Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 01 - Murder Off the Books (21 page)

“You do that,” Greeley answered, then turned his attention to Rachel who was huddled on the floor holding Carrie in her arms. The young woman was sobbing incoherently.

“Sit down at the table, Mrs. Brenner. You’ve got thirty seconds to tell me where your brother is. Otherwise I’m locking all of you up, including that damn dog.”

Chapter
30

“She must have fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.”

Rachel glanced up from her perch on her front steps. She half-listened to Edgar Freed, who’d declared himself almost a partner in the Sullivan Detective Agency, wheeze his way through another rendition of how he had spotted the ‘butt-ugly serial killer’ who’d been holed up in “Miz Brenner’s house.” How he told Elinor, when this “ugly tall drink of water in an ugly Pepto-Bismol pink blouse–”

“A blouse I was donating to charity,” Elinor Freed interjected. “And it wasn’t ugly. I paid more than $20.00 for it at–”

“Let me finish the story, old woman. They don’t care where you shop,” Edgar snapped. “Anyway, as soon as I saw that ‘sissy-man’ slink out of Miz Brenner’s house, I said, ‘Elinor give me the phone. There’s trouble across the street’. And Elinor said–”

Rachel tuned out the chatter, the two-way radios and the flashing lights of the string of police cars and crime scene vans that blocked Rittenhouse Street. Dan was gone, long gone, if Edgar Freed’s timetable was correct. Dan had bolted from the house, clad in some of the charity clothes she had collected for the women’s shelter, in a D.C. cab about 15 minutes after she and the kids had left for the funeral home.

Now six hours later she was sitting on her steps, her house being torn apart by the D.C. police looking for a gun. She pulled her sweater tighter around her and closed her eyes.

 Someone nudged her knee.

She opened her eyes and drowned in the dark, warm eyes that promised unconditional affection.

 “Looks like you could use a friend.” Mac pushed Whiskey to the side, but first the dog offered her a long, sloppy kiss.

Mac chuckled as she wiped off her face with the sleeve of her sweater. “Sorry about that.” He sat down on the steps next to her.

“Sam get off?”

“Yep. I dropped him off at the station in time to make the 6:00 o’clock train. Gets into Philly at 7:36.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“No problem. Your son isn’t talking to me so it was a long ride down to the station.”

“Yeah, Sam is royally pissed at everyone, except for Dan.” Rachel chuckled without humor. “But there was no point in him staying. I’m not letting Sam ruin his life….”

“Yeah. The kid needs to be in school. What about Carrie and Ray? Do I need to–”

“No. Greeley let them go home about forty minutes ago.” Rachel looked up in alarm. “You don’t think that animal, what’s his name, Eddie, will go after Ray again?”

Mac gingerly rubbed his cheek and felt his own swollen lip. “Nah.
Greeley will keep him on a short leash after that fiasco.”

She looked closely at the private detective’s face. “How are you feeling?”

He gingerly touched his mouth again and then shook his head. “Like an idiot. I can’t believe I let that fool get the drop on me.”

She glanced back at her house, still full of shadows moving between the rooms. An officer emerged from the front door carrying her desktop computer, as well as the file box with all the data disks. Two others followed, hauling the area rug that laid in front of her mantle, as well as several plastic evidence bags. “What are they doing?”

“A department computer geek is going to analyze your hard drive.” Mac leaned forward and whispered, “Hope Sam hasn’t been visiting any porn websites because it’s all going to come out.”

“Why my rug?”

“Blood evidence.”

Rachel inhaled sharply. “They don’t think
….” She held out her bandaged hand. “I cut myself on a piece of glass. It’s my blood not-not–”

“They’ve got to check everything.”

***

“Tell me that again.” Mac moved a little farther away from the activity on the Brenner front porch and cupped one hand over the ear not pressed to his cell phone.

“Did you hear the part about the homecoming queens?” JJ impatiently asked.

Mac frowned. “No. Start over–from the beginning. Where are you?”

“I’m over at the college newspaper office. I–”

“It’s open on Sunday?”

“No, but I know a guy who knows the guy who edits the paper.”

“Of course you do.” Mac smiled. His new secretary seemed to know lots of guys who knew guys who could get her what she wanted.

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“No. That was admiration in my voice not sarcasm.”

“It sounded like sarcasm.”

“JJ, I only have 1000 minutes a month on this cell phone. Get to the point.”

“I could probably get you a better deal. Do you have ‘roll over’ on–”

“JJ!”

“If you hadn’t interrupted me, I’d be done by now.”

Mac noticed
Greeley coming out of Rachel’s house. “Talk fast JJ or hang up.”

“Remember that photo in the Clarion–the one the guy shot of the clock tower while lying on his back?”

“Yeah.” He watched Fitz, his arms full of plastic evidence bags, walk off the porch and head for the crime lab van.

“I figured he probably shot lots of photos that weekend. More than what showed up in the newspaper. So I called up–”

“Skip ahead to the good part.”

“I found a group shot of Concordia’s past homecoming queens–or at least the ones that showed up for homecoming–and some of the Administration elites. The photo was taken in front of the clock tower on Saturday–before the game.”

“Keep going. I’ll let you know when you say something interesting.”

“That’s sarcasm.”

“Sorry. It’s been a tough afternoon. There was another murder.”

“Where?”

“Rachel Brenner’s funeral home.” Mac saw Joanne and Pete join Greeley on the porch. “JJ, I don’t have much time. Tell me about the photo, please.”

“Gina Malwick was front and center.”

“Okay.”

“Lenore Adams was standing next to her.”

“You’ve got my attention. Who else was in the photo?”

“Couple of old women I didn’t recognize. Must have been former homecoming queens. A younger woman with blonde hair. I’ve seen her around campus a few times. Some guy who’s on the board of trustees. I think his name is Starling. President Krenek, Coach Morgan. Ms. Fieldstone. She’s a–”

“I know who she is. Who else?”

“Well, Tia Hu of course and–”

“Wait. Tia Hu was in the photo.”

“Well. Duh. She’s this year’s homecoming queen; of course she’d be in the shot.”

Mac sighed. “Tia is the third murder victim.”

“Bummer.”

“JJ!”

“Sorry. It’s just that Tia was so
…. Wonder who will get the crown?”

“I don’t have time for this. Can you get copies for me?”

“Sure, but there’s something else.”

“What?” Mac saw Rachel stand and go into the house along with Greeley and Joanne.

“I haven’t been through all the photos but I think Dan Thayer is in the background of a couple of them.”

***

A cloud of white dust hung in the air. Fingerprint powder littered every surface. Rachel glanced around the upturned living room, then followed Greeley into the kitchen. Every cabinet door was ajar–silent evidence of the police’s thorough search for the weapon.

The lieutenant motioned for Rachel to take a seat at the cluttered table. “I’ll need you to sign these forms.” He gestured to a pile of papers. “They are releases for the computer, disks, rug, and other evidence we’ve taken. I appreciate that you didn’t wait for a search warrant and that you and the kids let us take your fingerprints for comparison to those we found in the dumpster and here. We may also want a blood sample. There was blood on the edge of the dumpster.”

Rachel looked down at the fresh bandage on her hand. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“The issue is whether your brother hid something here,”
Greeley said.

Rachel winced, remembering that Dan had originally stashed a gun under the rose bush in her flowerbed. But someone, presumably the killer, had conveniently removed the incriminating evidence. Of course, now she was concealing incriminating evidence. The police had searched her house, but not her. The keychain was still safe.

 She scribbled her name on the forms.

“I’m going to ask you again. You have no idea where your brother went?”

Rachel shook her head. She was so tired that she could barely hear the cop’s questions anymore.

“Mrs. Brenner?”

The sharp tone startled her.

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know where he is. He was supposed to stay here until I got back from the funeral home. I don’t know where he went or why. “

***

The grandfather clock in the living room chimed eight times. Rachel almost smiled. The old timepiece had carefully guarded Thayer family hours for more than a century. The deep, hourly ringing never ceased to comfort her, a constant memory of an era that had once been peaceful. She shivered. Those days had passed.

It was just after eight o’clock but felt like midnight. The last of the crime lab technicians had finally left. Rachel found the pillow cushions that had been discarded on the floor during the search and tossed them back on the sofa. She sank down wearily, unable to fathom straightening and cleaning up the mess.

There was a quick knock at the front door and then Mac and Whiskey came in. They’d gone out to talk to
Greeley before he returned to headquarters.

“The lieutenant says you don’t have to come into headquarters tomorrow, but not to think about leaving town.” Mac sat down at the opposite end of the couch.

Whiskey hopped up next to Rachel and put her head in the woman’s lap.

Mac snapped his fingers. “Down girl. You know better.”

“Leave her alone.” Rachel gently scratched behind the hound’s ears and was rewarded with a gentle rumble.

“Where’s your cat?”

Whiskey’s ears pricked up.

“At Althea’s. The lieutenant let me take her over there before they started the search. I’ll get her in the morning…if she even wants to return. Althea waits on her hand and foot–or should I say, paw.” Rachel started to laugh, and then just as suddenly, burst into tears.

Mac fumbled in his pocket for a handkerchief. He handed the wrinkled cotton cloth to her. “It’s clean.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes and drawing shaky breaths.

“I can’t believe this nightmare. My brother’s accused of multiple murders, my son is practically flunking out of college, and-and strangers….” Rachel dissolved into a fresh set of heart-wrenching sobs that made the rest of the sentence almost unfathomable.

Mac smiled softly when he finally deciphered her mumbled, “Strangers pawed through my underwear looking for a gun.”

Mac let her cry for a few minutes.

At last, Rachel’s cries quieted to unevenly spaced sniffles. She sat up, wiped her eyes, then blew her nose into the handkerchief.

She glanced across the sofa and found dark, concerned eyes. “Sorry.”

Mac locked eyes with Rachel. “You really have no idea who his girlfriend is? Nothing that he ever said over the last few months to give you a clue. I picked up a rumor about him and Lenore Adams.”

“I don’t know. Her name keeps coming up. So maybe.” Rachel ran a hand through her curls, tucking the errant locks behind her ears. “Frankly, I haven’t spent any real time with Dan in months.”

Mac shifted in his seat and turned to face Rachel. “Whoever killed Tia is getting more dangerous.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it. The first murder was in the clock tower. Nobody found the body for 24 hours. There was plenty of time for the killer to get away, cover his tracks. The second murder, I’m convinced, was done out of desperation. Angela Lopez knew something important and was going to tell you. The killer took big chances that night, but I think because he got away with it, he got more fearless.”

Rachel nodded. “Whoever killed Tia wanted me to find the body or at least tie the murder to my brother by dumping the body in the funeral home dumpster. But why?”

“I don’t know, but whoever it is, knows who you are and thinks you’re a threat. You know something and don’t know that you know it.”

Rachel eyes grew wide. “But I don’t know anything.”

“I think you do. It’s something you saw. Something that
….”

Mac stopped. He studied Rachel’s face. “What did you see at the funeral home?”

Rachel flushed again. Despite the private detective’s admission that he believed in Dan’s innocence, she worried that he’d change his mind if he saw what she’d hidden in her bra.

“You saw what I you saw,” she insisted. “The body in the dumpster was horrifying and I’ll never forget it, but there was nothing there that told me anything about the killer.”