this guy wanted to see his victim alive before he killed her. Plus, I think he gets off on the publicity that surrounds this case.” Don narrowed his eyes. “The homeless killers avoided publicity, but I think this guy likes it. That’s the part that bothers me about both cases. They just don’t line up.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s bothering me about this case.” Belinda walked up behind Don and Luke. “That it isn’t solved yet! What the hell have you two been doing, besides working on everyone else’s case but your own?”

  Don turned to face Belinda. “We’ve been working our case, Belinda. Following up on leads, exploring every avenue.”

  “Yeah, I heard what you said to Sarah Snow about the plethora of leads you have.” Belinda’s eyes burned. “Interesting. I know of a detective or two who are no longer detectives. They talked to the media too much.” She raised her eyebrows.

  Don flushed bright red and he leaned down so his face was right next to Belinda’s. “Do what you gotta do Belinda.” His voice came through his teeth in a snarl. “But good luck on solving this case if you’re down one more detective.” With that, he turned, strode out of the room, jumped into the Crown Vic, and took off.

  The room was silent as the team standing near Wanda’s body stared after Don. Luke cleared his throat. “Huh. My ride just took off. Looks like I’m going to have to hitch a lift back to the station.”

  “I can’t believe you’re being so cavalier about what your partner just did,” Belinda spluttered. “We are in the middle of a murder investigation!”

  “Yeah, and whether you want to believe it or not, we’ve been working it, Belinda. We’ve been spending time on those files as ordered and we’ve also been following as many other leads as we can. We don’t want to see another woman meet her death. We’ve hardly slept.” Luke’s eyes narrowed and his voice dropped. “We’re not lazy pieces of crap. We’re working our butts off.”

  Belinda shot a penetrating glare at Luke then stormed up the stairs. Her footsteps pounded above them as she stomped around the room. They heard cursing as pieces of the conversation she was having with herself floated down the stairs to them.

  Luke turned to face the others. “Let’s just get back to work and let her blow off some steam.” He snorted. “Ain’t no way she’ll let Don go. She can’t. She needs him.” His eyes flickered. “And she’s figuring that out right now.”

  Luke watched the team come back to life and get to work.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Don drove home, parked the Crown Vic and stormed into his condo. Minutes later, he was in his ski clothes. He threw his skis, boots, and poles into his SUV and headed up I-70 to Breckenridge.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  A few miles away, the killer held the phone to his ear. “Yes, David I am in the process of sending the funds out for the Cook family. International money isn’t quite as liquid as money invested domestically.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, Mr. Cook’s accident was terrible, and I understand that the family needs cash to keep going. I will get it to them as soon as I can.”

  He set the phone down and leaned back, his eyes not moving from his computer screen. After repeated attempts to talk with someone, the lack of an answer from his Brazilian investments concerned him. He touched his stomach as an uneasy feeling came over him.

  Shaking himself, he sat up and found the website for Delta Airlines. It was time
to take a trip to Brazil. Sometimes a personal visit paid huge dividends. These people need to see that they were dealing with a professional. They better not even try to ignore me!

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Driving up to the ski resort on I-70, Don’s hands tremored as he gripped the steering wheel. The good news was that, for once, the traffic wasn’t bumper to bumper. He got out of the car and in no time got off the chairlift. Then, he skied several runs at top speed. The cold mountain air invigorated him, and he could feel the stress peeling away in layers, run after run. Sometime later, he found himself sitting next to three young female snowboarders on a quad chairlift.

  “Hi, how’s your day going?” A young woman with blonde braids sticking out from under a pink helmet grinned at him.

  “I’ve had better.” Don paused for a minute. “How about yours?”

  “Oh, I’m having a great day! I just finished up all of my exams at Colorado State. Wahoo! It’s vacation!” She pumped her fists into the air.

  Don had to smile at her animation. “What are you studying?”

  “I’m a marketing major. I’m going to convince all of America to buy the brand of whatever company I work for!”

  This time Don chuckled. “You’re making a believer out of me already. When does America get to see you in action?”

  “I’m only a freshman even though I’m twenty-one. I started down the wrong path out of high school. But eventually I figured things out. That’s when I enrolled in CSU.”

  “Impressive. What made you figure out that you were on the wrong path?”

  The sun gleamed on the lens of her bright pink goggles as she tilted her head. “I wasn’t getting anywhere, and finally it occurred to me that the only one who could change that was me.”

  The chairlift came to an end and Don watched the girls as they strapped on their boards and took off, pumping their fists amidst hoots and hollers. Don squinted. “So, you were on the wrong path and you figured out the only one who could change that was you.”