Dying to Kill (Angel Delaney Mysteries Book #2) (33 page)

“Dragonslayer may be one person or it may be several.” Angel carefully tugged her jacket sleeve over her injured arm. “But one thing is certain. These guys were killed because they were abusive to their wives. I have no doubt that if we don’t get the killer soon, we’ll have corpses stretched out from here to Lincoln City.” She placed a hand on Callen’s arm. “There are more abusive men out there, and who knows when this psycho will strike next.”

She bit her lower lip. She had told Janet that Callen might be abusive. If Janet was behind these deaths, Callen could be next.

Don’t go there, Angel. That’s not likely. She had an alibi for the time Jenkins was killed.

Angel adjusted her jacket and kissed Callen’s cheek. “Do you want to take separate cars or ride together?”

“Together—I’ll drive. You shouldn’t be using that arm.”

He was right about that. Her active afternoon had caused the wound to bleed. They’d had to stop at the emergency room on the way to Callen’s place to get the blood-soaked dressing changed. And she’d had to endure a lecture from the ER nurse. The nurse suggested using a sling as a reminder not to use the arm at all for the next day or so. Angel had the sling in her car and agreed to use it if needed.

She and Callen didn’t speak on the way to the hotel. An odd silence permeated the car, creating a chasm between them. Angel couldn’t read him. Although he didn’t seem angry with her, he wasn’t happy either. He seemed thoughtful and remote.

“I won’t interfere with the investigation, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Angel said. “If I should happen to find anything, anything at all, I’ll let you know.”

Callen nodded. “When we get to the scene, try to stay in the background, okay?”

They reached the hotel, a place in Lincoln City. Nick was there when they arrived and greeted Callen with a slap on the back. “Boy, am I glad to see you.” He tossed Angel a rueful glance. “I thought you were taking it easy.”

“I was until Rachael called.” Angel looked past him to the wheelchair sitting in front of the window with an ocean view. A fire was going in the gas fireplace, and the windows were wide open. A cool westerly breeze wafted into the room. Crime lab techs were scouring the room for evidence and taking pictures. As a police officer, Angel would have been privy to all the details. As a private detective, she had to wait until the information was released or find out on her own. She looked around at the other officers, hoping to see a familiar face, but they were all new to her. Nick probably wouldn’t have been here either if he hadn’t been looking into Janet’s allegations.

“The ME’s already been here.” Nick directed the comment to Callen. “They carted out the body about an hour ago.”

“How did he die?” Callen asked, drawing his notepad out of his breast pocket.

“Gunshot to the head. No weapon that we can see. Bullet is still in the guy, so we’ll get a make on it after the autopsy.”

“He was shot at close range—similar to Jenkins.” Nick shook his head. “Poor guy didn’t have a chance. Didn’t look like he knew what was coming either. No sign of a break-in.”

“Do you have a time of death?” Callen’s gaze traveled over the room.

“Probably happened last night,” Nick answered.

“Witnesses?” Callen stepped inside, and Angel shadowed him.

“Yeah. We lucked out there. Manager said he saw someone fitting the ex-wife’s description come into the hotel around 8:00 looking for the guy. Right now she’s our only suspect.”

“Sounds too easy,” Callen said.

Nick rolled his eyes, his gaze settling on Angel. “Don’t I know it. I’m checking out all the angles this time. Campbell only made
two phone calls from his room. One to his ex-wife’s office at 2:00
and another at 7:00 in the evening to her home. I checked the numbers.” He hesitated. “You need to come in on these killings, Riley. We just don’t have the resources.”

“Might not be a bad idea—especially now that it looks like all three deaths are related. I’ll talk to my boss and Joe—make sure they’re okay with it.”

“It sure would help. I’m in way over my head.” He turned to Angel. “And no comments from you.”

“Is that what all this attitude is about?” Angel stood in front of him, hands on her hips. “You felt this way from the beginning and you’ve been taking it out on me?”

“I never meant to do that. It’s just that you’re way smarter about this stuff than I am.”

“I am not.”

“Right. Tell me you haven’t aced every test you’ve ever taken. You’re a better marksman, you could easily have passed the exam for detective. I’m having to work my tail off in these courses. And with all this work . . . I don’t know. It’s too much.”

“Test results don’t mean all that much,” Angel insisted. “You’re a good cop.”

“I should’ve listened to you on the Jenkins case. I know it was stupid, but I wanted to prove you wrong.”

“You two can hash out your differences later,” Callen said. “Right now we should be focusing on the evidence.”

Nick resumed telling Callen what he knew about Charles Campbell’s death. Angel listened with half an ear, more intent on Nick’s comments about Janet having been there. She was surprised to hear that. Janet hated her ex—hated the control he still had over her, but more than that, she hated what he’d done to her and her unborn baby. But enough to kill him?

Sounds like a motive to me.
Honoring Janet’s plea for confidentiality, Angel hadn’t told Callen the whole story. She might need to now.

She excused herself and went out to the lobby, where she sat in one of the overstuffed chairs and made a phone call.

“Rachael, did Janet tell you she came to see her ex last night?”

“No, she didn’t.” Rachael hesitated. “You’re sure?”

“No, but according to Nick, the manager saw a woman who fit Janet’s description. I’m going to want a photo so we get a positive ID.” Angel had a thought. Maybe someone other than Janet had been there as well. “Can you get me a photo of all the women from the shelter? There’s one tacked on the bulletin board there. See if you can get a good copy and bring it to me.” Angel told Rachael where she was and hung up.

The more she thought about it, the more she wondered about that diabolical plan she’d talked to Rachael about. If a group of women had put together a plan to kill their abusive husbands, wouldn’t they make certain each wife had an alibi?

Candace thought she’d had an alibi, but no one saw her during the hour she was reading. Then when she got home and found her husband dead and Gracie’s footprints on the floor, she had to clean things up. Angel made another call, this one to Janet.

Angel skipped the preliminaries and got right to the point. “Did you go see your ex-husband last night?”

“Who is this? Angel?”

“Yes. Did you?”

“No. Why would I do that?” She sounded shaken and tearful.

“I have no idea, but the manager here said you were here.”

“I wasn’t. Do the police think I killed him?”

“They haven’t gotten that far. They’ll need to verify if it was you. I just talked to Rachael and asked her for a photo of you and all the other women from the shelter.”

“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, then who did? Who else knew he was in town?”

The silence either meant she had told no one and she was trapped or she had told someone and that person was the killer. “I need to do some checking. I’ll call you back.”

Angel leaned against the back of the chair, and pain shot through her arm. Her eyes drifted closed. Coming here had been stupid. Callen was right; she should have stayed home.

Callen was glad to be on another case. He always suffered a letdown when an investigation ended. Especially one as intense as this latest one. He’d hardly had room to breathe. Even though the evidence hadn’t been processed, he had no doubt Darryl Jenkins had killed Christy Grant. Angel’s testimony pretty well locked things up. Darryl might come back later, claiming coercion or that he hadn’t made the condemning comments. But they’d get him one way or the other.

After a case had been resolved, Callen would often second-guess himself, thinking if he’d done this or that, things might have been different—he’d have solved it sooner. But this time, he could bypass much of the self-recrimination and focus on these bizarre and complicated murders.

Angel had been exhausted, and he’d dropped her off at his place a few minutes ago. She’d been more than ready to go home. She hadn’t even argued when he asked her to stay at his place in case her arm started bleeding again. Kath was still there and would watch over her. He’d have some peace of mind for the night at least.

Callen worried about her injury, but what concerned him even more was the possibility that the killer she’d been so doggedly pursuing might try again. He didn’t want her alone until she at least had a weapon for protection. Her own gun was still being held in evidence in another case. He made a mental note to pick up a weapon for her tomorrow.

At the hotel, Angel had told him about her call to Janet and how the counselor denied having been there. He admired Angel’s quick thinking in supplying them with a photo. Rachael hadn’t arrived with it until after he’d taken Angel home, so Angel didn’t know that the hotel manager had made a positive ID on Janet.

Apparently the counselor had lied. Odd, though, that Janet would talk to the manager and announce her presence if she planned to commit murder. Then again, a woman who’d been through what she had might have been too distressed to consider the consequences.

By the time he left the hotel for the second time, it was 10:00. Since he wasn’t feeling the least bit tired, he decided it was time to pay a little visit to Dr. Janet Campbell.

After Callen had dropped her off at his place, Angel had thought briefly about calling Janet to follow up on their conversation. She’d opted to leave before the photos arrived, and secured a promise from Callen that he’d let her know for certain whether or not Janet had been there. Weary and desperately in need of sleep and some strong pain medication, Angel went to bed at 9:00. She’d talk to both Callen and Janet in the morning.

The next day, after coffee and a shower, Angel called Janet and got the answering machine. She called the office; same thing there. Of course, the office didn’t open until 9:00. Angel would go over there then. Maybe Claire knew where she was.

When she’d called to ask Callen if he’d talked to Janet, he didn’t answer. She called dispatch, but the operator couldn’t find him either.

Why aren’t you answering my calls?
“Callen, where are you?” Angel muttered.

“Did you say something?” Kath shuffled out of the guest room, making a beeline for the kitchen and the coffee Angel had made.

“I’m trying to get hold of your brother.”

She yawned. “He didn’t come home last night?”

“I don’t think so—and he isn’t answering his phone.”

“Hmm. Maybe he’s still at the crime scene. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s pulled an all-nighter.”

Angel took a tentative sip of her coffee. “Still, you’d think he’d answer his phone or his pager.”

“Don’t look so worried,” Kath said. “I’m sure there’s a good reason. Maybe he’s out of range.”

“Maybe.” Angel didn’t think so. Something was going on. She could feel it—that ominous sixth sense that kicked in now and then. As the minutes ticked by, after she’d gotten dressed, the unnamed fear grew. Why hadn’t he called back? Where was he? Had he gone to talk with Janet last night?

Angel pictured him lying in Janet’s apartment, wounded or dead. With fierce determination, she put the thought from her head. Her imagination could be downright annoying at times.
He’s all right
, she told herself.
Callen can take care of himself.
She chided herself for even thinking the negative thoughts.

Instead, she focused on the case. The night before when Angel had talked to Janet, Janet had said she hadn’t been at the hotel, but she’d acted like she knew who had. Had someone posing as Janet gone to see Charles? Had that person stopped at the front desk to make sure the manager knew she was there, then gone to his room to kill him? Had this been an attempt to frame Janet? Or had Janet lied? Angel’s thoughts were in danger of short-circuiting. There was really only one way to find out.

Angel asked Kath to keep trying to call Callen and to let him know she was going to Janet’s office.

At 9:10, Angel entered the counseling offices and found Claire frantically canceling appointments. “Did you have an appointment today?” she asked, looking overwhelmed.

“No, I just wanted to talk to her.”

“Well, she’s sick. She left a message on the machine telling me to cancel all her appointments and to take the day off.”

“Sick?”

Claire nodded. “The flu or something. I tried to call her at home, but there’s no answer.”

“Did you know Janet’s ex-husband was murdered last night?”

Claire’s large eyes grew even larger. “My gosh. You don’t think Janet . . . No, she wouldn’t do something like that. Last night she had group at the shelter. She talked a little about his being in town, but . . .” Claire shook her head. “Janet wouldn’t do that. She told us she was having him arrested for blackmail.”

“Claire, this is really important. Do you have notes on the meetings? I know you do, but do you have them here?”

“Yes, I type them up the next morning. I haven’t had a chance to do these.”

“I need to see them.”

She glanced around, her expression desperate. “I’d like to help, I really would, but this stuff is all confidential. Dr. Campbell would kill me if I let anyone near her files.”

“I understand that, but Janet may be in trouble. See, I don’t think she killed her ex. I asked her last night if she’d told anyone about him being in town. Now you’re telling me she told the group last night. One of those women may have killed him.”

Claire placed her elbows on the table, face in her hands. “This is terrible. I can’t believe what you’re saying. But I can’t let you see the notes. You’re not even a police officer.” When she looked up, tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”