Читать книгу Obsession & Eyewitness: Obsession / Eyewitness - Carol Ericson - Страница 13

“I DON’T SEE ANYTHING.” Colin’s broad shoulder pressed against hers as he leaned forward to squint into the fog-shrouded night.

Could he feel her shivering? Would he realize it had as much to do with his masculine scent and the feel of him next to her as it did with the flickering light she’d seen at Columbella House?

She clenched her teeth and released her grip on Colin’s wrist. Amanda’s blood hadn’t even dried on the street and here she was getting giddy over a man’s touch. Maybe that email had it right: Like mother, like daughter?

Jerking away from the window, Michelle swiped her keys from the table and scooped up a flashlight from a basket by the door. “I’m going to check it out.”

“Are you crazy?” Colin grabbed her hand. “Someone just murdered your friend, and he’s still out there.”

“That’s right. Someone just murdered my friend, practically on my doorstep, and I’m not going to sit here and do nothing.” She wrestled from his grasp and jingled her house keys in her palm. “I won’t be walking over to Columbella House by myself, anyway. The cops and the county CSI guy are still out there.”

Now that she’d blurted out her brash statement, more from guilt than anything else, Michelle dragged her feet to the front door. She didn’t really want to cross the street to Columbella House. She didn’t want to go anywhere near that gloomy old Victorian, so out of place among the bungalows and beach cottages of Coral Cove.

Colin yanked his gun bag from the coffee table by its strap and hitched it around his waist. “If you saw a light at the house, I believe you. But the cops probably already canvassed that area. They might not be so anxious to cover that ground again.”

Michelle released a pent-up breath. Now she could save face and actually follow through with her bold plan. She’d feel a lot safer with Colin and his gun by her side.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged and stepped onto the porch.

The spotlight still illuminated the area where Amanda had parked her car, although the car itself had been towed. The two remaining Coral Cove officers and the crime scene investigator from the county looked like they were doing more talking than investigating. A murder like this in Coral Cove would tax the resources of the small-town cops. The P.D. would have to work with the county sheriffs and if Amanda’s murder had anything to do with Tiffany’s murder, they’d have to call in the FBI… Good thing they wouldn’t have to go far to find an agent.

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker, Colin approached the two police officers crouching next to the dark stain on the asphalt. Michelle followed him but allowed his broad back to block her view of the crime scene.

“Are you guys finished out here?” Colin swept his arm across the damp crime scene tape hanging limply in the fog.

Jerry Donnelly, one of the Coral Cove P.D. officers answered, “Yeah, we’re done. Nobody else even heard Michelle’s scream.”

Colin faced the guy from the county. “Did you collect all the evidence?”

The guy patted the bag hanging from his shoulder. “Fingernails, hair, blood, a cigarette butt and assorted bits and pieces. Hopefully, we’ll get more from the body before the autopsy is performed.”

Michelle’s stomach rolled and she ground her teeth together.

Colin bent down and plucked something from the ground. “You missed something.”

The investigator snorted. “That’s a petal. The murder occurred outside on a street. I don’t know about you Fibbies, but we don’t collect every twig and every speck of dirt as evidence.”

“It’s a rose petal. It’s not a twig or a speck of dirt.”

The other man pointed to the rosebushes lining Michelle’s fence. “Yeah, it’s a rose petal. Just like all those other rose petals on those bushes.”

“It’s your case…for now.” Colin slipped the petal inside his pocket. “Michelle saw a light over at Columbella House. Did you guys already check over there, Officer Donnelly?”

Jerry straightened his shoulders and gave a brisk nod. “We already canvassed the yard. Nothing.”

The CSI investigator shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other. “I have to go to the police department to meet with Detective Marsh. You coming?”

Jerry brushed his hands together. “We’ll come with you. Michelle, are you going to be okay? You can come and stay at our place tonight.”

Michelle glanced at her watch and then shifted her gaze toward Columbella. Not much night left. “I’ll be fine. I have good, sturdy locks on my door and a phone by my bed.”

“We’ll send a patrol car by a few times before dawn.” Jerry turned to his partner, a wide-eyed new recruit, and jerked his thumb toward the patrol car.

Michelle watched as the fog gobbled up their taillights. “I guess they weren’t interested in another look at Columbella House.”

“Are you?” Colin raised his eyebrows in question.

“Sure.” Michelle licked her lips. “Are you and your gun going with me?”

“Absolutely.” Colin unzipped his gun bag and slid his Glock into his pocket. “Do you have that flashlight handy?”

Michelle flicked on the flashlight and waved it in front of her. They crossed the street together, and she clenched her hand at her side to keep from hooking on to Colin’s arm.

He unlatched the gate and pushed it open, the rusty hinges squeaking in protest. The abandoned house peered at them through windows streaked with dirt and grime.

With his hand in his pocket, Colin crept toward the sagging porch. He pointed down and Michelle followed with the flashlight, which illuminated steps of splintered wood. “Nobody’s been through this entrance for quite a while.”

“I didn’t see the light from inside the house. It was somewhere in the side yard.”

They shuffled through the dead leaves toward the side of the house, the shaky beam of the flashlight lighting the way.

Colin tugged at the gate leading to the backyard of the sprawling house. “It’s locked, Michelle. This is probably as far as the police got. And if you saw a light, it couldn’t have come from the backyard. You never would’ve seen a light from back there.”

Michelle rolled her stiff shoulders. “Maybe the light did come from the house.”

“If it did, I’m not up to breaking and entering.”

“Neither am I.” She slumped against the gate. “Maybe I imagined the light. Maybe it was just a reflection from the police lights on the street. Columbella House has been giving me the creeps for years.”

“It’s a blight on the town. I wish some member of the St. Regis family would either sell the place or raze it.”

“Were you still here when Kylie Grant’s mother hung herself from the balcony?” Michelle shivered and pushed off the cold chain link of the gate.

“No, I wasn’t. She’d copied a previous suicide. When Mia St. Regis’s sister, Marissa, took off before her wedding, some said she’d killed herself, too.”

“Yeah, but then both Mia and Marissa’s fiancé got those letters from Marissa explaining that she and Mia’s boyfriend had taken off together. I suppose the house is Mia’s now. Can’t blame her for not wanting to deal with it.” Michelle tugged at the sleeves of her sweater. “I felt sorry for her even though she’s not the type of woman who inspires pity. I guess Coral Cove Drive has seen its share of scandal.”

Colin wedged a finger beneath her chin. “You had it tough in high school when your mom ran off with that senior at Coral Cove High.”

Michelle blinked, afraid to meet the sympathy in his eyes. “I had it tough before that, since I was tall and skinny and wore glasses and braces.”

He pinched her chin and grinned. “It didn’t help that you were a bookworm and as smart as all get-out—a total bully magnet. I’m surprised you didn’t escape Coral Cove like the St. Regis twins did.”

“I had to take care of my dad. When Mom left with that boy, Dad collapsed.”

“Do the kids still think this place is haunted?”

“Not just the kids. In fact, it makes me uneasy just standing here even if you do have a gun in your pocket.” Michelle shifted away from Colin’s warm touch and the toe of her shoe lodged against a stepping stone buried beneath the mulch. She tripped and sprawled onto her hands and knees, the flashlight bouncing out of her hand.

Colin dropped beside her. “Are you all right?”

“I banged my knee on a cement stepping stone. I didn’t even see those before.” She sat back and rubbed her throbbing knee. You could dress up a klutz but she’d still be a klutz.

Leaning across her body, Colin reached for the flashlight and cursed.

“What’s wrong? Is it broken?”

He stepped across her and kneeled on the ground, one hand now grasping the flashlight and the other picking through the dirt and leaves. He cursed again, his body tensing.

“What did you find, Colin?” Michelle’s heart banged in her chest, her breath coming out in short spurts.

He extended his hand toward her, cupping several rose petals in his palm.

Michelle swallowed. He’d seemed unusually interested in a petal he’d picked up near Amanda’s body. What significance did a few rose petals have?

“They’re rose petals.” Her words sounded stupid hanging between them. “L-like the one at the crime scene?”

Colin jerked the beam from the flashlight across the tangled bushes bordering Columbella House. “Do you see any roses here, live ones?”

Michelle squinted into the darkness. “No, but I’m sure the Vincents have some. Dorothy Vincent is always giving me tips on mine. Couldn’t the wind have blown the petals over here? What’s with the petals?”

Colin hooked his arm beneath hers and pulled her up. “Let’s get out of here.”

Colin charged through the front yard and this time Michelle clung unabashedly to his arm until they were through the rusty front gate.

Opening his hand, Colin aimed the light at the delicate yellow petals. “Do the Vincents have yellow roses in their yard?”

“I think so.”

“And what about you? Are your roses yellow? The petal I found near the body was pink.”

“I have both pink and yellow. Do you think the killer left the petals near Amanda’s body? Then what? He ran across the street to Columbella House and showered more petals there?”

Michelle didn’t know a thing about murder investigations, but she was a mathematician and she knew logic. And this didn’t seem logical.

Ignoring her questions, Colin dropped to his hands and knees just outside the crime scene tape. He trailed his fingers across the ground and peeled something from the asphalt.

Holding it up to the light, he said, “It’s another petal, a pink one this time. I think Amanda’s murderer left the petals here and the Coral Cove P.D. didn’t see them, didn’t recognize them as being out of place.”

Michelle folded her arms across her churning stomach. “You’re scaring me, Colin. What is all this about?”

The coiled intensity of his frame relaxed and he tipped his head from side to side as if to relieve a kink in his neck. “I’m sorry, Michelle. Let’s go inside.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her body flush against his. His warmth seeped into her, but her teeth insisted on chattering, anyway. Colin had suspected a link between Tiffany Gunderson’s death and Amanda’s murder, and he’d just found it.

After Michelle unlocked her front door, Colin propelled her to the couch, pressing his hand against the small of her back. “Sit.”

She sank into the corner, curling her long legs beneath her. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he released a long breath, obviously coming to some decision. “Do you remember a girl from your class named Belinda Frank?”

The name drew a visceral response from Michelle, as a sour taste flooded her mouth and her hands curled into fists. “I remember her. You talked about my being a magnet for bullies? Well, she must have had the strongest magnetic field of all because she was the worst. She was a witch.”

“Well, ding-dong, the witch is dead.”

Michelle’s jaw dropped as a confusing tumble of emotions swirled through her brain. “I—I didn’t mean… I’d never wish…”

Colin skimmed his fingertips along her cheek. “I know that. Nobody in town knew about her death?”

“The Frank family wasn’t local. They moved here Belinda’s sophomore year and then moved out after she graduated. Nobody could even locate her to send an invitation to the reunion.”

“One of the reasons they couldn’t locate her is because she changed her name to Gigi French.”

“Gigi French? Sounds like a hooker.”

“She worked as a stripper in Vegas.”

Michelle ran a hand through her tangled hair and closed her eyes. “How did she die?”

“Someone slit her throat and then showered her with rose petals.”

Choking, Michelle hid her face in her hands. “They don’t know who did it? How’d you get involved?”

“No. A buddy of mine on the Las Vegas P.D. called me because he saw the Coral Cove connection. Thought I might have known her, but she started at CCHS after I graduated. I didn’t think much about it until Tiffany Gunderson fell down that elevator shaft in San Francisco. I knew the Gunderson family, so I recognized the name.”

“But Tiffany’s death was an accident, wasn’t it?”

“I figured it was when I first heard about it, but I thought it was a weird coincidence that two young women from the same small-town high school had died violent deaths less than a month apart. So I contacted the SFPD about Tiffany’s accident, and suddenly the two deaths didn’t look like a coincidence.”

“Why?” Michelle drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs to keep them from bouncing.

“Both women graduated the same year…and there were rose petals in the elevator shaft.”

Michelle leaned her forehead on her knees, not even minding the pain from her bruises. “So the FBI sent you back home to investigate?”

Colin cleared his throat. “Not exactly.”

Turning her head to the side, Michelle asked, “What does that mean?”

“Technically, I’m on vacation. The FBI didn’t send me here.”

“Great. So this is all off the record and below the radar?”

“That’s right.”

“But now that the killer has struck again, this could be a case for the FBI. A serial killer in different states? Sounds like a job for the Feds to me.”

Colin stretched his arms above his head and yawned, and Michelle’s gaze dropped to the muscles shifting across his chest and bunching his shoulders. He looked even better than he had as a cocky teenager.

“It might be a job for the Feds, but not necessarily for this Fed. The FBI doesn’t usually assign agents to cases in their hometowns.”

“What are you going to do?” Michelle sucked in a breath and held it. She didn’t want another agent on the case. She wanted Colin Roarke to stay right here in Coral Cove. In fact, she wanted him camping outside her house.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m staying on vacation in Coral Cove, but I can use a little help since I won’t be with my regular partner. Do you have any idea why someone might be killing the female graduates of your class?”

“Me?” Michelle’s voice squeaked in a totally embarrassing manner. “You want my help?”

He tapped the side of his head. “You were the smartest girl in your class. Can you think of any reason why these three were targeted?”

“I have no idea. Tiffany and Amanda hung out with the same crowd and were both cheerleaders, but Belinda wasn’t really part of that group.” She slid her legs from beneath her and propped her feet on the coffee table. “Besides, you’re asking the wrong CCHS Dolphin. I didn’t hang with that crowd, either, and I don’t know what they might have been into. I didn’t become Amanda’s friend until later.”

“But you know who was in that clique. Can you give me a list of names?”

“Sure.” Michelle’s heart skipped a few beats at the thought of helping Colin with this case. She wanted Amanda’s killer brought to justice, and she had every confidence Colin was the man to do it.

Colin pointed to the weak light pressing against the front windows. “We’ve been up all night. I don’t know about you, but I usually need some sleep before I can function. Will you be okay here alone?”

“I’ll be fine.” Michelle scrambled from the couch. “Like you said, it’s morning, and once the news of Amanda’s murder gets out, Coral Cove Drive is going to resemble Grand Central Station. I probably won’t be alone here for days.”

“That’s a good thing.” Colin snapped his gun bag around his waist and shuffled toward the door. Grabbing the handle he turned and she almost ran into his chest. “Be careful, Michelle. You may not have run with that bunch, but you graduated with them.”

Michelle twisted her fingers in front of her. “I’ll be careful, and you need to find Amanda’s killer. She didn’t deserve that.” She waved a hand toward the street, tears pooling in her eyes, her nose stinging.

Colin hugged her, drawing her head onto his comfortable shoulder. Closing her eyes, Michelle wound her arms around his waist. He smelled tangy and fresh like the sea.

She mumbled into his chest. “Thanks for everything, Colin. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through this night without you.”

He drew back and wiped a tear from her face with the rough pad of his thumb. “I don’t know. I think I might have added to your grief and pain.”

“No. If I’m going to help Amanda, I need to know everything. And if I’m a target for this maniac, I need to know that, too.”

“You’ve turned into quite a woman, Michelle Girard.” He touched his finger to her nose, dropped it to her lips and then stepped into the overcast morning.

A few hours of fitful sleep later, Michelle stumbled into her bathroom to shower and then changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. The events of last night seemed like a dream, and she crept to her front window to make sure it had all really happened.

She staggered and clutched the windowsill as the reality of Amanda’s murder hit her like a wrecking ball to the gut. A crowd of people ringed the police tape, staring at the bloodstain on the street. Amanda’s blood.

She wanted to scream at them, shoo away the vultures. While she’d been sleeping, she’d heard her doorbell ring and a few knocks on the door. They’d question her endlessly about last night.

Michelle rubbed her eyes and retreated to her kitchen, where she cooked some eggs and made toast. Once she’d eaten, she wrapped her hands around a cup of steaming tea and tiptoed to her front door again and peeked out the window.

People still mingled in the street, forming clutches of gossip groups and then breaking apart to form new groups. Michelle took a few steadying breaths before opening her front door. She’d have to face them sooner or later.

She stepped onto her front porch, taking a sip of fragrant, hot tea. The overcast morning looked a little brighter than it had the past few weeks, giving hope that the sun might struggle through today. Would Colin have another look at Columbella House by the light of day? She wanted to be there with him.

She squinted as a news van parked on the street. The newshounds sure hadn’t wasted any time. A man scrambled from the passenger side of the van and waved his hands over his head.

“Ms. Girard! Can we talk to you?”

“No!” She stepped forward, cupping her hand around her mouth and yelled again. “No!”

As her bare feet moved to the edge of her porch, her toes met some damp leaves. She glanced down. She gasped and dropped her cup.

The brown tea sailed through the air, splashing her feet…and scattering rose petals.