Blood Stains (18 page)

During the first investigation, Frank McCall had been lead detective and he’d confiscated Tank Vincent’s “little black book.” Unfortunately, Franklin’s name had been in there and McCall had recognized it—had known he was a lawyer hungry for the big time and figured he would pay money to make it go away. It had cost Sheets five thousand dollars he hadn’t had at the time, but it had been worth it for his name not to be associated with a hooker—especially a dead one—in any way. McCall had made his name, Tank’s and the little black book all go away, dead-ending the case and leaving Franklin’s own future an open book just waiting to be written.

He didn’t know where that little black book had ended up, but certainly couldn’t afford to let his name come up in any kind of a murder case—especially not now. However, at this point, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about it. What he did know was that he didn’t want an ex-cop on the case any longer. If this went bad, he didn’t need a man with a conscience pointing the cops toward the fact that Franklin Sheets was having Maria tailed.

“No, there’s no further need,” Franklin said. “I thought her presence was pertinent to a client I’m representing, but I was completely mistaken. Just send me what you have, along with your bill.”

Ed frowned. He’d been a cop too long not to pick up the tension in Sheets’ voice, but he was more than happy to end this surveillance. He knew Bodie Scott. Bodie wouldn’t like it that he’d been tailed, especially if he and the Slade woman were working a case.

“Will do,” Ed said, and disconnected.

Satisfied that this job was over, he started his car and drove away.

Franklin’s stomach was in knots. He didn’t know what the P.D. had, but as a lawyer, he knew it took more than the wish of a surviving family member to reopen a cold case. There had to be new evidence. Something was out there that he didn’t yet know about, but he would find out. He had to, or the house of cards he’d built around himself could very easily come tumbling down.

Maria’s breakfast tray was still on the table where she’d eaten. The coffee cup she’d carried back to bed was near the phone, the contents long since gone cold. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a pillow for a table, reading from the journal again. She kept hoping that something she’d read before would suddenly make sense now that she’d come back to the proverbial “scene of the crime.” But so far, all it had done was make her sad for what she’d lost.

I saw you every day during the time I was at the Hampton Arms. Sometimes you were with your babysitter, Becky Thurman, and sometimes you were with your mother. Your clothes were always clean, and your hair was always shiny and neat. I think you were a very happy child. I know you were bubbly and outgoing, not like you are now. You grew up a very guarded person, which is understandable, but I have grieved for the person you might have become, as much as I grieve for your mother’s death. In a sense, you both died that night. Your rebirth came about out of necessity and a child’s resilience.

Maria slammed the journal shut and then tossed it aside. It felt as if she’d been up forever, but it was just after eight o’clock. Inactivity was making her restless. Back at the ranch, there would be a hundred things to do and never enough time to complete them. Here, she was in limbo, wanting to right a wrong, but unable to recall what it would take to do it.

She got up from the bed and strode to the windows. Last night’s storm had passed, but the sky was dark and threatening rain again. Even if she’d been in the mood, this wasn’t the day to go sightseeing. She hadn’t heard from Detective Scott and remembered Becky Clemmons would be at work. Then she wondered what was happening back home, and thought of Bud and went for her phone. She only remembered the time difference after it started to ring at the other end. It was an hour earlier in Montana than it was here in Oklahoma. She hoped he was still in the house.

Bud answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Bud, hope I didn’t wake you.”

He snorted lightly. “Woman…you know better than that. I’m on my third cup of coffee and wading through these blasted invoices. I miss Savannah. This is usually her job. Truth be told, I miss all of you something fierce. It’s too damned quiet in this house.”

“I miss being there, too,” Maria said.

“So how’s it going there?”

“Yesterday the detective and I talked to the man who used to be Sally’s pimp. I also found out that the woman who used to babysit me was his sister.”

“Did you recognize either of them?”

“No.”

Bud heard the frustration in her voice. “Look, honey. You’ve suppressed that stuff for twenty years. It’s not like it’s going to just pop back into your head just because you’re back in Oklahoma. I’m sure everything, including the people, all looks different.”

“I know you’re right, but the bottom line is, if I don’t remember, the case goes cold again and someone still gets away with murder.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but you’re not giving yourself a break. I have faith in you, girl. Of all Andrew’s girls, you are the one who doesn’t know how to quit.”

Maria’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you for the pep talk.”

“You’re welcome. I love you, sugar. Take care, and call me whenever.”

“I love you, too, Bud. Thanks for always being there.”

“Just get through and come home,” he said.

“I will.”

She disconnected, then laid her phone on the bed and headed for the bathroom. She needed to get out of this funk, and the only thing she could think to do was get moving. There had to be a shopping mall in the area. She could walk and look, and eat lunch somewhere besides here in the hotel. She grabbed the phone book, and leafed through the yellow pages until she found a listing for Woodland Hills Mall on 71st and Memorial. She stripped off her sweats and headed for the shower, even as it started to rain—again.

The rain was coming down in earnest by the time Maria reached the mall. She found a parking spot very close to one of the entrances, and thought about sitting in the car and waiting for the rain to subside, then decided she would rather be inside killing time than sitting in the car feeling sorry for herself again. God knew she’d been wet plenty of times before. It wasn’t going to hurt her now.

She locked the door behind her as she got out, then bolted across the drive. The exhilaration of trying to outrun the rain had her laughing as she reached the covered walkway leading into the mall. She swiped water from her face, shook back her hair and slid the strap of her shoulder bag a little higher up on her shoulder, then strode into the mall. The immediate scents of a nearby food court, coupled with the piped-in music and the rumble of voices, were already lifting her spirits.

Straight in front of her was an escalator leading to the second floor and the source of all those delicious smells. Deciding to leave eating for later, she started walking slowly, eyeing window displays and people, watching when the opportunity occurred. A man was standing near a stairwell with a clipboard in his hand, trying to make eye contact and talk someone into participating in his survey. When he saw her coming, he smiled and started toward her, then almost stumbled as he stopped and changed his mind.

Maria glanced at her reflection as she passed by a store and then frowned. No wonder he backed off. As Bud would have said, she looked like she was ready to whip someone’s ass. If she was so uptight, it stood to reason that she wasn’t remembering anything. Then she reminded herself that she’d come here to kill time, not to start a war, and made herself relax.

As she continued down the promenade, she began smelling spices, then realized she was approaching a candle shop and remembered seeing decorative candles in Becky Clemmons’ home. She was going to have to go back there when Becky got her mother’s things out of storage, and while it wasn’t quite the occasion for a hostess gift, Becky was going out of her way to help. A token of appreciation might be nice.

She went inside, and soon got lost in the myriad number of shapes and sizes, not to mention the array of scents from which to choose. Finally she settled on a fat white one in a silver stand. The scent was white cotton—a clean, crisp scent that reminded Maria of clothes drying outdoors on a line. She exited the store with a lighter heart and a slower stride, the small gift bag dangling on her arm.

A few stores farther along, she noticed a trio of young black men coming toward her. They were laughing and bumping against each other as they walked. Within moments she realized she knew one of them—Tyrell, the teen from the John 3:16 Mission. And it didn’t take long for her to see Tyrell recognized her, too. What did surprise her was that when they came abreast, he stopped.

“Hey, lady.”

Maria smiled. “Hey, Tyrell, did you already forget my name?”

He grinned. “Maria. I ain’t forgettin’ nothin’.”

“How’s Preacher Henry?”

Tyrell’s friends were eyeing him curiously, a little taken aback that he was bothering with this woman.

Tyrell gave them a look, which sent them moving along.

“He’s good,” he said.

“You tell him I said hello, will you?”

Tyrell nodded his head. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Your friends are going to go off without you,” Maria said.

He grinned. “Nah…they’re ridin’ with me. They ain’t goin’ nowhere unless they’re wantin’ to walk.”

She laughed.

Tyrell shifted from foot to foot, as if a little embarrassed, then jumped right into what he needed to say.

“Hey, lady…what you did for the mission…that was real good of you.”

“Maria. My name is Maria.”

“Yeah, okay. Maria. What you did was big. Real big. Preacher Henry ain’t been that happy in a long time.”

“My daddy was a preacher, too. I’m glad it helped.”

“Yeah. Well. I just wanted to say thanks.”

“Then you’re welcome. You take care, okay?” Maria said.

“You, too, lady.”

“Not lady…
Maria
.”

He laughed, and then he was gone.

Maria’s heart was even lighter as she began to retrace her steps back down the promenade toward the escalator. It was almost two o’clock, and she was hungry, so she headed up to the food court.

A short while later she was digging into a plate of egg rolls and broccoli-chicken stir-fry from the Chinese eatery. A young woman with two small children was sitting at a nearby table. The kids were digging through Happy Meal boxes from McDonald’s, while the mother was tackling an order of chili cheese fries. The children were talking and eating and playing with their toys. Their mother’s smile as she listened was both complacent and proud. Maria couldn’t help but wonder if there had been times like this between her and her own mother, and wondered what their lives would have been like now if her mother hadn’t been murdered.

Before she could think herself into another funk, her cell phone rang. She quickly swallowed, checked the caller ID and smiled as she answered.

“Hello.”

“It’s me,” Bodie said, as he leaned back in his chair and pushed a desk drawer shut with his boot.

“Hi, me.”

He grinned. “What are you doing?”

“Eating stir-fry and egg rolls at the food court at Woodland Hills.”

“Yum. So…you’ve been shopping.”

“Not so much. Just looking for a way to kill time. I’m not good at sitting around and waiting. Do you have anything new to tell me?”

“Not pertaining to the case,” Bodie said. “But I wondered if you would like to have dinner with me tonight. It’ll be close to eight before I can get away. If that’s too late just—”

“How rude. First invite me out to eat and then start making excuses for why I shouldn’t accept.”

He grinned again. This attitude was exactly why he wanted to see her again.

“So are you saying you’ll go?”

“That’s six hours from now. I’m pretty sure I’ll be hungry again by then, and I suppose I can squeeze in a little time for you.”

He laughed out loud, then frowned when Dave pointed at him from across the room and grinned. He lowered his voice and swiveled his chair away from Dave’s line of sight.

“I’ll pick you up at your room around eight o’clock.”

“Why don’t I just watch for you from the lobby? When you pull up in the breezeway, I’ll come out, and you won’t have to park the car.”

“Yeah, sure…whatever,” Bodie said.

“Where are we going to eat?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Do I have to dress up? Tell me now, because I’m at the mall and I didn’t bring any dressy clothes with me.”

“It’s a nice place, but not crystal-and-china nice. Just really good food.”

“Okay. I can handle that. See you later, then.”

“Yeah. Later,” he said, and was still smiling when he hung up. When he turned around, Dave was leaning against his desk.

“Who’s the woman?”

Bodie frowned. “None of your damned business.”

Dave arched an eyebrow. “Dang. You usually share info. What’s up with this one?”

“She’s not for sharing,” Bodie said.

From the moment Becky Clemmons got to work and sat down in her chair, she was on the job. There was no time to think about Mary’s unexpected return or Sally’s belongings, which she’d promised to get out of storage. As always, the weather had an impact on the calls that came in, and when it started raining, the number of wrecks and fender benders went up. By the time her shift was over, she was tired, but the adrenaline was still racing. The storage company wasn’t far from her house, and she had a good two hours before it would get dark. Even though it was still raining, she couldn’t get the task out of her mind. The sooner she got the boxes, the quicker she would see Mary again.

And hopefully whatever was in those boxes would be the trigger Maria needed to remember what she’d seen.

Thirteen

T
he rain had abated by the time Bodie left for the hotel to pick Maria up. As soon as he pulled beneath the breezeway, she came out, smiling at the doorman who held the door. She was wearing a pair of dark pants and a pink knit top beneath a light gray jacket, but he smiled when he saw her shoes. She was still wearing boots. A woman after his own heart.