Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 01 - Murder Off the Books (17 page)

Chapter
24

“Rachel, I’m starving. Did you let the old guy eat all the good stuff?” Dan rubbed a towel over his wet hair as he bounced down the staircase into the living room where Rachel was running a vacuum cleaner.

When she didn’t answer, he pulled the plug out of the wall outlet.

“Dan!” She stood the powerless vacuum upright and glared at him.

“You’re going to wear out your carpet if you clean it any more,” he joked, snapping the damp towel at her jean-clad bottom.

“It’s already worn out,” she grumbled, gathering up the cord and securing it around the plastic holders built on the back of the appliance. “But it doesn’t have potato chip crumbs on it anymore.”

Dan gave her a guilty grin. “Speaking of which–I’m hungry again. Got anymore of those Twinkies that the old guy was scarfing down?”

“Yes, but you can’t eat them now. Dinner will be ready in about a half hour. I’ve got a chicken baking.”

“Are you going to make mashed potatoes too?”

“Only if you agree to stay upstairs. You were lucky Edgar didn’t see you earlier. I’ve caught him over here before doing something in my flowerbed. He might have been trying to get close enough to the house to look in the windows.”

Dan gulped. “Uh…which flowerbed? The one with the rose bushes?”

Rachel nodded. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“He might have seen me burying a gun there.”

Rachel sank down on the sofa, a dozen painful questions stabbing into her mind like darts hurled at a corkboard. She wouldn’t ask the most important one; instead she asked an obvious one. “What gun?”

“Probably the one that killed Malwick.”

“How did–” Rachel took a deep breath and started over. “Why did you have it?”

He sat down next to her, his elbows on his knees, his gaze directed at the spot between his feet. “Someone put it in my car. They made sure I’d touch it by stowing it under the driver’s seat and positioning the seat so I’d have to move it backwards in order to get behind the wheel. I panicked when I saw it.”

“And your first impulse was to hide it under my rose bushes? Thanks a lot.”

He didn’t look up.

“Dan!”

“Say it. I’m stupid, inconsiderate, and childish–running to you; expecting you to fix everything for me.”

She got to her feet. “Yeah. Stupid. Trust me I’ll come back to the rest. At the moment I’m more concerned about what’s planted in my yard. We need to dig…. Wait a minute!”

He raised his head. “What?”

“Mac Sullivan said the police had determined that same gun that killed Malwick was used to kill Angela Lopez. She was shot on Tuesday night. When did–”

“I found the gun on Saturday night when I left
…. When I got in the car to drive over to see you. I was planning to tell you about the new car I was buying you.”

“When were you planning to tell me that you’d gotten fired?”

Dan looked sheepish. “Probably not until I found another job. Anyway, when I got here….”

“But you didn’t visit that night. I was–”

“You weren’t home.”

“I was meeting with Jeff O’Herlihy about the new job. It took longer than I planned.” Rachel covered her face with her hands and laughed. “So instead of leaving me a note, you left a murder weapon?”

“That was probably a bad idea,” he agreed. “Someone must have followed me here and taken–”

“Not someone, Dan. The killer. The same person who killed Malwick and planted the gun in your car. And they probably retrieved the gun on Sunday night. Remember my late night visitors?”

“But….” He lurched to his feet and walked back and forth between the sofa and the stairs. “You said ‘they’. They broke into your house. More than one person.”

“Yeah. I think I heard at least two people.”

He grabbed the banister post for support. “So it’s more than just one person doing all this. Oh, God, Rachel, I screwed up. I should never have come here, not Saturday night, and certainly not yesterday. I’ve put you in danger.”

“It’s a little late for that realization,” Rachel said wryly.

“I have to leave. Maybe get a flight out of Baltimore or I could drive down to–”

“You have to calm down and let me figure this out,” she interrupted, abruptly getting to her feet and crossing the room towards him. He always reacted like this–maddening indifference, painful realization, then blind panic. “Maybe there were two different intruders or two different break-ins. That could explain the–”

“Rachel, I am so sorry. I need to get out of here–”

“Shut up. We need to call the police or Mac. He can–”

“No, please. You know I couldn’t stand being in jail, being locked up, even for a little while.”

Dan looked up at her and she saw in his eyes the six-year-old who’d managed to lock himself inside an old steamer trunk. Their mother was at work and Rachel had been in charge. It had taken her almost a half hour and a phone call to her grandfather in order to free him.

“Don’t tell anyone, Rachel. Please.”

She knelt down and ruffled his hair. The past had scarred them both. He couldn’t tolerate small spaces or locked rooms and she couldn’t refuse his pleas for help. “Okay. But you have to stay out of sight until–”

The ringing of the phone interrupted her.

Five minutes later, Rachel hung up the phone with a sigh. “That was the D.C. police. Someone broke into the funeral home and I’m on call. They don’t think there’s been any damage, but I’ve got to go down there and check things out. Besides Jeff, I’m the only one with the security codes.”

“Did they say whether they think it’s–”

Rachel shook her head and then gave him a hug. “They didn’t mention you or the murders. I’ll be gone a couple of hours. Please, please stay off the phone and away from the windows.”

***

The bell over the door chimed as Sean entered the office. “Mac? I’ve got–”

Mac appeared in the doorway from the back room and Whiskey rushed over to greet him.

“How are you feeling, girl?” He knelt down and gave her a hug. Looking up at the teen, he smiled. “Thanks for taking care of her today. I thought things would be calmer at your place. She’s still healing.”

“Things are always calmer at a funeral home. Dad made me keep the office open this afternoon, so he could pick up Bridget at the airport. I was bored and decided to cut out early. Whiskey and I went to the park and just walked around.” Sean looked around. “I like the paint job. When are you getting rid of the carpet?”

“Soon. And the paint job is courtesy of my new secretary.”

“Ray mentioned her. Where is she?” Sean peeked into the other room.

“It’s Saturday night. I think JJ had a date.” Mac gave Whiskey another pat and stood up. “Don’t worry you’ll meet her soon. Heck, JJ hasn’t even met Whiskey yet.”

Sean smiled. “I talked to Ray this afternoon. Hope JJ makes a better impression on Whiskey than she did on Carrie.”

Mac raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. Although in a fight, I think Whiskey’s bite is probably less painful than either of the other two’s.”

“Yeah. And lucky Ray’s the one with the tooth marks. Listen, I’ve gotta go. Mom’s waiting outside. She drove us over in her new car–said to remind you about dinner tomorrow.”

“We’ll be there,” Mac promised as he walked to the office door and held it open for Sean and the dog. “Whiskey, let’s go home, too. It’s been a long couple of days.”

***

“Nothing obvious seems to be missing or damaged but I’ll need to verify that with the owner.” Rachel pulled an inventory list from a file folder and handed it to the middle-aged, female detective who, along with a male counterpart, had met her in the parking lot and escorted her inside. “After your call I was afraid someone had gotten into the basement; the preparation rooms. But they’re still locked.”

Detective Joanna Giles took a quick look at the multi-page list. “Have you noticed any strange characters hanging around here lately?”

Rachel laughed. “Living or dead? No, sorry. I haven’t seen anyone stranger than usual. But I’ve only been working here about a week. I was surprised that you knew to call me.”

Detective Giles smiled. “You’d be surprised what we know about you. How about your brother? Seen him lately?”

Sobering, Rachel realized that under normal conditions the funeral home break-in wouldn’t have merited one detective, much less two. She looked over at the detective using her office telephone. She’d bet a month’s salary that the detectives weren’t concerned with any missing caskets.

***

“Thanks for the heads up, Tom. You think the funeral home break-in and the murders are connected?” Mac held his cell phone with one hand and pulled a clean shirt out of his closet with the other.

Whiskey whined but made no move to get up from bed where she was stretched out.

Mac finished his conversation and flipped the phone closed. “Come on girl, get up. I know I told you that we could have an early night, but something is happening at the funeral home. We need to dig into it.”

Whiskey growled and stuck her head under a pillow.

“Okay. Bad pun.” Mac lifted up the corner of the pillow. “Give me a break. This time I need you for more than just a pretty face. We’re going to put your sensitive nose to the test. If Dan Thayer is hiding out in the funeral home, you’re just the dog to find him.”

***

Detective Giles closed her notebook and perched on the edge of Rachel’s desk. “Anything else you want to confess while the uniforms are searching the building?”

“Confess?”

“Sorry. Occupational hazard.” Detective Giles smiled. “Any other information you can give me about this break-in, or the one at your house, or what the heck, as long as I’m here–want to tell me what you know about the Malwick or Lopez murders?”

Rachel shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t know anything more than I’ve already told the police.”

Detective Giles stood. “I doubt that.”

“I think maybe the killer doubts it, too.”

Both women turned to see sweating Detective Fiori standing in the doorway.

“What is it, Pete?” the policewoman asked.

“You’d better take a look. Someone left something in one of the hearses.”

Chapter
25

“Is that what I think it is?” Mac asked as he crouched next to the crime scene technician. He held the flashlight steady as he watched the young man carefully lift the substance lying on the seat of one of Jeff’s oldest hearses.

“Just what the hell do you think it is?” Lieutenant Greeley asked, his gravelly voice coming from directly behind the private detective.

The technician jumped at the sound, dropping the blood-smeared object with a splat onto the leather.

Mac barely flinched. “Afterbirth.”

“Feel free to elaborate.”

Mac set the flashlight down next to the young man and then stood. He took a few steps back, drawing the lieutenant away from the hearse, and earning a grateful look from the nervous technician. “Pete Fiori found what he suspected was blood on the outside of the hearse door. Out of a sense of excessive caution, and because both detectives were afraid something more sinister was going on, Detective Giles called in the crime lab. The technician examined the hearse and found a dead kitten and…well, what you saw him scraping up.”

“I hope to God that kitten was murdered or Detectives Giles and Fiori are going to be footing the lab bill.”

Mac chuckled. “Sorry. You could order a necropsy, but it looked stillborn to me. I think someone left the window open and a cat–”

“Yeah, right. I get the picture.” Greeley glanced around the parking lot and the back of the funeral home building. “That the door the beat cop found open?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’s the hearse way out here? Someone try to steal it too?”

“According to Mrs. Brenner, the hearse won’t start. It was pushed out here where the employees park so it would be out of the way and so the tow truck could back up to it easily. She said, quote, “It’s been beached out by the dumpster for the last two days”.”

“So the only crime here is a jimmied door and the waste of the taxpayers’ money?”

Mac grinned. “Well there is the problem of the missing cat and an unknown number of kittens. But I’ve got my partner checking into that.”

***

Rachel sighed as Mac and Whiskey walked into her office. It was late and she really wasn’t in the mood for more questions. “Let me guess. You listen to a police scanner in your spare time. I wish I could have had this kind of attention for the break-in at my house. Maybe the burglars would have been caught by now.”

Mac grinned. “Whiskey and I were just in the neighborhood and saw the lights.”

“Right.” Rachel pulled out a file from the drawer she’d been thumbing through. “Shouldn’t your dog be home recuperating?”

Whiskey whined and looked up at the detective.

“I tried to tell her that, but she wasn’t having any of it.”

Rachel looked at the dog whose sleepy attitude belied the detective’s words. “Well, even if Whiskey hasn’t, I’ve had more than I want from this day. As soon as the police clear out, I’m headed home. So whatever you’re here for, get to it. And before you ask, Dan isn’t here.”

“Then you won’t mind if Whiskey and I take a walk through the building, see what might have wandered in through that open back door.”

Rachel shrugged and slammed the file drawer shut. “Knock yourself out. Watch out for ghosts.”

***

“Don’t get too close,” Mac whispered, tugging an excited Whiskey back from the wiggling fur ball of kittens. The newborns were hidden in a half-filled box of copy paper on the bottom shelf of a storage room. “I think we’ve already scared off mama.”

Whiskey whined, voicing her displeasure with his decision.

“Did you find something,” Detective Giles asked, appearing in the doorway.

“Whiskey found the dead kitten’s siblings. No sign of the mother cat.”

“No sign of Dan Thayer either,” the policewoman added. “Crime scene techs just left. Since they were already here, they pulled a few prints from the back door and took some swabs of the blood drops Pete found on the outside of the hearse.”

“
Greeley still here?”

Detective Giles flinched. “Yeah.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“Maybe.” She sighed. “And maybe I’ll be on parking meter patrol next week. Leave the cats for Mrs. Brenner to deal with tomorrow.
Greeley wants us to wrap this up pronto.”

Mac grinned. “Bet my next retainer those weren’t his exact words.”

***

“Try it now,” Pete Fiori suggested, his voice muffled by the open hood of Rachel’s minivan.

“What did he say?” Rachel asked Mac. The police had finally finished checking out the funeral home and declared it burglar-free although not feline-free. Hoping to make a quick getaway, she’d hopped in the Blue Dog and prayed it would start. God’s direct line must have been busy. So instead of being at home dealing with her fugitive brother, she was sitting in the driver’s seat with a police detective banging on something under the van’s hood and a private detective hovering at her elbow.

Whiskey let loose several short barks.

She amended her thought–a private detective and his unusually agitated dog. “In English please.”

Mac chuckled. “Pete wants you to try to start it again.”

Rachel turned the key and the van started up with a pop and a bang.

Whiskey barked again and strained at her leash.

“Easy girl, Rachel doesn’t need us to tell her that she has vehicle issues.”

Rachel smirked. “At least I own my own vehicle.” The van coughed and she pressed on the gas petal. “Such as it is.”

Pete slammed the hood down and jogged towards the squad car where his partner was waiting.

“Charming guy,” Rachel remarked, watching the detectives speed out of the parking lot. “I would have thanked him, if he’d stuck around.”

Mac grinned. “His undercover jobs haven’t improved his social skills. I’ll pass on your thanks the next time I see him.”

Whiskey barked again, straining at her leash.

Rachel leaned out the van’s window and took a look at the dog. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She wants to check out that hearse. Probably still smells the dead kitten.”

Rachel sighed and buckled her seat beat. “I put out some water for the mother cat. Hopefully, she’s made her way back to the storeroom with her kittens now that things have quieted down. I’ll come in tomorrow and deal with them. Don’t suppose you–”

“Don’t even go there,” Mac said with a chuckle. “Whiskey’s interest in cats doesn’t extend to sharing her turf with them.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Rachel put the van in gear.

Mac tugged on Whiskey leash, turning her head back towards him. “Stubborn mutt! Give it up. That cat is long gone.”

The dog barked and pulled at the leash, leaning her body towards the hearse and the far corner of the parking lot.

Rachel frowned. “I don’t think she believes you.”

“I have that problem with all females. You want us to follow you home?”

“No.” His question reminded her of who was waiting for her. She absolutely did not want him to follow her home. She shook her head in case he missed her answer. “You go ahead. Maybe you could entice Whiskey to forget the kitten with some food. The hamburger place a couple of blocks over is open all night.”

Whiskey’s head turned at the word ‘hamburger’ and she licked Mac’s hand.

Rachel laughed. “Does she know
….”

Mac frowned. “You bet. And now that you’ve brought up the possibility, the only question will be if she wants cheese on it or not.”

Whiskey sat up and placed one paw on Mac’s elbow.