Ring Around the Rosy (3 page)

The minute Susan opened her
apartment door, the message light on her answering machine caught her
attention. It looked like everybody and their brother had called. She pressed
the play button and listened to her messages while she put her groceries away.

The first, a telemarketer, wanted
to sell her a new roof. The second, she replayed twice to make sure she heard
it correctly.

“Susan, I’m giving the follow-up
on that murder to Dan Hill. He’s a seasoned reporter. I’ll talk to you later,”
Ernie Price, her editor, said.

“A seasoned reporter!” Susan
stomped her foot and threw the bread on the counter. “He can’t do that! That’s
my story,” she yelled while the third message, a congratulations, from her
aunt, played.

“That’s not fair.”

Bella jumped off the counter and
hid under a chair.

At the fourth message, Susan
froze. That same raspy voice from the early-morning caller came through the
machine. “Remember,” the harsh voice said “Jack be nimble...tonight.” Then the
line went dead.

Susan’s hands shook as she dialed
the number Detective Morgan had given her. She had to hang up twice after
hitting the wrong buttons. Finally, she got it right.

“Dave, uh, Detective Morgan.”
Goose bumps broke out on her arms. Her stomach tensed. She tried to shake off
the feeling of impending doom. “It’s me, uh, Susan Weston, he called again. He
left a message.”

“I’ll be right over. Don’t erase
that tape.”

* * *

Without waiting for a reply, Dave
hung up, got into his car, flipped on the siren, and rushed over to Susan’s.
She could be in danger. They had no idea what they were dealing with. One man
was already dead, if this caller was indeed the killer.

“Damn it, it sounds like he’s
going to kill again, and soon.” Dave smacked his hand on the steering wheel.

Just what he needed — a serial
killer. As if dealing with one murder wasn’t enough. He pulled up in front of
Susan’s apartment and threw open the door as he shifted into park and pulled
the keys out of the ignition. He flew up the steps and flashed his badge to
Horace, who let him in. Without waiting for the elevator, he took the steps two
at a time. Why he felt the need to rush, he had no idea. The guy only
called.
 
It wasn’t like he was in there
trying to kill her.

He slowed down, caught his breath.
This was insane. What the hell was wrong with him? It was more than the case.
He had never reacted like this before. It was Susan. She had this strange
effect on him. He wanted to see her again, and this was the perfect excuse.
Still, he had to take these calls seriously.

He knew damn good and well that
wasn’t it. Hell, he didn’t even believe these calls were real. More than likely
some nutcase trying to make a name for himself, trying to get noticed. He
walked up the last flight of stairs. She wasn’t in imminent danger. No reason
to panic.

At the top of the stairs, he
stopped to catch his breath and smiled. He really couldn’t wait to see her
again.

* * *

Susan sat with Bella curled up on
her lap, half afraid to move.

Why her? Why had this crazy person
singled her out? She wasn’t even an experienced reporter.

The doorbell rang, and she looked
through the peephole to make sure it was Detective Morgan, who’d obviously
gotten past the security door again. She unlocked the door, and before she had
a chance to ask, he pushed his way in.

 
“Where’s the tape?” The worry lines on his
face deepened.

Susan closed the door and crossed
her arms. “Well, hello to you, too.” The man absolutely infuriated her with his
rudeness.

“Sorry. Hello.”

Susan pressed the playback button.
“You’ll have to listen to a couple of others first.” Her body trembled while
they listened to the tape. She hated this. What had come over her? She needed
to find the calm, steadfast, good-in-a-crisis woman, she remembered herself to
be.

The evil in that voice got to her.
She walked away and stood in the doorway, studying Detective Morgan. His dark
good looks somehow calmed her. The worry lines around his eyes told her he took
this caller seriously.

He drummed his fingers on the
counter while he listened to the telemarketer and shifted his weight from one
foot to the other during her editor’s comments, and straightened up when the
sinister voice came on. After listening to the message, he pulled the tape from
the machine.

“I have to take this.” He put the
tape into an evidence bags and sealed it,

Susan nodded. She understood a
little about police procedure. “No problem; I have other blank tapes.”

“The phone records showed the
first call came from a nearby phone booth.” Dave arched an eyebrow. “Funny,
it’s just down the street. Wouldn’t have taken much for you to make a call like
that on your way home.”

The statement didn’t justify a
comment. Hopefully, her glare spoke for itself.

“Is there someplace you can stay
for a few days? This might be a crank, but it sounds like the real thing. Right
now, we have no way of knowing.”

She shook her head.

Did he really think she called herself?
What a jerk. Anger welled up in her. “Look, just go! If I get any more calls,
I’ll let you know.” She grabbed a bottle of juice from the refrigerator and
slammed the door.

“And, I’m not leaving. No one’s
going to scare me out of my home.” Besides, she had work to do — another
feature article — and she needed to talk to Ernie. She had to convince him not
to take her off this story, especially now. If these calls were real, this was
going to be big. It might be her ticket into the big time, but first she had to
prove herself.

Why didn’t he leave? Why was he
standing there, staring at her? The phone calls had shaken her more than she
cared to admit, but she’d be damned if she’d leave her home. And like she told
her mother, killers don’t go after reporters. She was his contact person. His
call warned of the next victim, not threatening her.

“Okay,” Dave said. “I had a
feeling you’d be stubborn. If he calls again, you know what to do. And
Susan...” He pointed at the windows. “Cover those windows. We don’t know who
we’re dealing with. He killed once. He has nothing to lose.” He turned to
leave. “Oh, by the way, it might not be a bad idea to listen to your editor.
Let a more experienced reporter take over this story.”

“This is my story!” She slammed
the door behind him as he left, almost hitting him in the back. Now he had
overstepped his bounds.

Who did he think he was, telling
her what to do? Bad enough she had to deal with Ernie.

If she was a man they wouldn’t
tell her what to do.
 
She pulled open the
door. “No one’s taking this story away from me. I’ve worked too hard for it,”
she yelled after him and slammed the door again.

* * *

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Dave looked back and smiled. “I’ll try to check back with you later,” he said
to the closed door.

Still, he couldn’t help worrying
about her. If this caller was legit, then she was being stalked by a killer. So
why had he let her think she was still a suspect? He saw how the call affected
her. The poor thing was terrified. Yet, he continued to bait her. If he wasn’t
careful, she’d slap him again.

Amazing how she controlled
herself, tried to hide it. Still, he saw the fear in her dark eyes. She was
putting on a front. For some reason, he liked when her defenses were down.
Something about her struck him as too independent and cocky for her own good.
But it scared him, too.

If this guy knew her phone number,
he knew her address, as well. And the fact that he made the phone call from a
nearby phone booth made Dave wonder if he watched her, even now.

Maybe it’s a good thing the call
scared her, too. He hoped she wouldn’t do anything stupid like try to meet this
guy. This was one woman, who didn’t need a man to tell her what to do, and she
wasn’t going to leave or give up that story. She definitely had a stubborn
streak in her.

Well, he tried. That’s all he
could do. Maybe he’d have one of the guys keep an eye on the building. Best he
could do was to keep close tabs on her. She didn’t need to know about it.

He hurried down the steps, not
bothering to wait for the elevator.

* * *

Dave’s attitude confused Susan.
One minute, he acted like she was the prime suspect, the next he seemed
concerned for her safety. She threw a pillow across the room. Bella ran and hid
under the couch.

“Damn, damn, damn,” she shouted to
the empty room. “I can’t believe he considers me a suspect. Give up my story.
Who did he think he was, anyway? If he hadn’t heard Ernie say that, he would
never have thought of it.”

Susan picked up the pillow. Why
had she let him get under her skin that way? Throwing things wasn’t going to
solve anything. But she’d show him.

She’d show them all, somehow or
another.

And she’d show Detective David
Morgan that she didn’t commit the murder. Although right now, angry as she was,
the thought of strangling him wouldn’t be too difficult. A shiver ran down her
spine. How could she even think something like that? Damn that man. Even angry,
she never wanted to kill anyone before. He just made her so flipping mad, and
he was so good-looking.

Susan shook her head. Not a good
way to think. A relationship with someone like Dave would only complicate her
plans. Better to stay away from him.

She picked up the phone. “May as
well call Ernie and get that over with.” She dialed the editor’s number and
argued and pleaded with him to no avail for almost twenty minutes. “Come on,
Ernie, you know I can handle it.”

He wouldn’t budge. ”I’m giving the
follow-up to Dan Hill.”

Any mention of the phone calls
would be pointless. Ernie wouldn’t change his mind, and he’d probably think the
calls were cranks. She wasn’t sure, herself, so no point in mentioning them.
Besides, the last thing she needed was Dan Hill interviewing her and hanging
around. No thanks. Not with his superior attitude. He’d made it to the top
before her only because he was a man, and Ernie gave him the best stories.
Nope, she didn’t need Dan hanging around.

“And, Susan, don’t forget your
appointment with Mark Drake.” Ernie reminded her of the feature story on the
new botanical garden before he hung up.

Ernie knew she could hold her own.
Why wouldn’t he let her follow up on this story? Any first-year journalist
could do it.

Fluff pieces. That’s what he
assigned her.

Susan looked at her watch and
realized she only had an hour before the appointment. Shoot! She hurried to
meet Gary Rosenberg, one of the paper’s photographers. Not her favorite person
to work with.

A picture of Gary came to mind.
Not bad-looking, medium build, sand-colored hair. He wasn’t much older than
her. He just wasn’t her type. She liked Gary okay, and they worked well
together, and he always acted professional and efficient, but he was too quiet
for her. Definitely not her type. She liked the tall-dark-and-handsome types.
Outspoken, sure of themselves. Like Detective Morgan. No way could Gary hold a
candle to him.

Good grief, she was only working
with Gary. Why was she comparing everyone all of a sudden? She’d better get
that detective out of her mind, and darn quick.

Still, she couldn’t get a picture
of Gary out of her mind, either. Nondescript was probably the best way to
describe him. If he entered a room, no one would notice, and if he left, no one
would miss him. But he always treated her polite and friendly. Once he even
hinted about a date, but she didn’t take the bait.

She sighed. This was going to be a
ho-hum story about the new Botanical Gardens. Though they were beautiful, they
held no attraction for her. Flowers were not her thing.

Susan found it difficult to write
about something that held so little interest to her. But privilege held its
ranks, and until she advanced to the top, it paid the bills. She and Gary were
meeting with the Garden Director Mark Drake and Horticulturist Jeff Hollings at
three o’clock. It promised to be a long, dull afternoon.

* * *

She pulled into the parking lot
and hurried to the gardens. Gary stood at the entrance and looked at his watch,
but smiled.

Okay, so she was a little late.
What was the big deal?

“Nice touch on the story this
morning, with that nursery rhyme headline.” He patted her back.
“Congratulations. Your first big one, wasn’t it?”

She forced a smile. “Thanks, Gary.
Yeah, it was my first big one, but Ernie pulled me off. Hill is taking over.”

“How can Ernie do that? You were
first at the scene. It’s your story. That’s not fair.”