Delusions With Murder: A Rilynne Evans Mystery (18 page)

“Ah,” she didn’t want to point out that anyone else in the lab could have given her stuff back to her.  “So, what’s wrong with your car?”

“I think my clutch is going out.  That’s what I get for lending it to Nicole.  She thinks she can drive standard, but she isn’t very good at it.”

“That is why I don’t let anyone drive my car.  The last thing I need is for someone else to mess it up.  I do enough of that on my own,” she laughed.

Ben gave her a confused look and asked, “You have a car?”

“Of course I have a car.”

“Then why don’t you ever use it?  I have never seen you out when you weren’t walking.”

“Are you kidding?  With gas prices what they are these days, I would rather walk.  Besides, it’s healthier.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” he replied.  “Well, I better be going.  I’m supposed to be there in fifteen minutes.”

She walked him to the door.  “You have fun with that.  See you at work.”

After closing the door behind him, Rilynne grabbed the boxes and carried them to the living room.  Huh, she thought to herself.  Usually items that had been processed were returned covered in finger print dust.  Looking at the items on top, it appeared that Ben had cleaned them off for her.  She started to flip through them, but after a couple minutes she decided to put it off until later.  Instead, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

As her door swung open, she saw something drop to the floor.  She reached down, but her fingers stopped just short of touching it.  “No,” she heard herself say as her purse dropped to the floor.  Leaving her door standing open, she ran down the hall looking for anyone, but it was empty.  She shot down the stairs and out the front door, but it was too late.

She struggled to grip her phone, hands shaking as she pressed the numbers.  “Please.  Please,” she repeated aloud to herself.  She fought the urge to throw it when the call went straight to voicemail.  She was about to call again when she spotted the car parked across the street.  She wanted to run towards it, but she knew there was no point.  Holding her phone back up, she dialed another number.

“Can you meet me at my apartment?  And bring the crime scene investigators.  Bring everyone.”  She hung up without waiting for a response.  She was still standing in the street, staring at the car when the tires screeched to a stop in front of her just minutes later.

“Evans, what is going on?” Wilcome called out as he jumped out of the car.  Rilynne felt her whole body go numb as she shifted her eyes from the car to Wilcome.  “There was a note,” she didn’t even realize that it was her answering until she recognized her own voice.  “There was a number at my door.  He took Ben.”

R
ilynne kicked her purse out of the way as she walked back through her still open door.  Even if Derek Hartley’s abduction had not been a message for her, Ben’s certainly was.  She could not deny it any longer; the killer was playing games with her, and using human pawns.

If the purpose of the game was to throw Rilynne off, it was working.  Whatever happened to Ben would be because of her, and she didn’t see any way of being able to stop it.  She wanted to scream.  How could she have not seen this coming?  She should have been able to stop it.  She spent her night dreaming about things in the past that she couldn’t change, when she should have been able to see what was really important.
             

Detective Wilcome had set up in her living room, while the other detectives started going door to door in the building.  Rilynne knew she should be up doing something, but she could not make her body move.  She wasn’t even able to keep her attention on what was being said around her, only picking up a few words here and there; road block, surveillance, state troopers.  She hadn’t even noticed that someone set a coffee down on the table in front of her until it’s strong smell overwhelmed her.

She sat listening to the knocks ringing up and down the hall for what seemed like hours.  It all sounded like a really bad musical number, full of knocking, doors opening and shutting, and footsteps echoing from the floor above.  It wasn’t until Detective Wilcome placed his hand on her shoulder that she was jolted back into reality.

“I need you to tell me what happened this morning,” he told her.  The look on his face was more than just concern, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. 

Rilynne reached for the coffee in front of her, and searched her memory.  “Ben came over around 6:45 to drop off my stuff that had been taken to the lab yesterday.  I was already gone last night when they finished processing them, so he dropped them off this morning before I went in.  He said he had to go take his car to the shop, so he wouldn’t be at work until later, if at all.  He left maybe ten minutes later.  I found the note about five minutes after that when I was on my way out.”  She could tell he wanted to ask her another question, but appeared to have decided to keep it to himself.  He didn’t have to ask, though, for her to know what he was thinking.  She knew exactly what it looked like.  “It’s really not like that,” she offered to ease his concern.  “He is just a good friend.”  He gave a half-hearted smile before standing up and walking into the hall.

No doubt that rumors would be flying soon, if they had not already.  She couldn’t worry about that now; there were far more important things to worry about than being accused of fraternization. 

She took one last deep breath to pull herself together, then followed Wilcome out.  “Where do you want me?” she asked when she found him by the stairs with Detective Matthews.  He hesitated for a moment before sending her with Matthews to Ben’s apartment.

“Are you okay?” Matthews asked as he started the car, which was still parked in the middle of the street.

“No,” she answered bluntly.  “This is my fault.  What ever happens to Ben will be on me.”

“You can’t think like that,” he told her.  “You are not doing this.  You are not the one out there kidnapping these men and killing them.”

She felt herself getting angry.  “The only reason Ben was taken was because he and I are close.  First he abducts the man from the apartment above mine, and then he breaks into the scene while I was home. Then he goes further and breaks into my own apartment, not to take anything, though, just to mess with me.  Of course the next step would be to take someone I care about from my own doorstep.”

Matthews stopped the car abruptly in front of Ben’s building and turned to look at her.  “There is no way that you or any one of us could have seen this coming.  You can either dwell on it, or let it motivate you,” he said sharply.  “But I will tell you that you are by far the best detective I have ever worked with, and if anyone can get Ben back alive it’s you.”

“Okay,” she said as she pushed her door open.  She knew he was right.  If she let him get to her, Ben truly would not have a chance.

“Huh…” she said aloud when she followed Matthews into the apartment. 

“What is it?” he asked.  She reached for the light switch next to the door.  “It’s just not what I expected.”

She didn’t know exactly what it was that she had expected, but it sure was not this.  The first thing she noticed when she walked in was the big, open kitchen.  In most of the men’s kitchens she had been in, she was lucky to find a toaster or a blender.  Ben’s was stocked with gizmos that would melt the heart of anyone who truly loved to cook.

The living room had a large salt-water fish tank that took up almost the entire wall.  It was stocked full of vibrant fish, and even had a couple small stingrays.  In lieu of a couch, he had two gamer chairs set up in front of a large flat screen television.  Now, that one actually did not surprise her.

As she approached the bedroom door, Rilynne hesitated.  Ben had been so adamant about not going into a woman’s bedroom, it just didn’t seem right somehow for her to go into his.  “I’ll take out here,” she told Matthews as she turned back to the living room.

Unlike Hartley, Ben did not seem to keep any receipts.  Rilynne didn’t see how it really mattered, though, because she already knew how the perpetrator picked Ben.

She flopped down in one of the gaming chairs, rubbing her hands over her face.  As she let her head fall back, she caught the familiar scent of peaches.  She closed her eyes and concentrated on the smell, but all she saw was darkness.

After a few minutes, she pulled herself out of the chair and walked to the bookcase at the end of the room.  His book collection was as expected, comprised mainly of books relating to forensic studies.  At the end of the bottom shelf she found a file that was full of different awards he had received.  She had heard around the station that he had won a few commendations, but there were close to twenty there, including one from the mayor.  He really was outstanding at what he did.  She wondered why he had tucked them away.

There were also pictures scattered along the shelves.  The first one she grabbed was of a couple in their early forties standing in front of a vibrantly blue ocean.  The woman was wearing a beautiful white sundress that was dancing in the breeze.  Her auburn hair was lying in loose curls around her warm, friendly face.  The man was tall, and had the same dirty blonde hair as Ben.  In a way, she was glad they were no longer around.  No parents should have to go through such an ordeal.

She sat the picture back down and reached for the next.  Something about it made Rilynne’s chest tighten.

“Who is this?” Rilynne handed the picture to Matthews, who had just walked back in the room.  It was of a man in his mid thirties, sitting up in a hospital bed.  Though he looked very sick, his skin was quite pale and his hair was gone, he had a warm smile that seemed familiar.  “That is Justin Davis, Ben’s brother,” Matthews answered, handing the picture back.

“What happened to him?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the picture.  Something about it made her feel sick, but couldn’t figure out what it was.

“He had cancer.  They found a tumor in one of his legs.  He fought hard, but passed a little over a year ago.”  It hit Rilynne like a ton of bricks.  She wanted to just put the picture down and walk away, but knew she had to continue.  “Was his leg amputated?”

Matthews put the box he was holding down on the table, and stared at Rilynne.  “No, he went through chemotherapy, but refused to let them take his leg.  By the time he finally agreed, it was too late; he was too weak for the surgery.  What are you thinking?”

Rilynne sat the picture back down.  “Shaved head, leg amputation, and-” she grabbed a picture of Ben and Justin at the beach, “-a right nipple piercing.”  She stared at Detective Matthews, not wanting to admit to herself that what she was thinking could be true. 

“There has got to be some other explanation,” Matthews said.  “I have known Ben Davis for ten years, even before he started working for the department.  He is one of the most kind-hearted people you will ever meet.  There is no way that he could be capable of such heinous acts.”

Rilynne gathered the pictures off the shelves.  “Trust me,” she replied.  “I don’t want it to true any more than you do.  But it’s too much of a coincidence.  We have to look into it." 

*     *     *

“We need everyone in the conference room,” Rilynne said to Wilcome when they walked into the office.  He took one look at the expression on both her and Detective Matthews face and nodded.

“Everyone in here now,” he said loudly.  “Where are Johnson and Davidson?”

“I think they went out for a smoke,” Steele said taking his seat.

“Call them and get them up here now,” Wilcome told him.  When they walked in a few minutes later, Wilcome took his seat and gave the floor to Rilynne.

It took a few moments before she could make herself speak.  “We just left Ben Davis’s apartment, and found some stuff that we felt needed to be looked into.”  She could tell by the look on Detective Matthews face that he did not want to be included in this, but he did not correct her.

“Ben lost his brother Justin shortly before the killings started,” she paused to gather her strength.  “Justin Davis had a tumor in his leg that claimed his life when he refused to let them amputate.  He also lost his hair due to chemotherapy, and had his right nipple pierced.  These match the alterations the perpetrator made to the victims.”

After getting the last of it out, she couldn’t seem to make herself speak again.  She was glad when Detective Wilcome stood up and she could sink quietly into her chair.

“We all know Ben Davis very well, and most of you knew his brother Justin.  I’m assuming that I speak for everyone in this room when I say that it’s hard to believe he could have anything to do with this,” he said almost in a soothing manner.  “But we all know that it’s something we will have to look into with an open mind.”

Rilynne felt horrible when she looked around at the somber expressions around the table.  I can’t believe this is happening, she told herself.

“Where do we start?” Detective Johnson asked.

“The same place as always.  I want Ben’s financial statements pulled.  First we will see if we can place him somewhere else during the known abduction times.  Start with Derek Hartley’s since we have a very small window.”

“He was there,” Rilynne interrupted.  “He was in the building just before the abduction.  He helped me get Nicole Benson back to her apartment, then walked me to my door.”