Crimes Past
Page 1
Crimes
Past
A Mac Faraday Mystery
By
Lauren Carr
Crimes Past: Book Information
All Rights Reserved © 2018 by Lauren Carr
Published by Acorn Book Services
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.
For information, call: 304-995-1295
or e-mail: writerlaurencarr@gmail.com.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Designed by Acorn Book Services
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Edited by Jennifer Checketts
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Cover designed by Todd Aune
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Published in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Crimes Past: Book Information
Cast of Characters
Epigraph
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
About the Author
Check Out Lauren Carr’s Mysteries!
Attention Book-Clubbers!
The Root of Murder
Cast of Characters
(in order of appearance)
Kassandra Johansson: Responsible older sister of one of the murder victims. Matron of honor at the wedding. Crime scene investigator. Finds the bodies.
Captain Rod Pratt: Father of one of the victims. Retired chief of the homicide division.
Brie Pratt: Murdered on her wedding night. Homicide detective. She had a gift for making enemies.
Trevor Polk: Murdered on his wedding night. Detective in vice.
Will Harrington: Retired chief of the vice division. Legendary undercover investigator.
Rico Sanchez: Homicide detective. His partner is Troy Underwood. His wife is Clarissa.
Troy Underwood: Homicide detective. His partner is Rico Sanchez. His wife is Joan.
Clarissa Sanchez: Rico’s wife. Best friends with Joan Underwood.
Joan Underwood: Troy’s wife. Best friends with Clarissa, Rico’s wife.
Dani Derringer: Homicide detective. One of Mac’s proteges. She learned well and has swiftly through the ranks.
Lou Gannon: Deputy chief of the homicide division. He’s got issues—one of them is chain smoking, which will kill you.
Bruno Gordon: Detective with vice. Trevor Polk’s partner. Gunned down six months before the murders.
Police Chief David O’Callaghan: Spencer’s chief of police. Mac Faraday’s younger half-brother by their father, Patrick O’Callaghan, Spencer’s late police chief.
Police Chief Patrick O’Callaghan: David’s late father. Spencer’s legendary police chief. The love of Robin Spencer’s life and Mac Faraday’s birth father.
Storm: David’s Belgian shepherd. His constant companion.
Tonya: Desk sergeant with Spencer Police Department. She knows every furry critter on Deep Creek Lake.
Deputy Chief Arthur Bogart (Bogie): Spencer’s deputy police chief. David’s godfather. Don’t let his gray hair and weathered face fool you.
Gnarly: Mayor of Spencer. Mac Faraday’s German shepherd.
Mac Faraday: Retired homicide detective. On the day his divorce became final, he inherited $270 million and an estate on Deep Creek Lake from his birth mother, Robin Spencer. Married to Archie Monday.
Robin Spencer: Mac Faraday’s late birth mother and world-famous mystery author. As an unwed teenager, she gave him up for adoption. After becoming America’s queen of mystery, she found her son. Her ancestors founded Spencer, Maryland, located on the shore of Deep Creek Lake, a resort area in Western Maryland.
Archie Monday: Former editor and research assistant to world-famous mystery author Robin Spencer. Mac Faraday’s wife.
Dr. Dora Washington: Garrett County Medical Examiner. Bogie’s girlfriend.
Gina Johansson: Brie’s daughter. Now she’s the bride. Mac had promised to solve her mother’s murder—if it’s the last thing he does.
Morgan Johansson: Kasandra’s daughter. Maid of honor.
Hector Langford: Chief of security at the Spencer Inn. Dashing Australian.
Jeff Ingles: Manager at the Spencer Inn.
Gwen: No-nonsense president of the town council. Mac likes to play hide-and-seek with her.
Constance Kleinfeld: Mac and Archie’s neighbor. Loves cats. Hates dogs.
Edward Kleinfeld: Constance’s husband.
Rosa: Rico Sanchez’s second wife.
Lieutenant Commander Hope West: A woman from David’s past.
Gabriel Patrick Vanderbilt: Hope’s fifteen year old son. He drives a Porsche.
Office Nathan Brewster: Spencer Police Officer.
Officer Fletcher: Spencer Police Officer.
Epigraph
I firmly believe that you live and learn, and if you don’t learn from past mistakes, then you need to be drug out and shot.
R. Lee Ermey
Prologue
Sixteen Years Ago - The Willard-Intercontinental, Washington, DC
An elegant banquet room can entertain wedding guests for only so long—even with an open bar. After a while, they’ll start clamoring for the bride and groom to make their appearance so they can eat.
One hour after the bridal limousine had arrived, the one hundred and eighty guests became antsy.
“Kassandra, where the hell are they?” There was no hint of his usually good-natured tone in retired Police Captain Rod Pratt’s voice.
Without pause, the matron of honor continued cleaning up the mints her four-year-old daughter had spilled from the table’s centerpiece. “Dad, I told you. They’re freshening up.”
“Is that what they call it nowadays? Couldn’t they have had the decency to wait until after the reception, so their guests don’t starve to death?”
“Lou spilt his drink on Trevor’s shirt. He doesn’t want to look like a drunken mess in the reception pictures.”
“Figures,” Rod muttered. “Who invited Gannon anyway?”
“Kassandra said it would have been rude for Brie to have invited everyone in homicide except Lou,” a dark-haired detective by the name of Rico Sanchez said.
Rico’s wife Clarissa clutched his hand. “It was a mistake to invite everyone.”
“Hey, Kassandra, where’re the bride and groom?” An exceedingly slender woman in a red dress, Joan hurried to the table.
Joan’s husband, Detective Troy Underwood joined them. “The bartender is shutting down the open bar and guests are getting impatient.”
“Aren’t you worried?” Joan asked.
“About what?” Kassandra asked. “Brie is a homicide detective and Trevor is with vice. It isn’t like they can’t take care of themselves.”
“Trained law enforcement officers get killed all the time,” Clarissa said.
“Who said anything about anyone getting killed?” Underwood asked with a laugh. “They just got married. One only needs to use their imagination to conclude what’s taking them so long.”
“Trevor has been bragging to anyone and everyone about personally arresting Artemyev Yurievich’s grandson for running an identity theft ring,” Joan said. “The Yurievichs aren’t going to let some lowly detective in vice get away with something like that.”
“Joan’s right.” Scotch in hand, Captain Will Harrington joined them. No matter how closely he shaved, the veteran detective had a five o’clock shadow on his weathered face. The fine suit looked out of place on his battered frame. “I told Trevor to cut down on the boasting about that bust. The Yurievich family is not one to let this go without making an example of him.”
Kassandra shot a glance to where her thirteen-year-old niece twirled in her lovely rose-colored bridesmaid dress. Her auburn hair bounced to the rhythm of her dance.
“Gina looks so happy,” Joan said. “You have been such a good mother to her.”
“She looks just like her mother.” Catching his wife’s eye, Underwood looked to the floor.
“Gina is nothing like her mother,” Kassandra said.
“Have you talked to Brie since they got here?” Clarissa tapped Kassandra on the arm to capture her attention.
“I’m going to light a fire under them.” Rod shoved his way through the guests to exit into the lobby.
“No!” Kassandra grabbed him by the arm. After regaining her composure, she lowered her voice. “I’ll go.”
“I’ll come with you,” Underwood said, only to withdraw his offer after Joan elbowed him in the ribs.
“Most likely, they’re just getting an early start on their wedding night.” Harrington drained his glass. “Nothing to worry about.”
“But you just said Trevor was bragging too much about arresting Malykhin Yurievich,” Rod said, “and was gonna get himself killed.”
“That’s true,” Harrington said. “But what assassin in his right mind is going to walk into this hotel with wall to wall cops and detectives, go up to the bridal suite to kill two detectives, and then walk out?” With a chuckle, he sauntered away.
“That guy’s nuts,” Underwood muttered.
“That’s why he’s the best chief that vice ever had,” Rod said. “He’s half crazy.”
Kassandra disembarked the elevator and hurried to the end of the corridor. Figures that self-centered bitch would forget about her wedding guests. Always thinking about herself. Never thinks about Gina—her own daughter. Abandons her until it becomes convenient for her to take her away from me.
By the time she reached the end of the hall, she had worked her way up to a full fury. She pounded on the door with her fist.
“Brie! Open up! Dad is worried sick, and your wedding guests are hungry.”
The answer was silence.
She pounded on the door again. “Brie! I’m getting mad!” She let out a breath and waited.
A door opened across the hall. “Do you have to pound so loud on the door?” A woman dressed in a negligee peered through the crack of the open door. Judging by the lines on her face and messed hair, Kassandra concluded she had awakened her. “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, huh, Sweetie?”
“As a matter of fact, I have been a bride,” Kassandra said. “My husband was killed at the Pentagon last year.”
The slick grin fell from the woman’s face. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” Kassandra felt as bad as the woman. She gestured at the locked door. “My sister is the bride. The guests at the reception are hungry.”
The woman’s eyes grew wide. “And they just got married?”
“The open bar has closed.” With her fist, Kassandra knocked on the door.
“The way the champagne corks were popping a bit ago, I think they’re having their own party.”
“Champagne corks?” Kassandra caught her breath. “Oh, no!” She pounded on the door with both fists.
Seconds later, the woman was at her side. She had shrugged into a silky robe that kept slipping off her thin shoulders. “Excuse me.” She unlocked the door with a keycard.
“Where did you get that? Is it a master key?”
“Don’t ask any questions, Sweetie.” She swung the door open for her to enter. “You never saw me.” She trotted back to her room.
Kassandra rushed into the suite and uttered a blood curdling scream.
The chief of the homicide division, Captain Sheldon Jeffries met Lieutenant Mac Faraday, an investigator from the major crimes unit, at the hotel’s front entrance. Together, the two men crossed the lobby furnished in granite and marble.
“Bet this was the last place you expected to be tonight.”
“That goes without saying.” Seeing the guests in formal attire, Mac felt underdressed in his suit. “Considering the victims and witnesses, I’ll expect this crime scene to be contained.” He followed Captain Jeffries onto the elevator.
The police captain pressed the button. “The hotel was put on immediate lock down and crime scene tape was in place before the uniforms arrived.”
“This wasn’t necessarily an outside job.” Mac slipped his hands into a pair of evidence gloves. The silence in the elevator prompted him to look over at the man who had been his supervisor only the year before. “Most homicides are committed by someone the victim knew. Detectives Polk and Pratt invited everyone to this wedding.” He leveled his gaze at him. “We can’t ignore the fact that some of them are viable suspects—including members of your team.”
The elevator doors opened to a corridor filled with detectives and police officers clad in tuxedos and cocktail dresses. Each one wore evidence gloves and paper booties.
“Well, if it isn’t Faraday from major crimes,” a short tubby man with a bald head and a goatee said upon seeing Mac step off the elevator. “About time you decided to lower yourself to join the party.” His round rimless eyeglasses were yellowed from cigarette smoke.
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Gannon,” Detective Dani Derringer said over her shoulder before leading Mac to the bridal suite. The evidence gloves she wore were in sharp contrast to her rose silk bridesmaid dress. She had ditched her high heels for paper booties.
The short detective followed Mac so closely that he could smell the stench of cigarettes in his clothes. “It isn’t like there’s any big mystery as to who did it. Brie was a favorite in homicide. By favorite, I mean she slept with every detective in the division—”
“Except you, Gannon,” Detective Derringer said.
“As a matter of fact, Faraday, didn’t you have her first? How did it feel watching a fine piece of ass like—”
Gannon was cut off by Mac’s hand wrapped around his throat. None of their colleagues stepped in when Mac pinned Detective Gannon against the wall. “Brie was a smart, talented detective—better than you ever will be. No matter what she’s done in the past, she did not deserve to be murdered, and she does not deserve to be disrespected—especially by the likes of you. Do you understand me, Gannon? Nod your head if you understand.”
His face red, Gannon nodded his head. Mac released his grip and the detective fell to the floor. Dani and Mac ducked under the crime scene tape to step into the suite.
“It’s really bad,” she warned Mac while he slipped paper booties on over his shoes to preserve any evidence on the floor.
&nb
sp; The newlyweds were sprawled on the floor, the carpeting soaked with blood from the multiple bullet wounds in their bodies.
There was a path of blood smeared from where Brie had crawled on her stomach to grasp Trevor’s hand in hers before taking her last breath. A champagne flute was clasped in the other hand.
Detectives Brie Pratt and Trevor Polk had been one of the most attractive couples that anyone would expect to meet. He had bulging muscles on his arms and chest.
She had the figure of a swimsuit model, which she displayed in a sheer mermaid wedding gown—stained red. Even in death, she was so young, so beautiful. It was the ultimate waste of a human life.
“Mac,” Dani asked in a soft voice, “are you going to be—”
“Yes, I’m fine,” he said while smoothing the evidence gloves on his hands. “You need to wait downstairs with everyone else, Derringer. Make sure Gannon goes with you.”
“Brie was my partner.”
“And you were here in the hotel at the time of the murder,” Mac said.
“You don’t know—”
She gestured at her rose-colored gown. “You were one of her bridesmaids.”
“Yes, and I was downstairs at the reception with Harrington and—”
“You’re a suspect, Derringer. Until eliminated, everyone here tonight is.”
“I contained the scene for you.”
“Which I’m sure our killer’s defense attorney will make good use of when we find the bastard.” Mac pointed in the direction of the door. “Out.”
Dani stood her ground. “Look, Mac, this case isn’t like the big high-profile cases that you’ve been getting in major crimes. You knew Brie—”
“I trained her when she first came to homicide.”
“And I know you noticed before leaving homicide that she and I were not the closest of partners,” she said. “I’ll admit it. She wasn’t my best friend. As a matter of fact, we weren’t even friends. She was a manipulative little bitch, who stabbed me in the back. Despite that, she was my partner. No one kills my partner and gets away with it. So, you can take me on as your partner in this case, or you can ditch me and have me shadowing you everywhere you go until let me in.” She eyed him with dark unblinking eyes.