Justification for Murder (2 page)

Wednesday

D
etective Darcy Lynch rubbed his nose, trying to wipe away the Lysol-and-death smell of the hospital. A chill ran through his back. He pushed away the memory that triggered the shiver.

“Where can I find Saffron Meadows?” he asked the receptionist while he flashed his badge.

She locked eyes with him and continued talking on the phone, apparently giving directions to Good Samaritan Hospital.

Darcy stiffened but decided to wait. The clock on the wall showed 3:10 in the morning. He pulled his black notebook and reviewed the notes he wrote after talking to the deputies at the scene.

“Miss Meadows is with her boyfriend in Room 305,” the receptionist said after hanging up the phone. “Down the hall, to the right.”

“Thanks,” he said over his shoulder, already walking away.

The hallway was long and flanked by closed doors. He moved around a few nurses, carts and gurneys with patients probably being transferred after treatment in the ER. Lynch knocked on the door of Room 305, and opened it without waiting for an invitation, finding an Indian man lying on the bed, asleep. He had an angular face, very short, black, almost blue hair, and a prominent five-o’clock shadow. The most noticeable thing, however, was a nasty bump on the right side of his forehead, large as an egg and already dark purple.

A woman was holding his hand. Her dark wavy hair covered part of her face. She looked tall and lanky, and her legs went on forever. Her eyes were closed. Her fingers kept stroking the man’s hand.

He coughed, uncomfortable for intruding on such an intimate moment. She looked at him and stood, not letting go of the man’s hand. “Yes?”

“Are you Miss Meadows?”

“Yes.” She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear that came loose almost immediately.

“I’m Detective Darcy Lynch, with the Santa Clara Sheriff’s Office. I would like to ask you a few questions about the accident, if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure. Do we need to go outside?” She looked back at the bed. “I would like to be here in case Ranjan wakes up.”

He motioned to the chair she’d been sitting on, then grabbed another one, moving it closer.

“Please tell me what happened last night with as much detail as you can remember.”

“I’ll try.” She broke eye contact, as if she needed to look at the white sheets to remember what had happened just a couple hours earlier. “I was mad at Ranjan. We were driving back to San Jose from Santa Cruz, on 17. Well, you probably know all that.”

She stopped and looked at him, her eyes pleading for something. He didn’t know what she was asking of him, so he nodded for her to continue. When she didn’t, he said, “Miss Meadows, don’t worry. Just tell me what happened.”

“Call me Saffron, please.”

“Okay.”

“I was going a bit faster than I should have, because I just wanted to get home.”

“Why were you upset?”

She broke eye contact, blushing a little.

“It’s personal, really, but whatever. Ranjan’s Indian. Well, that’s obvious.” She turned away, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m not being very eloquent. I’m not normally this way. I must have hit my head,” she said with a shy grin.

Darcy smiled but didn’t say anything.

“Ranjan had just told me that his family was pressuring him again to consider an arranged marriage.” She moved both hands to her lap and rubbed them together. “I was mad, because we’ve been together almost a year and he’s kept our relationship a secret from them all this time.” She slouched in the chair and looked back at him. Her eyes were intense and a little red. “Anyway, that’s not important. I saw this big car in the rearview mirror. He was coming fast at us, with his high beams on and the other lights, the ones on top of the roof, and then he started acting all weird. I tried to let him pass, but he didn’t want to. He kept at my tail until he pulled up to my side of the car, and before I was able to slow down enough, he crashed into us on purpose.” Her voice was high. Her words came out fast, as if floodgates had opened and she only had seconds to share all of the information.

“Did you recognize the car?”

“No. I don’t think so. It was really dark. But I don’t even think I know anybody who drives one of those cars. Well, it was a truck, not a car. Anyway, he pushed me off the road, I tried to get back, but I hit a fallen tree and ended up rolling over. I asked Ranjan if he was okay, but he wouldn’t answer, and I couldn’t turn around because of the seat belt. I was trying to move when I saw the bat.”

“The bat?”

“Yes, I saw these Timberland boots—dark, dirty—and he was swinging a bat. I didn’t understand anything, but then I heard the bat hit the ground and saw the big hunting knife shining as he was kneeling down. I swear to God I thought he was going to kill me.”

She stopped and breathed. He waited for her.

“He got on his knees and cut my seat belt. At that moment I thought that maybe I was wrong, that maybe he just wanted to make sure I got out of the car before it exploded. But then he pulled me out so hard I thought he was going to rip my arm off. Then another man appeared and asked if we were okay, and the next thing I know the Bat Guy was running away toward the trees. By the time the other man came to my side, all I could think about was for him to save Ranjan.”

“Did you have a chance to see the face of the man with the bat?”

“No.”

“Was there anything you recognized about him? Or anything distinctive?”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea why he wanted to harm you?”

“No.”

“I talked to Mr. Simmons already, the man who stopped to help you and called 911. He did see the man run away as well, but he was too far for him to give us any details, with the exception of him being tall and stocky. He was also wearing a black baseball cap.”

“What about the truck?” she asked.

“Stolen. The owner didn’t even know. He was very upset when we woke him up to ask him where his car was. Even more so when he couldn’t see it in his driveway.”

Saffron smiled for a second. She was probably imagining the scene. A silence filled the room. Ranjan breathed but didn’t move.

“This wasn’t a hit-and-run,” Saffron said.

Darcy nodded slightly. He hated giving any information victims could then misconstrue, but this was too obvious to interpret any other way.

“You really have no idea why anybody would want to harm you.” It was more a statement than a question. “What about work? What do you do?”

“I’m a project manager for a tech company. Like everybody else in the Valley.”

“Any company secrets? Patents?”

“No. I don’t have access to any of that.”

“How about Mr. Balasubramanian?” he said, not looking at his notebook.

“He’s a senior manager, in sales, for the same company. But we don’t work on anything that exciting. We do plug-ins for web browsers.”

A nurse walked into the room and stopped. Her face was wrinkled and tired. Looking at Lynch and then Saffron, she said, “You have to leave now. Visiting hours were over a long time ago.”

“I’m staying until he wakes up.”

“Are you family?” she asked in a raspy, almost manly voice.

“I’m his girlfriend.”

“Sorry. You have to leave. Only family members can spend the night.”

Saffron remained seated. Detective Lynch stood but didn’t head toward the door.

The nurse stopped reading her clipboard and rested it on her hip. She locked eyes with Saffron. Finally, she said, “You can come back in four hours. If you don’t leave, I’ll call security.”

“No need to do that,” Darcy said, showing his badge. “Can’t you see that she really wants to stay?”

“The rules.” It was all she said before she brushed between them and started checking the drips and numbers displayed on the machine against her notes on the clipboard.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” Darcy said, gently placing a hand on Saffron’s elbow, coaxing her toward the door.

She didn’t resist. She exhaled silently and allowed him to pull her away from Ranjan.

The ride home was mostly silent. Darcy glanced at Saffron. She was looking out the window, gazing at empty streets and dark buildings. The sky was still pitch-black, and the streets glittered with the thin sheen of the earlier rain. It was all too bleak to help the mood.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said when he killed the engine outside her building.

Lynch nodded and got out of the car. “I’d like to check your place. Just to make sure there’s nothing weird going on.”

“Do you think he knows where I
live
?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

“Better to be cautious.”

Saffron used a fob to get through the gate and led him to the elevators.

“I normally take the stairs,” she said, a little shy, “but it’s been a long day.” She pushed the button for the second floor.

He smiled, understanding. She returned the smile and stared into his eyes a little too long. He wondered if she noticed that his left eye was different from the right one.

The elevator opened to a large veranda overlooking trees and a large, lighted pool. They turned right into a hall with tall beige and terracotta walls, rough to the touch. Saffron stopped in front of a sage door displaying the number 202 right below a small, lit lantern. A moth fluttered away when they arrived. Saffron ducked, even though it flew at least a foot away from her face.

She opened the door. Without turning back, she asked, “Do you know if moths are only around in the fall?”

“I have no idea.” The strangeness of the question surprised him.

Saffron shrugged. She stopped at the entrance. Darcy waited but when she didn’t step inside he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“My cat. She always welcomes me home.”

A shuffling noise coming from inside the apartment made her jump, almost stepping on Darcy.

“Wait here,” he whispered, walking past her.

He opened his jacket and released the snap on his gun holster. He moved slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of this unknown place. The streetlights helped him identify the edges of the furniture and the doorframes. There was another noise, a window sliding.

“Stop. Stop right there!” His voice was firm, authoritative.

Another sound followed, a thud that seemed further away. When Darcy reached the bedroom, the blinds were clanking against each other. He ran to the window and saw a man dressed in black running away from the building. Before he could make out anything distinctive, the figure turned the corner and was gone.

Detective Lynch ran back to the front door and said, “Go inside and lock the door. I’m going to see if I can find him.” On his way out, he yelled, “I’ll call for more help and will be back in a couple minutes. Don’t open the door for anybody but me.”

S
affron stared at the empty hallway. She pushed the door closed and locked it. Her arms wrapped around her body, tight, as if they could protect her from harm. After a few minutes, she filled the kettle with water and realized she still hadn’t seen Cat since they’d come in. She called out, “Hey, Cat, sweetie. Come here.” Saffron waited, expecting the black cat to run to her as she always did. She called out again, a little louder, but Cat didn’t come.

The high-pitch whistle of the kettle startled her. She poured the boiling water into the French press. This time she had doubled the amount of grounds she normally used. She swirled the coffee and pressed the plunger in. She called Cat again with the same result.

The knock on the door was firm. “Miss Meadows, it’s Detective Lynch.”

“Did you find him?” she asked before the door was fully open.

“No. By the time I got down, he was too far gone.” Before she could voice her disappointment, he said, “I’ve called in a BOL with the description we have. The streets are empty, so if he’s moving around, we’ll find him before he gets too far.”

The words didn’t feel as reassuring as he probably meant them.

“Coffee?” she asked, guiding him to the kitchen.

“I’d love some. Thank you.”

She poured two generous portions. “Milk? I don’t have sugar.”

“Black’s perfect.”

She walked past him toward the living room. “Please, sit,” she invited.

Before she reached the rich leather sofa, Cat appeared, not sure whether she wanted to meow or purr but unable to do both concurrently.

“There you are,” Saffron said, relieved. She picked up the skinny cat, squeezing her against her chest, and planted a loud kiss on her forehead. Instead of running away, Cat started to purr.

They sat at opposite sides of the couch, not quite looking at each other. After a few moments, Lynch said, “I’ve asked the San Jose PD to place a car outside, just in case.”

“I thought you worked for the Sheriff’s Office.”

“Yes, but they have more manpower, so they help us sometimes. Besides, you’re in their jurisdiction.”

She nodded, not really sure what that all meant. “You think he’ll come back?”

“I’d rather be prepared if he does. I can get them to follow you to work if you’re thinking of going tomorrow.”

Saffron was silent for a moment. She closed her eyes, then looked at her watch. “You mean today.” Her smile felt tight.

“Yes.”

“I haven’t even thought about it yet.” She took two sips of hot coffee.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

She looked at him as she scratched Cat behind the ears. “I feel as if I’m in a bad movie. These things don’t happen to regular people.” She stared at him as she drank the rest of her coffee.

“You’d be surprised,” he said, then shook his head slightly.

Her eyes widened and she shivered.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” He finished his coffee and stood to carry the empty mug back to the kitchen.

“Please, have some more,” she offered.

He brought back the press and filled both cups. “What I meant was that these types of awful things normally have explanations. We’ll figure out what’s going on in your case. The most important thing is to keep you safe until we do.”

She looked at him. For some reason she found it endearing that he was trying so hard to make her feel better about the whole thing.

“Yeah, I know. Not quite the best save I’ve had after putting my foot in my mouth.”

“Does this type of stuff happen often, then?”

“No. Actually, it doesn’t. But what’s true is that most crimes have rational explanations.” His eyes lit up, as if he had just thought of something. “You mentioned that Ranjan’s family wanted him to go through with an arranged marriage.”

She nodded.

“Do you think they may have anything to do with this?” he asked.

“You’re asking if they would’ve hired somebody to kill me?”

“Yes. Is it possible?”

“No,” she protested, a little louder than she intended. Then she thought for a few seconds. “I honestly don’t think they know I exist. That was the whole point of our argument. Well, that and the fact that he was going to go through with meeting prospective wives.”

“Oh,” Darcy said.

“Yeah, exactly. How screwed up is that?”

Darcy didn’t answer. “But if they knew of you, do you think they’re desperate enough to try something like this?”

“Long distance?” she asked. “I doubt it. The only family member who’s here is his uncle, and as I said, I doubt he knows who I am.” She took a sip of coffee. “Besides, Ranjan was eager enough to meet these women, so why risk killing me?” she added, bitterness in her voice. “All they need to do is find one that works.”

Her cell phone rang. “It must be the hospital. It’s not even six a.m. yet.” She jumped off the sofa and almost ran to the kitchen to pick up her cell. “Hello?”

“Miss Meadows, we wanted to let you know that Mr. Balasub…” The nurse stalled, clearly struggling with the full name. “Well, we just got the results of his MRI.”