Dead Women Tell No Lies (36 page)

“Do you think he’d be truthful?” Frank asked.

“I’ve always hoped the A.J. I knew will appear and I can believe him.” Frank was right. A.J. was probably more concerned with escaping arrest now.

“Are you all right?” Frank was staring at her.

“Sure,” she lied. A.J.’s begging whirled in her mind and added to her confusion. She knew one thing for sure. She’d never be okay.

Frank escorted her home where Rose assured him she’d be fine. Another lie, she thought.

Throwing her a look of concern, he left.

She kicked off her shoes and sank onto the sleeper. Lennox’s appearance out of the dark and their last angry words at the Audi played in her mind. No, she had to focus on A.J. She replayed every scene with him and her sister through her head, trying to detect a nuance she’d missed, a signal between them that they truly loved each other, but beyond smiles and teasing glances, she found nothing.

Her head hurt. She closed her eyes tight.

He wants you, Rose. I can’t stop him. Go home. Run.

She shot up in bed. Sweat soaked her blouse. “Dahlia?” She threw the blanket aside and swung her stocking feet to the floor. She focused on the light from the kitchen spilling into the room. She’d fallen asleep.

Whack!

She jumped at the smack against the window pane and whirled around, expecting a ski masked figure outside her window. Her heart pummeled in her ears. Instead, only the invisible wind and rain banged against the glass. Swallowing, she searched the room. No signs of an intruder.

She crossed the floor to the coffeemaker and flicked the switch before sinking into a kitchen chair. She might as well do something since she wasn’t about to sleep. She turned on her laptop. While it whirled to life, she leaned her head in her hands and pictured Luke Lennox swooping out of the darkness to arrest A.J. He’d staked her out like she was a co-conspirator. And she’d slept with him. Idiot. She mentally slapped her forehead.

Well, what did she expect? He was committed to his job, not to her. She was the dumb one. For a short time, she’d secretly hoped they might have a future together. They’d have what she’s always wanted, a real family. No more looking through photo albums and imagining she had one. No more Dahlia pointing out strange men and whispering, “Do you think he’s our dad? We have the same nose.”

But, Rose had been lying to herself. A hearth and home were not in her future. Okay, she’d handle it. Lennox solved her sister’s murder. Their relationship was at an end. She should move home and drive back for the trial. Reopen her shop. Go on without Dahlia.

Dahlia. How could her twin do what Lennox told her and post her actions on the internet? Images of men with whips standing over a scantily clad Dahlia hurled into her mind. Had she had sex with these men? They weren’t paying to just playact.

The realizations hurt her stomach. “Why Dahlia? Why couldn’t you be happy with our boutique? Why did you have to do those things?”

Dahlia didn’t answer, but it didn’t matter. Her sister had led another life, and Rose had learned one thing from this tragedy. Love definitely wasn’t worth putting yourself out there. She needed a drink. Forget the coffee. Wasn’t there wine in the cabinet? She found the alcohol and reached for a glass. No, she’d drink straight from the bottle.

* * *

Conroy strolled into Luke’s cubicle, stopped and rapped on his desk where he was studying Edwards’ timeline. “What’s up?” Luke asked, glancing at Conroy. The man never showed up when morning meetings were planned.

“Why don’t you ask the voodoo woman?”

“What?”

“The sister of our victim, Dahlia Blue, she claims to see dead people. Ask her to talk to the victim’s ghost and find out what’s happening.”

“Where’d you hear that rumor?”

“You’re back in Ledgeview now, Lennox. We don’t keep secrets from each other. Everyone knows you’re under her I-See-Dead-People influence.”

“What do you want Conroy?”

The man handed him a file. “I’ve the interviews with the bank employees next door to the parking garage where Shauna Smith was allegedly attacked.”

Luke felt the prick of curiosity followed by annoyance. “You finally finished? How long have you held onto them?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He dropped the file on the desk and left.

Luke repressed a retort, threw open the folder and read. In the middle of the first page, the sentence stood up and waved to him.

“Conroy.”

The detective reappeared in the cubby opening. “Practicing your beck and call voice?”

“Read these three lines.” Luke held out the page and pointed to the place on the paper. “It’s from the bank supervisor, who stepped out for a smoke.

“It was the end of the night, and the employees had just left. I needed a cigarette before I went home and stepped outside. I didn’t see or hear anything.” Conroy handed it back.

Luke thumbed through the folders until he found the file he wanted. He threw it open and skimmed the report for a second. “Now read this line from Shauna Smith.”

“I was screaming and running for my life.” Conroy lowered the sheet.

Luke leveled his gaze on him. “The bank’s next door to the garage.”

“I’ll re-interview the supervisor about the evening.”

“Shauna exited the bank five minutes after seven. She was exact on the time.” Someone was lying or suffering from a bad memory. “Re-interview everyone. If Shauna Smith was screaming in an area of the downtown, we’d expect one witness.”

After Conroy left, Luke returned to his paperwork. He’d wasted no time finding a judge to issue a warrant for the casino’s video. One of his men was on his way to pick up the tape. He sat back in his chair and reviewed his first theory. A.J. Edwards convinced Dahlia Blue he loved her because he perceived her as a girl who wanted everyone to like her, and she was willing to go. Now A.J. wanted Luke to believe he’d identified with his down-and-out cousin’s son and ran the porno business to earn money for the kid. If the story was for real, then maybe this was the part of him that Rose and Dahlia had first seen. Luke threw down his pen on the desk.

He rummaged through the desktop files and opened up Frank’s aged personal notes on the North Conway murder. The information was similar to his dad’s. He flipped to the next page and stopped. The handwriting on the page was his father’s. They’d shared notes and ideas so it wasn’t preposterous that a sheet had gotten mixed in.

Luke read through the lines. Nothing was new except the town North Conway was underlined several times. He’d keep that idea in the back of his mind. He shut the file.
Stop procrastinating and move onto the next item on the agenda, Rose.

He’d let his guard down and become emotionally involved with her. He’d made a mistake. He didn’t possess the qualities women wanted—time and devotion to love them above all else. A repeat of his painful, failed marriage was the last thing he wanted.

He picked up the desk phone. This was a call he dreaded, but the chief had insisted. He pushed the numbers.

“Rose Blue. Leave a message.”

“Hello, Rose. We—”

“Lenn–ox,” Rose answered, sounding breathless. “Are you still pressing the charges against A.J.? Did he give you any explanations or new information about my sister?”

“A.J. confessed he used your sister for an illegal online business venture. He claimed to have given part of the profits to his cousin who was homeless.” When Rose didn’t respond, he pressed on. “He’s still under arrest for your sister’s death. That hasn’t changed.”

“Did A.J. admit to Dahlia and Cassie’s murders?”

Luke ground out, “No. We’re tracking down the cousin and the alibi story at the moment.”

“What was their business?”

He heard the hope in her voice and hesitated for a second. “He was into pornography like we thought. The site’s been disbanded. He was putting together a new one when he was taken into custody. I’m sorry, Rose. Remember you’re not responsible for Dahlia. She was a consenting adult.”

“You don’t understand, Lennox.”

“Explain it.”

“If A.J. is the killer, and he was caught, why did I dream that she wants me to leave because her murderer is still out there?”

Frustration stretched his nerves. How could he get through to her? “Rose, they’re dreams, not reality.

A long pause told him she didn’t like his answer. “I’ll be at the trial. Bye, Lennox.”

“Wait.” He ran a hand through his overgrown hair. “We’d like you to come down to the station to speak to our psychiatrist.”

“You think I’m crazy?”

This was as bad as he’d thought. The pressure in his chest grew. “I don’t. The defense may try to use you at A.J.’s trial. We want to provide proof you’re legally sane. Our psychiatrist can speak to you this afternoon at four.”

“Fine.” She hung up.

Damn. He clicked off the phone. He’d call her back. What should he say? He drummed his fingertips on the desk, seeking the right words. What the hell were they?

His phone buzzed.

“Detective Lennox,” the station’s desk clerk spoke to him. “I’ve a Mr. Lorenzo who’d like to speak to you about the Shauna Smith case. He asked for you by name.”

“All right, I’ll set up a meeting.” Within seconds, they agreed to meet at two.

“I’ll be here,” Luke said and hung up. Mr. Lorenzo, I hope you’re not a waste of my time. The man was full of hints and insisted he needed to speak in person with Luke about the evening.

He flipped open a file and began to re read his notes, waiting for his mind to automatically connect all the lose threads in the Dahlia Blue case. Five minutes later, he stopped. The pieces refused to join together. He had the M.E,’s best estimate for Dahlia Blue’s hour of death. He had Rose’s statement with the last times she’d seen her sister physically. The problem would be if A.J. Edwards’ alibi for the day and night proved true. They’d need to scramble to prove he committed the murder on another day. They also had nothing concrete to connect him to the murder. No DNA, no witnesses for the night of the murder besides the version Rose offered. The whole case could fall apart.

But his bigger problem was Rose. He believed her, but what would the shrink say? They had their own biases. Rose’s hurt voice echoed in his mind.

Concentrate on the pieces.
No witnesses came forward to support Shauna’s story and now what would Mr. Lorenzo add?

He stared at the phone, wanting to push Rose’s number and restore her good faith in him. He couldn’t do it sitting at his desk. What would his father do? Luke knew what he’d say.

Look at all the angles.

He strode out the rear door and past the reporter at the corner taking a cigarette break. Once he jumped into Old Charger, his confidence grew. He maneuvered by the media vans with their satellite dishes. He glanced in the mirror. No press followed. To be sure, he’d take the long way up to The Ledges.

He dug out his sunglasses to shade his eyes against the bright sun. The air had warmed to a balmy fifty-five degrees. On instinct he drove to the Audi and asked for Myra.

Horace led him to a tiny closet where Myra sat at a spic and span desk, frowning over a sheet of paper. She started to rise, but Luke gestured for her to sit.

“I heard about the big arrest behind the Audi last night,” she said. “Everyone was hoping someone saw it and could fill us in.”

“I didn’t want to upstage Dean’s night, but today, I need your help.” He pulled up

Edward’s picture on his phone and held it out to her. “Have you seen Mr. Edwards anywhere near the Audi when Dahlia was alive or since her death?”

Myra shook her head. “Never saw anyone who resembled him.”

“Did Dahlia mention the name of any man?”

“I’m sorry, Luke. Our conversation was brief but…” He raised his brows and waited.

She frowned. “When I first met Dahlia, she wanted to know if I’d ever met her Grandmother. She said I reminded her of the woman. I was little put out to be compared to someone’s Granny and told her I never met gram.”

“Did she say how you would meet her?” Did her Grandmother have a connection to someone in Ledgeview?

She shrugged. “We didn’t pursue the topic after I reminded Miss Blue that discussion of age at an interview was illegal.”

“Isn’t that the age of the interviewee?”

“Fair is fair. The girl was disappointed, but she seemed to understand she’d touched a sore spot. I admit I don’t care to admit how old I am. What woman does?”

“And you didn’t know how you’d know her Grandmother?”

“No, I took it that her grandmother visited once, but you understand, Luke. Ledgeview seems like a small town, but if someone keeps to themselves, I wouldn’t meet them unless they lived in my neighborhood or joined the theater or church.”

“Thank you, Myra. Call me if you remember anything else.”

He walked out to his car. Dahlia thought Myra might have known her Grandmother. Was the city the connection in this crime? He hopped in Old Charger again. Water streaked the road from the last melting traces of snow. What if Dahlia came to Ledgeview to look up old friends from the time of her Grandmother?