Maniacal: A Detective Jade Monroe Crime Thriller Book 1 (14 page)

A noise sounded behind him. He turned and slipped off the gloves when he saw Melissa entering through the creaky barn doors. The evening sun hung lower in the sky and pierced the opening as she walked through. He could only see her as a silhouette walking toward him.

“Hello, David. I see you’ve begun without me.”

He held out his hand and shook hers. “Good to see you, Melissa, and thanks for adjusting your schedule to accommodate my short notice. What a great property. Shall we check out the house first?”

“Well, as long as we’re out here anyway.”

“Humor me, please. I’d rather end our tour outside. I’m anxious to see the house.”

“Oh… okay, then, right this way.”

Melissa entered the code on the lockbox attached to the heavy wooden front doors. She opened the box and removed the key, then slid the key into the dead bolt and turned it to the right. The lock clicked, and they entered the enormous foyer. Dime had no interest in touring the house, but he didn’t want to create suspicion on her end. He’d play the game for a while until the voices gave him the command. A blind side at the end of the tour would be worth waiting for.

“So, Mr. Ingles, why a house this large? Do you have a family?” Melissa carried several listing sheets as they walked.

“Oh, I guess we didn’t discuss much on Sunday, did we? If I remember correctly, you were heading out.”

She apologized. “That’s right, but late spring into summer is our busiest season. So, the family?”

“Yes, they’re in Philly. They’ll arrive once I pick out a home. My children are still in school for a few more weeks. They told me they want horses, hence this type of property.”

“That’s wonderful. How many kids do you have?”

“Two—a boy and a girl.”

“And the missus, does she like to cook? The kitchen is to die for.”

Dime chuckled under his breath.

Melissa smiled at him. “Let me show you what I mean. Right this way.”

Dime followed her through the large foyer. Saltillo tiles glistened on the floor. Down the oak-paneled hallway heading toward the back of the house was the living room with floor-to-ceiling windows. Heavy roughhewn beams accented the cathedral ceiling. The living room faced the back pasture where his nonexistent horses would graze. The kitchen was to their right, beyond the butler’s pantry and dining room.

He whistled, playing it up for all it was worth. “Nice kitchen. Anna’s going to love it.”

“I bet she will. The center island’s butcher-block top is three-inch-thick oak.” She glanced down at the listing sheet and read off the brand names. “The stove is Wolf, and the refrigerator is Sub-Zero. I’m sure your wife will appreciate those high-quality appliances. The subway tile backsplash is a recent addition. Everyone seems to love subway tiles these days.”

“Uh-huh. Let’s check out the bedrooms.”

“Of course. They’re all on the second floor. Right this way.”

Melissa led Dime through several more tiled hallways before they reached the staircase, which was just off the family room. She stopped for a few seconds to let him appreciate the enormous stacked-stone fireplace whose facade reached the ceiling.

“Here’s an interesting fact. The listing says that mantel”—she pointed to it—“was hewn from an oak tree that grew right on this property.”

Dime glanced at the mantel, then followed the stonework to the ceiling with his eyes. “It’s amazing.”

The house tour took another thirty minutes. Four large bedrooms were upstairs besides the master suite. Each bedroom had its own private bath with windows facing the front or back of the property.

“This home is wonderful. I’m sure my family will be more than happy to live here.” Dime noticed the twinkle in her eye and the grin that spread across her face when he made that comment.

All she cares about is making a sale. It’s only about the commission. They’re all the same—you’re nobody to her. Kill the bitch and get it over with.

Dime rubbed his temples. The time was near, and the voices were calling the shots.

“Are you okay? You just grimaced like a headache was coming on,” Melissa said.

“What? Oh, sorry, I’m fine. I get seasonal allergy headaches now and then. Shall we move on to the garage and the outbuildings?” he asked. He reached into his front pocket and felt for the gloves.

“Sure, right this way.” She led Dime back downstairs and through the mudroom into the five-car garage. “This is the ultimate garage. It’s perfect for three cars, a few toys and bicycles, and it’s heated.”

“That’s a plus. So we have the horse barn and the other building. What was that one used for?”

“I believe it’s a tractor shed. There’s a ten-acre pasture, you know.”

“Of course. Let’s spend some time in the horse barn. I had just walked in when you arrived earlier. My kids will be excited to hear more about it.”

Melissa read the outbuilding descriptions from the listing sheet. “Apparently, there are twelve stalls in total. Have you ever owned horses?” As she talked, she entered through the double barn doors for the second time.

“Not yet.”

“Well, it’s an ambitious enterprise, I’m sure. I hate to say it, but this beautiful residence has been for sale for eight months, and you’re only the second person I’ve shown it to. I imagine it’s out of most people’s price range.”

Dime smiled as he reached into his pocket and slipped on the gloves while he followed behind her. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

Melissa continued walking. “I guess this is the tack room, whatever that means.” She giggled coquettishly as she entered the area. “I’ll admit, I don’t know a thing about horses.”

“Or about taking safety measures when you’re alone with a stranger.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

She turned toward him and stared. Terror spread across her face as she acknowledged the predicament in which she found herself. Her eyes darted left and right for a way to escape. He blocked the only exit from the room with his large body. She didn’t have time to duck before he swung a bridle that caught her in the face. She stumbled backward and hit the rough wooden wall. He swung the bridle again and again, connecting with her face each time, until she was unconscious. Blood ran down her forehead and dripped off her chin, soaking her white blouse.

He smirked and cocked his head while he stared at her.
You aren’t that hot anymore, are you?
He gathered the gear he needed.
That was so easy. I love blind sides. If only I had a picture of their faces at the moment of realization.

Dime wadded up the two listing sheets and grabbed the bridle and a length of leather strap.

“This should do it. Oh yeah, I can’t forget the dime.”

He started with the prep work by opening the small bottle of hand sanitizer he kept in his other front pocket. He poured some in her hands and rubbed them together. He’d shaken her hand earlier and didn’t want to take any chances. He was careful not to touch anything in the house while his hands were ungloved. Her car keys were in her blazer pocket. He pulled them out.

The balled-up listing sheets were jammed deep down her throat. He cleaned the dime with the hand sanitizer and placed it under her tongue while humming a little ditty that was stuck in his head. He closed her mouth and pinched her nose. Her body jerked involuntarily while it was being starved of oxygen. Dime glanced at his watch and held his position another three minutes before releasing her and checking for a pulse. There wasn’t any. He placed the bridle in her mouth, wrapped the leather strap around her neck, and carried her to a stall. With the strap, he secured her in a sitting position to the stall gate from the inside. It would be more difficult to see her that way. He wanted the cops to earn their living, and he wasn’t going to make finding her too easy on them.

He walked to the fifth stall on the left and opened the bag he had placed there earlier. A clean change of clothes and another pair of latex gloves were inside. He rolled up the bloody gloves and removed the clothing he had on, then tossed them into the bag. After putting on the clean pair of gloves, he flipped the toggle switch for the barn lights and pulled the doors closed. Back inside the house, he walked through to the garage and hit the button to open one of the overhead doors. He drove her car in, then opened the briefcase that sat on the passenger seat. Inside were her purse, cell phone, and a calendar listing all of her appointments for the month. He pulled the battery out of her phone and threw it back in, then closed the briefcase. He grabbed it by the leather handle—it would go along with him. Dime got out, adjusted the seat back to the position Melissa had had it in, and closed the car door. He wouldn’t make that mistake twice. A scan across the garage told him it looked fine. He lowered the overhead door and entered the house. A slow, methodical walk from room to room would guarantee him the house looked the way it did when they entered. He turned off the lights and exited out the front.

He put the key back into the lockbox and clicked it closed.

Dime checked the time—seven thirty. He climbed into his Jeep and drove away. The voices in his head laughed with him as he headed toward home.

He wondered how to keep Melissa’s coworkers from missing her. He wasn’t quite ready for her to be found yet. He’d have to think about that, maybe while lounging in the basement, enjoying a beer. A thought popped into his mind as he passed North Bend. He pulled over and turned around.

I’ll text one of her coworkers from her phone and make something up. I have to do it at Realty World’s office, though.

Dime headed in that direction—it was nearly eight o’clock now. He drove by the office slowly, making sure the lights were off and the parking lot was empty. He pulled in behind the building, parked, and retrieved her cell phone and battery from the briefcase. With his own phone, he pulled up Realty World’s website and clicked on the list of agents. Each name popped up on the screen. He put the battery back in her phone, turned it on, and noticed it was almost dead. He’d only need a minute. A quick look around confirmed he was still alone. There were no headlights approaching or people walking the area. Dime scrolled through her contact list and found a name that would do just fine—Adriana Cruz. She was another top earner at their agency. He pressed the yellow envelope icon and tapped out a short text.

Adriana, I had to leave town abruptly—family emergency. I may be gone for a few days. I’ll be in touch. Thanks.

Dime smiled. He knew if it got that far and the cops pinged her phone, the last message would show it came right from Realty World’s own parking lot.

Sounds legit to me.
He removed the battery again and drove home.

I changed the bird’s water and filled up the seed bowl as I talked on the phone. Multitasking seemed necessary every time I spoke to my mom. She was the only person I knew that could talk on the phone for two hours at a time. My Bluetooth was a godsend.

“Yes, I’m sure, Mom. Amber isn’t going to be an inconvenience. Actually, now that I’ve given it some thought, I’m looking forward to having her as a roommate. She’s a breath of fresh air. You know she’s moving because of Bruce, don’t you? Maybe you should talk to your husband about keeping his distance until she’s out of the house. Bruce is strange, and you know it.”

“Jade, please don’t start with me. I’m doing my best to keep the peace.”

I filled my wineglass and set it on the coffee table, then clicked the remote and turned on the TV. I muted the sound.

“Whatever. Amber is moving in this weekend, but her junk is staying there until I’m out of the house. She said you wanted to make her bedroom into a craft room?”

“Yes, I’ve taken up scrapbooking and knitting.”

“Cool. Anyway, we’re going to check out a few more condos on Saturday. I’m definitely ready for a mental health break. Maybe looking at a few potential places to live will be a fun distraction.”

“Do you want to talk about it, honey?”

“Sorry, Mom, it’s work related. Read the paper. You’ll get some idea of what I’ve been doing lately. Right now I just want to veg out and drink my wine.”

“You know, your birthday is Saturday. Let’s all go out to dinner after you girls look at the condos and Amber moves her things in.”

“Okay, I can do that as long as no shit hits the fan before Saturday night. You make the plans, and Amber and I will meet you wherever you decide.”

“Promise me you’ll work on your cursing, honey.”

“Sure thing, Mom. Good night.”

I looked through my closet for something appropriate to wear to Morris King’s funeral. Terrance told me during a phone call earlier that the funeral was scheduled for Friday at eleven a.m. with a luncheon to follow. As far as I knew, Detective Lindstrom and Lieutenant Colgate would be there too.

I slid the wooden hangers from right to left along the pole and found a navy-blue pantsuit that would work fine. A floral scarf wrapped around the collar of a simple white blouse would accent it nicely.

My thoughts returned to what had been on my mind before the phone call from my mom. I knew the flowers I received yesterday hadn’t come from Amber. The florist said she couldn’t remember what the person looked like that bought them, but they paid in cash. According to her, it had been a hectic day with a huge wedding flower order.

I didn’t pursue it. Lance always told me I was good at that—avoidance. I was a great cop—according to him—but even better at avoiding life issues, like the lack of communication between us. The only issue I was aware of was that my husband was having an affair with another salesperson at the Toyota dealership where he worked. I was pretty sure he didn’t want to communicate with me about that. Fast forward ten months—she was in and I was out. I’d been replaced, and life went on.

After the ten o’clock news, I went to bed, hoping for a decent night’s sleep but not expecting it.

The alarm sounded at six a.m. I was awake anyway and waiting for its loud beep to go off. I got up, stumbled to the window, and turned the wand on the blinds. The sun poured in—it felt good. I started the coffeepot, said good morning to Polly and Porky, fed them, and hit the shower. I appreciated the fact that my hair was normally my friend. If the weather was dry and the humidity was low, my thick, straight hair behaved with very little effort on my part. A quick comb-through, a touch of mascara, and a little blush were all I needed to look presentable on most workdays.