Dead Women Tell No Lies (30 page)

“Rose?”

“A.J.?” The breath left her, and perspiration dampened her hands.

“It’s me. Can you talk?”

“Sure.” She sank into a kitchen chair, running a hand through her hair.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I couldn’t. It hurt too much, but I just heard about Cassie.” The fuzzy connection crackled in her ear for a second. “A.J., are you there?”

“I’m here. I can’t believe what’s happened. I thought Dahlia stayed away to sulk over our breakup and the shoplifting arrest. I never thought she’d…If I’d talked to her…maybe she’d be alive today.”

“She’s gone, A.J.” Rose’s voice came out hoarse. “Someone killed her and Cassie.” Rose tightened her sweaty grip on the phone.

“I saw the news about Cassie on YouTube. One person murdered them both?”

“What do you mean?” Rose sat up straight. “Cassie’s murder is on YouTube?”

“Not the actual murder. Someone put up an interview of the detective working on the case.”

“Was it Detective Lennox?”

“He’s the one. The poster wrote if you play his speech backwards you can learn the name of the killer.”

“What a joke, I heard Lennox’s speech. No way had he planted a hidden message in a video.” She grabbed her laptop and scooted the screen in front of her. “How do I find the site? This is sick. Who posted it?”

“Don’t get worked up. The poster was named Sure Lock. That must be a clue about him.”

“Yeah, he lacks imagination.”

“How are you, Rose? Are they close to arresting someone? Any suspects rounded up?”

Was he fishing for how close they were to arresting
him
? “A.J., where are you? I want to see you.”

“I’m fine, Rose. Seeing you again would be hard. You understand with all the memories of Dahlia and you being twins.”

“A.J., I’m worried. I need to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t. It’s too hard right now. I keeping asking myself why would someone kill Dahlia? I can’t believe she’s gone. I…I loved her.”

“A.J. we need to get together. Where are—”

Pounding on her door jerked her attention away from the conversation. “Hold on.” She lowered the phone. “Who is it?”

“Frank.”

“Wait a minute.” She returned to A.J. “Tell me where you are. I’ll meet you.”

“I’ll phone again when we can talk. Bye, Rose.”

“No, don’t hang—” Dead air hummed in her ears.

Rose tossed the phone down and shoved to her feet. She unlocked her door and swung it wide. “How did you get inside?”

“Having a bad day, Rosie?”

“Sorry, Frank. I’m glad you came.” She stood aside to let him pass. “But how did you get in?”

“I have my illegal ways, and I ran into Luke at the door. He let me in. We exchanged secret passwords and then I came up.”

She drew the dead bolt.

“I called your phone, but it rang and went to voicemail.”

“A.J. called me.”

Frank slammed to a halt by the table. “Edwards? Where is he?”

“I don’t know. We talked for a few seconds, and he hung up. I didn’t get a chance to find out where he was. He told me someone named Sure Lock uploaded Lennox’s interview about Cassie’s death to YouTube and told people to play his words backwards to learn the name of the killer.”

“Sounds like garbage. Can you bring up the number of the last caller?”

“Sure I can with a little presto change-o.” She hit the redial button and a recording informed her A.J. was out of the reception area. “No luck at the moment,” she said to Frank. “I’ll try again later, but here’s his number.”

Frank punched the digits into his key pad and tucked his phone in his pocket. “Let’s take a look at YouTube.” He leaned over and dragged the laptop across the table to him.

“The Chief returned and called Lennox to the station. Do you think he’s in trouble because of the video?”

“Play the interview, Rose, and we’ll find out.”

* * *

Luke sat across from the Chief in his office. For a busy man, the boss’s desk and small space were neat and organized, not a paper clip out of place. The older man stared at Luke. His thin lips disappeared inward, a tip off to the tone of their meeting.

He’d skip the niceties of inquiring about the Chief’s vacation and his daughter’s wedding. “You must want a report on the Blue and Smith homicides.”

“Save it.” The Chief opened up a laptop resting on the desktop, hit a few keys and shoved the monitor around until the screen faced Luke.

“You’re watching YouTube? I never look at the stuff.” Luke raised his brows, and waited for the boss to explain.

“This isn’t up for an Oscar.” The Chief clicked on the square black screen, and Luke viewed himself speaking to the reporter the night of Cassie Raymond’s death.

When the video finished, the Chief hit the sleep command. “I don’t care what you did in the big city, but in Ledgeview, no one gives public interviews without clearing them with me first. From now on, no comment are the only two words reporters will hear from your mouth.”

“Yes, sir.”

The older man’s thick brows drew together into one line. “The Mayor called me this morning, and it wasn’t to offer congratulations. He said the news of the last homicide is stirring up a panic in the streets.”

“Panic in the streets? Do I live in the same city?”

“Save the sarcasm, Lennox. The Mayor wants results, and he wants them yesterday. He’s put the press off but knows sooner than later he needs to make a public statement. He wants to announce we’re arresting a suspect when he declares he’ll run for a second term.”

“We’re working on it.”

The Chief waved away Luke’s answer. “Anyone can see through the language you used in the last interview. We’ve nothing, and it stinks like month old salami.” He ran a hand over his thinning, brown hair and patted it down. “And the nonsense about playing your interview backwards to reveal the name of the killer is the biggest piece of bull this year.”

“What?” Luke bent forward. “I outted the murderer online? Who was it?”

“Glad you can joke, Lennox. Your sense of humor can help you on the unemployment line, which is where we’ll be if you don’t make an arrest.” The Chief opened his desk drawer and drew out a white bottle. He unscrewed the cap and gulped a swallow. Then he slammed the drawer shut, leaving the bottle on his desktop. “Let’s talk about where we are and where we’re going with the investigations.”

“Yes, sir.” Luke reviewed their progress and his plan to head to Vermont to interview everyone connected to Cassie Raymond. “A.J. Edwards is the main person of interest in both homicides. The victims and suspect were friends who lived in the same city. The first victim was engaged to Edwards and the second woman killed was her best friend. I’ve put out an ATL for him. We haven’t received a response yet. I believe he’s circulating between Vermont and New Hampshire with a possibility of holding a job in Rhode Island.”

“Sounds like a lot of traveling, but possible. What about the attack in the garage involving Dean Drown’s future daughter-in-law?”

“The garage could be an isolated occurrence. She didn’t give us much of a description of the assailant, and she doesn’t have a connection to Edwards.”

“We could have a copycat in the second homicide.” The Chief grabbed a piece of paper from the top of his desk. “Twenty hours of overtime from our uniforms to search The Ledges plus Major Crime did a sweep. What was the tip that led you there in the first place?”

“Research on the river conditions such as current, water level and location of Dahlia Blue’s body when she washed up led us to believe she entered the waterway at The Ledges.”

The Chief nodded. “At least I’ve answers about the budget for the search.”

“And Rose Blue reports she’s psychically in contact with her twin, the first victim, and identified The Ledges as the primary site.”

The Chief sat back in his chair and stared at him in silence.

He was letting him sweat.

“Alibi?”

“Rose Blue worked every day until seven. We’ve collaboration from several business people who work on Main Street. We verified her car was sitting in a local garage the week of the murder waiting for a part, and she begged rides from friends to search for her sister. Customers and phone records established she was at her store or looking for her twin during the time the murder occurred. Several local business employees stand by their statements that she was in their establishments during the time window of the murder going door to door with flyers. So far nothing indicates she benefits from the murder emotionally or financially.”

“I’ve read the new ME’s report. We could be off on the time of death. Keep Rose Blue on the radar. She might have hated her twin despite what she says. She knew Edwards, I take it?”

An uncomfortable lump grew in Luke’s throat. “She did, but there’s no evidence of co-conspiracy between Edwards and Miss Blue. In fact, he most likely is stalking her for his next victim.”

The Chief leaned back in his chair. “I’ve investigated a lot of frauds in my life, Lennox. Many of them claimed to be into this psychic malarkey. I’ve yet to meet a real one. Keep the woman under close surveillance. Sooner or later, we’ll learn if she’s a con, an intended target or both. We don’t want another death.”

“I believe the sister’s been truthful. If you want proof, there was the TV show based on the real life psychic who helped police in Texas.”

“More BS I don’t watch.” The Chief sucked in his cheeks, a sign of his disapproval. “If the sister goes public with her so-called special abilities to the press, we’ll contend with more problems than the full-of-crap play-it-backwards nonsense. Knowing reporters, your quotes will be the opening for the six o’clock news. Forget the no comment statement. Don’t open your mouth when the media is around. I will attend all press conferences.”

Luke tightened his lips. He needed to prove himself immediately. “I’m on my way to Vermont and then to Rhode Island.”

“Get every name from Edward’s high school class. Have Conroy canvass the retailers around the parking garage again. Work together. I don’t need any lone-wolf hero antics, Lennox. Find out how or if the two cases tie-in. Keep on the twin sister.”

Together was the key word that caught Luke’s attention. “No problem, Frank Ricci took a little trip to Rhode Island and obtained the yearbook and background information on Edwards.”

“Frank?”

“He’s working on his own, no pay.”

“Keep him away from the case, beginning now. This is not an investigation for retired detectives who play games with plastic men. If he’s a source, describe him as one, but nothing else. Got it?”

“Gotten, but he’s capable and—”

“I want him far away from our investigation.” The Chief’s face reddened. “We’re under the microscope. We can’t afford a mistake, and I can’t explain one made by a man who’s not even on the force. How would his involvement look to outsiders? If Frank made a break in the case, the anti tax group will want to cut our department and fill it with senior volunteers.”

Luke bit back the urge to contradict the analysis of Frank’s situation.

The Chief drummed his fingers on the desk. “Did your source interview anyone from the suspect’s yearbook?”

“He talked with the school secretary, who gave us history on A.J.’s family and an ex girlfriend. We followed up with an interview of the prior girlfriend who swore A.J. never abused her or other women.”

“Neither did most of the serial killers we’ve put away. Most of their girlfriends are in denial and will protest the monsters’ innocence while they sit convicted, waiting for the juice to light up their chairs. What’s the family background?”

“A.J. Edward’s father was an accountant for a car dealership and embezzled from it. While his parent was imprisoned, A.J. and his mom lived with his uncle, a mechanic. His mother worked low wage jobs and moved around a lot. She finally abandoned him at his uncle’s. The mother and uncle are now deceased. We’re trying to locate the uncle’s daughter, Edwards’ cousin. They were once close and she may know where he’d go.”

“Edwards grew up in a family where a role model was a thief.” The Chief shook his head. “What are you waiting for? Get on it.”

Luke scrambled to his feet.

“Remember, I hired you because of your experience and recommendations. Don’t make me regret it. Confidence in oneself is good, but overconfidence leads to mistakes. Solve the case with your men. Now.”

“I will, sir. We’ll get our killer.” The Chief’s assessment of his personality grated on his nerves. He fought the urge to argue. “One more thing before I go. While you were gone, the Mayor approved a tip line that’s running with volunteers and a donated reward for information leading to arrest and conviction specifically in the Blue homicide. I nominated Mike Conroy to head it.”

“I’d prefer we gather tips for both homicides through our lines, but as long as we pay nothing toward it, I’m in favor of it. Conroy can gather the information from the volunteers on his free time. What are you waiting for, Lennox? Need a tip to go back to work?”

“No, sir, but Chief, I’m going on record as saying Rose Blue didn’t kill her sister, and I’ll prove it by arresting the person who did.”