He turned to the manager whose eyes were wide and panic-filled. “Nobody could have been poisoned at my resort,” he said.
Mark held up a hand to calm the man down. “We don’t know anything yet, and won’t until your police have done a toxin screen. For all we know he died of a heart attack and that was all there was to it.”
“This is a disaster,” the other man muttered. “If word gets out about this...”
“Listen to me and focus. There’s no need to spread panic and misinformation. All we know at the moment is that a man has died. How and why will be figured out later. Now, how long before the police arrive?”
“They should be here shortly.”
“Good. Let me know when they get here. For now, let’s get her someplace else where we can hopefully calm her down a bit.”
“There’s a couch in my office. She can lay down on that,” he said.
“Perfect. Take her there, then come back.”
“I’ll go with her,” the writer volunteered. “I’ll talk to her, try to make more sense of things.”
“Thank you, I would appreciate that.”
She nodded.
“Follow me, ladies,” the manager said, turning and heading toward the resort lobby. They followed, the widow leaning heavily on the romance novelist. Mark shook his head. There was irony there somewhere.
Now all he had to do was keep everyone out of the hut and wait for the police to show up and take charge of the scene. This was so not the way he had intended to spend his relaxing getaway with Traci.
Jeremiah had given up on sleep around three a.m. and had been back on the computer searching for more information about Henry White and the dead girl, Lydia Jenkins. When he found Lydia’s Facebook page, the first thing that jumped out at him was that she didn’t care about privacy, either hers or other people’s. The second thing that struck him was that she had been a fan of Henry’s. As he began scrolling through page after page of pictures he amended that. She wasn’t just a fan. She appeared to be a full-fledged stalker. She had gathered an impressive number of pictures of him, both official press release photos and some incredibly candid ones that looked like they had been taken with him unaware that he was being photographed.
He wondered if the politician had known that Lydia was stalking him. He would have to ask Liam if the man had taken out any restraining orders against her. He found one album of photographs that was entirely dedicated to his walk across California campaign. There were pictures of her posing with Henry White in a dozen different locations.
So, she had been stalking him on the campaign trail. He wondered how many of the stops she had been there for.
He was just about to close the browser when one last picture caught his eye. It was of Lydia proudly showing off a Vote Henry White for California bumper sticker. It was on what looked like a green Honda. He was fairly certain he had seen that car in the First Shepherd parking lot the evening before. It had to be Lydia’s. He wondered if the police had searched it yet.
He glanced at the clock. It was too early to call Liam. He was sure the detective would not thank him for rousing him out of sleep.
Jeremiah quickly got dressed and drove over to the church. Out of force of habit he parked at the synagogue. A minute later he was crossing through one of the paths in the hedge that separated the two lots. He was right. There was a green Honda sitting in the back third of the lot.
He approached it cautiously, walking slowly around it. There, on the back bumper, was the tell-tale political sticker from the picture. He was itching to get inside the car and see what he could find. He had gloves in the pocket of his jacket, and he could break in without leaving so much as a fingerprint.
If the car held real evidence, though, it was better to do this right. He pulled his phone out. Liam would just have to cope with the early wake-up call.
“Hello?” the detective said, clearly half-asleep.
“Hi, it’s Jeremiah. Did you guys search Lydia’s car yesterday at the church?”
“What? No. Is her car there?”
“Yeah, it is. I think you better come down here so we can open it and see what might be inside before someone else gets curious and comes to look.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Twenty minutes later Liam pulled into the parking lot. He got out of his car, a coffee mug in one hand. He looked alert enough but the fact that his shirt was misbuttoned said otherwise. Jeremiah decided to point it out later.
“So, you’re sure this is her car?” Liam asked.
Jeremiah nodded. “There was a picture of her showing off the bumper sticker on her Facebook page.”
Liam nodded and took a sip of his coffee.
“So, what have you found out about Lydia?” Jeremiah asked.
“She was a grad student, getting a Masters in Political Science up at Sacramento State. Which explains how she came to be interested in Henry White.”
“Obsessed with him is more like it,” Jeremiah said. “There were hundreds of pictures of him on her Facebook page. A lot were quite intimate and he didn’t appear to know he was being photographed.”
“A stalker, huh? Her roommate said that she was following the campaign very closely and that she had gone to a lot of the rallies. I guess she didn’t know just how deep the obsession ran.”
“Or she was trying not to say anything negative about her,” Jeremiah said.
“When I talked to the roommate last night she said Lydia was pretty upset Saturday morning when she showed up to grab some clean clothes and then left, presumably to drive down here. She just kept muttering ‘not right’ and ‘needs to know’.”
“She didn’t happen to say what wasn’t right or who needed to know, did she?”
“Unfortunately no.”
“Well, let’s take a look inside her car,” Jeremiah suggested. “Maybe there’s a clue in there as to what she was talking about or who killed her or why.”
“Not so fast. I’ve got one of the crime scene guys coming to go over it.”
Jeremiah was frustrated and feeling impatient. He should have just checked out the car himself before calling Liam.
Fortunately a car pulled into the parking lot five minutes later with the techs who proceeded to unlock the Honda and go over every square inch of it. Jeremiah and Liam watched the progress silently.
When at last they had finished Jeremiah turned to Liam. “You know what they didn’t find?”
“What?”
“A cell phone or a camera.”
“Neither of those were at the crime scene,” Liam said.
“Strange, don’t you think?”
“I guess. Why?”
“Lydia took hundreds of pictures of White and about a dozen with him. In fact, everywhere the man went she seemed to have some sort of camera trained on him. So, what happened to it?”
“That’s a very good question.”
Jeremiah nodded. “I’m guessing if you find her camera, you’ll find your killer.”
“The question is why take the camera or the phone or whatever it was?”
“I’d be willing to bet Lydia took a picture someone never wanted the world to see, and that picture is what got her killed.”
9
Cindy woke up feeling almost worse than she had the night before. She hadn’t slept well; her dreams had been plagued by dark, shadowy figures that seemed to mock her at every turn. She sat up slowly and looked around. Her parents had already left. Pajamas had been flung on the other bed haphazardly. She wondered how long ago her parents had gotten up as she forced herself out of bed.
If they’d had word about Kyle they surely would have woken her up. She checked her phone. No messages. That was a good sign. She made it into the bathroom and took a quick shower, hoping the hot water would wake her up. Instead she caught herself nodding off. She forced her eyes back open. She had a difficult day ahead of her and she couldn’t start it off by falling asleep in the shower and hurting herself.
&n
bsp; Once dressed she called her dad’s phone.
He picked up right away. From the sound of his voice she could tell that he hadn’t slept well either.
“Is there any change?” she asked.
“No.”
“Okay. I have to take care of a couple of things and then I’ll come over later this morning.”
“I’ll call if anything changes,” he promised.
“Thanks. Do you need anything?”
“No.”
She finished getting ready, grateful that he hadn’t asked her what things she needed to take care of. The last thing either of her parents needed to deal with right now was the fact that she’d had her purse snatched. It was the last thing she wanted to be dealing with, too, but what could she do? If she didn’t make a statement the police would have a more difficult time trying to send the man to jail. If he went free then he’d be back on the streets robbing someone else.
She headed downstairs, and made her way to the hotel restaurant to get some breakfast. As she followed the hostess through a maze of tables she spotted a familiar figure seated by himself.
“Martin!” she called.
The man jerked and turned around in his chair, eyes sweeping the room. She gave a little wave and he nodded then smiled. He touched his ear briefly, and then he waved to an empty chair. “Care to join me?”
“Sure.”
The hostess turned and went to Martin’s table. She put the menu down for Cindy, and then headed back to the front of the restaurant. Cindy slid into the chair across from Martin’s.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said as she picked up her menu.
“It’s okay. I’m afraid I’m not much of a morning person.”
“I understand.”
“How’s your brother?”
“No change, I’m afraid.”
“Well, if I’ve learned one thing over the years it’s that where there’s life, there’s hope.”
She nodded, and then perused her menu. She was so tired and stressed, though, that all the words just seemed to jumble together and the few she did manage to read she had to re-read twice before they would stick in her brain.
“May I make a suggestion?” Martin asked after a minute.
“Please do,” she said with a frustrated sigh as she set the menu down.
“French toast. I just had some, and it was excellent.”
“That sounds like a winner to me.”
After the waiter came and took her order she slumped slightly in her chair. She really was exhausted.
Martin frowned at her. “You look like you should try to go get some more sleep.”
She shook her head. “I’ve got to go down to the police station. Then it’s back to the hospital.”
“As long as you make it to the police station sometime today I’m sure you’ll be fine. And your folks will call if there’s any change at the hospital. You do have your phone on you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Cindy said, reaching into her bag to check and see if there were any messages on it. She felt around for her phone for a minute and then realized she’d left it on the nightstand up in the room.
“Dang it.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I must have left my phone up in the room. I’m glad I checked. Now I’ll have to go all the way back upstairs to get it before I head to the police station.”
“You’ve got time to go grab it now before your food shows. That way you’ll be free to head out as soon as you’re finished.”
“I guess I do. I’ll be right back.”
He nodded as he picked up his coffee mug and took a sip.
Fortunately it didn’t take her long to make it back to the room, grab her phone, and get back downstairs. A minute after she sat down the waiter brought her food.
After a couple of bites she admitted, “You’re right, it is good.” She was surprised she could even taste anything with the state she was in. As it was she wolfed down all the food in what had to be record time.
He smiled at her when she had finished. “Feel a bit more ready to deal with the day?”
“Yes, actually.”
“It’s surprising how much a good meal can brighten your mood and give you energy.”
“You’re right.”
“Well, good luck with your day. I’m sure I’ll bump into you later. Now, though, I have to get to a meeting,” he said, rising. “And don’t worry about the check, I already took care of it.”
She stared at him in shock. “You didn’t need to do that.”
He shrugged. “It’s a small thing, but it was what I could do for you.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Do me a favor and just try to take it easy today.”
She gave him a smile.
Martin left the restaurant, and a minute later she followed suit. Outside the lobby the doorman was able to hail a cab for her and moments later she was on her way to the police station. At the front desk she explained who she was and why she was there. An officer escorted her to a small room to wait for someone to come and take her statement.
She sat alone for almost half an hour, compulsively checking her phone for messages every couple of minutes. She had taken the deck of cards she’d bought the night before out of her purse and kept cutting them one-handed, grateful that she had something to fidget with. Finally an officer came in. She recognized him as one of the ones who had been talking to Lisa in her hospital room.
“Sorry to keep you waiting so long, Miss Preston,” he said.
“It’s okay. Did you find the driver that hit Kyle and Lisa?”
He hesitated slightly before saying, “We don’t have any new information to share on that.”
She quickly picked up on the words “to share”. That didn’t mean they didn’t know anything new, it just meant they weren’t willing to talk about it. She pressed a little harder. “I’m heading to the hospital as soon as I’m done here and I know everyone’s looking for some glimmer of hope that you’ll catch the guy.”
“I understand, ma’am, but there’s nothing I can say at this time.”
“Okay,” she said, frustrated because she knew he was holding out on her.
He sat down across the table from her and cleared his throat. “Now, as I understand it, you told the clerk at the desk that you’re here on a different matter. A purse snatching, is that correct?”
“Yes. I agreed to come down here this morning and give my full statement so charges could be pressed.”
“And who did you agree to this with?”
“The two officers who arrested the thief,” Cindy said.
“So, let me make sure I’ve got this straight. Your purse was snatched last night by a thief. He was stopped, and two officers came and arrested him and told you to come down here today?”
“Well, there’s a few more points and complications to the story, but yes, that’s basically what happened.”
“I see. Did you happen to get the name of the arresting officers?”
“No, but one of them gave me this card,” she said, pulling it out of her purse and handing it to him.
He took it and stared at it with a frown. “It’s just a standard card with the address,” he said.
Alarm bells started going off in her head. “Is there something wrong?” she asked.
He set the card down on the table and finally met her eyes. “I’m not sure what to say. The truth is, we have no record of a purse snatching incident last night involving you or the hotel you’re staying at.”
“You’re joking,” she said, feeling a twisting sensation in her stomach.
“Trust me, ma’am, I wish I was.”
“How is that possible? Two officers came and arrested him. They wanted me to come in last night for a statement, but Martin told them how tired I was, and they said I could come in this morning. Then they took him away.”
“Who is Martin?”
“He’s the man who tackled the guy after h
e stole my purse.”
“Did he call the police?”
“No, the security guard at the hotel did. The officers showed up really quickly and they said they’d just finished investigating another purse snatching in the area.”
“Ma’am, could you describe the officers?” he asked.
“They both had brown hair and were of medium height. I think I would recognize them if I saw them again.”
“What about the purse snatcher?”
She shook her head. “He was wearing a hoodie and I never really got a look at his face.”
The officer leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing. “How about the security guard?”
“He was older, in his fifties, with white hair. He was kind of short.”
“And his ethnicity?”
“He was Caucasian.”
The officer was silent for a long minute. Finally he cleared his throat. “Ma’am, can you tell me what medications you routinely take?”
“What? Nothing, why?” she asked, startled.
“With everything that’s happened to your brother I realize that you’re under a great deal of strain.”
“What does that have to do with anything? What is going on?” she demanded. She could feel her heart begin to pound. Something was very, very wrong here.
“Sometimes when a person is under a lot of stress they can have problems dealing with what’s going on,” he said slowly.
“I don’t understand any of this.”
“It’s possible that you had a dream or perhaps an hallucination-”
She shoved back her chair and stood to her feet, anger flaring through her. “I’m not crazy! Dozens of people in that lobby saw what happened. They applauded when Martin tackled the thief to the ground. I don’t know what’s going on here, but two of your police officers came and took the man away. I’m here to give my statement about the whole incident. Now, would you like to help me figure out what’s going on here?”
He stared up at her, eyes veiled, and she decided that this had to be what going crazy felt like, when you knew something and yet noone else believed you.
There was a sudden knock on the door. The officer went over and opened it. “I’ll take over from here,” a female voice said.
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