Читать книгу To Die For - Sharon Green - Страница 12

Mike Gerard got back to his office in a thoughtful mood. This newest victim just might have given him a lead the death was supposed to have prevented, and it was certainly worth checking into. But not if it had already been checked, which was the first thing he had to find out.

Detective Sergeant Rena Foreman sat at her desk, leaning back in her chair while she argued desultorily with her partner, Detective Larry Othar. The two were always arguing about something, a clear sign that as partners they were really close. Rena was tall and slender with auburn hair and blue eyes, and Larry was tall and broad-shouldered with brown hair and blue eyes. They were also good cops, but that hadn’t kept them from being replaced as team leaders of the serial-killings case when the fourth body was found.

The brass was being screamed at by the press and public alike, so they wanted action and an arrest as quickly as possible. When they hadn’t gotten the arrest by the time the third body was discovered, they’d put Mike in charge instead of calling in the FBI.

“Hey, you two,” Mike said, approaching Rena and Larry. “I need to ask you about your part of the serial-killings investigation. How much of a background check did you do on each of the victims?”

“The checks were routine but fairly thorough,” Rena answered. “We knew where the victims came from because of their ID’s, so we checked with the police in those places. Our counterparts confirmed that the victims were who we thought they were, but there was nothing in the way of records or files on the deceased parties.”

“And that first victim, Don Grail, is originally from around here,” Larry added. “He’d gotten into some trouble as a kid, but his old man managed to get the charges dropped. Something about getting into an argument with a girl, and starting to beat up on her. The argument was loud enough that somebody called the cops, and they got there before Grail did worse than slap her around a little. The girl and her family were the first ones we checked, but they’d all moved away years ago and never came back.”

“We traced them to Colorado, and the locals checked for us,” Rena continued. “Every one of them was accounted for, including the girl’s present husband. She was in the hospital having her third child, the rest of the family and the husband were there with her, and none of them had left the state for at least two years.”

“And this is more involved than a simple revenge killing,” Mike said with a nod, showing them he knew they’d realized that. “You did exactly what I would have done—and did do—with the fourth victim, but now there’s something to add to the rest. Victim number five was a private detective brought in by victim number one’s sister.”

Rena and Larry both exclaimed in surprise over that, and Mike gave them a quick rundown. After telling them what the dead man had said to Tanda Grail, he added, “So that means Saxon saw someone he knew, but not from the city and probably not from his work for the agency. If he’s the only one who could have spotted whoever he did spot, that tells us we have to look into Saxon’s past life. Private detectives are often retired cops. If Saxon happened to be one, where did he live and work? If it was another agency he’d been with, again, when and where?”

“What makes you think it was a person he saw?” Rena asked. “Maybe he spotted some thing, and was able to recognize it because he came from a small-town area like this one, and everyone else at the agency is city-raised.”

“That’s a possibility that should be checked, but I don’t think it’s what happened,” Mike answered with a distracted head shake. “Spotting some thing would not have gotten the man killed unless some body went along with the thing, which leads us back to an individual. And there’s one more job that has to be done—take the pictures and prints of all five victims, and have them sent along the network to the entire country. None of the victims have police records where they live, but how about elsewhere? And see if you can find out where they were all supposed to be before they turned up here and dead.”

“According to his sister, Grail was supposed to be nowhere but here,” Larry offered. “Grail came back here every year on August first, and stayed for the whole month.”

“Which he’d been doing for five years,” Mike agreed, remembering what Tanda had told him. “Take another look at who he associated with while he was here, where he went and what he did. Your first investigation said he kept to himself, but that doesn’t feel right. People go home to show off for the people they used to know, especially if they make it as big as Grail did. If they go home to hide, they stay longer than a single month. And why hide for just one month of the year? Did August mean something special to Grail? Did his friends know about it back where he came from? If August has nothing to do with the murder, I want to know so we can forget about it.”

“We’ll get back to you with whatever we find,” Larry said as he reached for the phone, Rena doing the same. “Damn, but it feels good to actually have something to work on with this case.”

Mike understood how the man felt, so he left Larry and Rena alone to go back to his small office, where he took care of paperwork while he waited for the preliminary report on Roger Saxon. He wasn’t expecting the report to tell him anything he didn’t know, not unless this was the time the killer had made his first mistake. If it was…

Well, no sense in daydreaming. Mike brought himself back to the present with a shake of his head, then buckled down to finishing that paperwork. It needed to be done before he could leave to interview Tanda Grail again, an interview he was definitely looking forward to. But not because she’d given him his first real lead, and might somehow give him another of the same. Despite knowing better than to get involved with a possible suspect, he realized it was the woman herself he wanted to see. There was just something about her…

IT WAS STILL DRIZZLING when Tanda reached home, but pulling the van into the carport meant she didn’t have to use her umbrella. Not that the umbrella would have helped. Tanda was already so damp that nothing but a change of clothes would help.

For once, walking into the house didn’t give Tanda the usual feeling of being safely home. The kitchen, usually so bright and cheerful in yellow and white with touches of red, looked as drab and gray as the weather. Tanda remembered when her father had redone the kitchen for her mother, adding the surprise of a brand-new gas range. He’d been trying to bring some happiness into the life of a woman who grieved endlessly for a missing son, but it hadn’t worked. The heartbroken woman had still grieved herself to death, and the gift had gone unappreciated by anyone but Tanda.

Now she stood and looked around, finally understanding why a new kitchen hadn’t distracted her mother. She, herself, would give that kitchen and all the rest of the house to find her brother’s murderer and bring that person to justice. She still didn’t know if Don had seriously changed or had been playing some kind of game, and now she’d never know the truth. The chance to find out had been stolen from her, along with the last member of her family; for that she would find the guilty person, even if she had to do it alone.

Tanda went through the kitchen into the hall, and from there to her bedroom. The large room had originally belonged to her parents, and after her father died it had taken Tanda six months to make up her mind to use it. It wasn’t as if she’d really believed her parents had gone off for just a little while and would return very shortly. It was more that the realization they were gone forever had to be actively accepted, and that had hurt. She hadn’t been able to ease the pain until Don took her to dinner a couple of weeks earlier, and now…

Rather than going through it all again, Tanda forced herself to drop the subject and change her clothes. Once into dry clothing she went into her old room where she’d set up an office, then sat down to do some work. People who do business with you may sympathize when tragedy strikes your life, but they still don’t enjoy having their business unduly delayed.

Tanda worked for a couple of hours, paying bills, adding to her monthly supply list, answering letters from people. There were those people who wanted to buy a trained bloodhound, and those people who already had dogs and simply wanted them trained. Of course, the second group never understood that their request wasn’t all that simple. Dogs, like people, don’t always do what they’re able to, and some are better at the doing than others. Teddy, for example, had taken to the training immediately, while one of her litter brothers had had to be sold as a pet. He’d had no interest in tracking, and hadn’t even been willing to notice a fresh scent, let alone one that was days or a week old—

Suddenly Tanda sat straight, silently cursing herself for being an idiot. Her brother’s body had been found in his rental car not half a mile away, but no one had known why he’d been there. He certainly hadn’t come to visit her, otherwise he would have driven all the way to the house. The police were assuming that Don had gone to the spot to meet someone, and either that particular someone or somebody following one or the other of them was the murderer. But what if he’d parked there to go somewhere on foot, and knowing where he’d gone would point to who had killed him? Not once had she thought to check the possibility, but it might not be too late. That pup that had to be sold would never have been able to follow a scent better than a week old, but his sire was a dog of another color.

Once she’d made up her mind, Tanda didn’t hesitate. Her first stop was her brother’s old room, where she’d put the clothes the police had given to her after going through them. Their laboratory hadn’t been able to find anything in the clothes, but hopefully they hadn’t ruined Don’s scent on his shirt.

Once Tanda had stuffed the shirt into a spare plastic bag and that into a shoulder bag, she went out to the runs which were to the right about fifteen feet from the house. Happily, it had stopped raining by then, so she didn’t need to choose between fooling with an umbrella or getting wet. Only three of the five dogs she had were currently in training, and two of those, Teddy and Masher, were from the same litter. The third, Angel, belonged to someone attached to a police department in Rhode Island, and he would be going back to his owner once his training was finished. Teddy and her brother Masher were already sold, and since their training was almost complete, they would be leaving first.

Which left Robby and Merry, her first breeding pair. Merry was sweet and a top-notch tracker, but Robby was something special. His long, homely face had bright, eager eyes, and he’d never failed to follow any trail that was definitely, even if faintly, there. He might be a plain, light brown mass of furry wrinkles and drool, but to Tanda he was downright beautiful.

“All right, you bunch, settle down,” she told the dogs, who had quickly come to the front of their runs at her appearance. “This time I need a professional, so it’s Robby’s turn. The rest of you can watch and learn.”

Once Tanda had put Robby on a lead, the dog obviously expected to be taken to the van, but Tanda had already decided against driving. If someone saw her out with one of her dogs only half a mile away from home, they couldn’t possibly consider it suspicious. If they saw her drive a dog there, though, they could only conclude she was there to snoop.

“Which is just what we will be there for, but we don’t have to advertise it,” she told Robby as she headed him away from the van. “Whoever killed Don and the detective I hired would be stupid not to keep an eye on me, and I don’t think he’s stupid. We’ll have to look around carefully before we start.”

Tanda took Robby along the tar road leading to Old Stage Road at a pace close to strolling, and once they reached the blacktop she casually headed them left. The side of the road was muddy from the rain, but it wasn’t so bad that they had to leave the shoulder and walk either on the blacktop or in the grass and bushes. That area had a small number of houses like Tanda’s, each of them isolated with woods all around, and from the blacktop they were hard, if not impossible, to see.

It was still overcast and very humid, especially under all those trees, but Tanda moved along as if enjoying a simple walk. While pretending to give the neighborhood a pleased and casual inspection, she tried very hard to see if anyone was watching her. If they were it would have to be from the woods, so she kept an eye on Robby. A watcher might be able to hide from her, but her dog would know immediately if someone was there. He might not do anything about it, but he would certainly know.

Half a mile isn’t far to walk for someone used to working with tracking dogs, and it also didn’t take very long. The place where Don had been found was a small, cleared area just off the road, half again as long as a large car, wide enough for two cars to park side by side. It was a place for someone with car trouble to stop, or someone who simply wanted to sit for a while and look at the woods. It was also a place where people could meet secretly, especially at night, when the normally light traffic turned to nothing coming by at all.

Tanda stopped a few feet away and stared at the spot, searching inwardly for the strength to go nearer. That was where her brother, Don, had been killed, the place where his body had been found by the police. She hadn’t come this way since the murder, and now she knew she’d been wise. It was almost possible to picture the murder, Don suspecting nothing until the knife appeared, then—what? Did he scream and try to get away? Did he beg for mercy? Try to fight?

“Stop it!” she whispered to herself, struggling against the need to shudder. “You can’t change what happened, but you might be able to help keep it from happening again. You came here to do something, so go ahead and do it.”

Robby stood watching her as he waited patiently, and he paid no attention to the surrounding woods. That should mean they weren’t under observation, so there would hardly be a better time. It was more than possible that Don hadn’t gotten out of his car to go somewhere on foot, but if he had and there was anything of a trail left…

After taking one final look around, Tanda reached into her shoulder bag. While taking out Don’s shirt, she walked Robby into the center of the clearing, then bent to give her dog the scent and the command, “Find him!” Robby seemed to have no trouble taking the scent, and then he began to cast around, searching for a matching scent on the ground. Oh, please let it be here, Tanda prayed silently as she watched. And if the scent is here, please let it be enough for Robby to find…

And then, with his usual baying bark, Robby announced that her prayers had been answered. After a full week of time, through the scents of dozens of people, and even after a rain, her dog had found enough of a scent to follow. Filled with incredible pride and an ocean of relief, Tanda let him take the lead to follow the trail.

Robby immediately led the way into the woods, back in the direction from which they’d come. Tanda looked around as they went, remembering that section of woods from the time of her childhood. She’d played and explored all through it, just as Don had before her. Could he have used the woods as a shortcut to wherever he’d been going? Could he have had an idea about what would happen, and managed to leave a clue of some sort hidden in the woods?

Question after question filled Tanda’s mind, but they didn’t keep her from continually looking around when she wasn’t watching Robby. She’d stuffed the shirt back in her purse once it had served its purpose, mostly to get it out of the way. If anyone saw her, they’d hardly need sight of the shirt to figure out that she was meddling. Oh, hurry, Robby, please hurry…

And Robby didn’t disappoint her. At one point he lost the trail, but casting around let him pick it up again beyond the point it had been lost. With full confidence he led her on, and when Tanda knew their destination for certain, she was stunned.

“But how can that be?” she whispered aloud, staring as they approached her own house. “He didn’t come to see me that night, I know he didn’t. What’s going on?”

Robby, the only one within hearing, didn’t answer, but he also didn’t stop. He led her directly to the house and around to the back on the right, avoiding the runs to the left. Once in the back he hesitated momentarily by a tree, then went directly for the closed wooden doors leading to the cellar. The doors were still closed, which stopped Robby and made him bay with frustration. Obviously the trail led through the doors, which were usually kept locked. When Tanda leaned closer, she saw that the lock had been ruined with metal cutters.

“And I never even noticed,” she muttered, disgusted with herself for having missed something so obvious. She might have had other things on her mind during the past week, but still… “All right, Robby, calm down. I’ll open the doors for you.”

Once she did, the dog went unhesitatingly down the stairs. Now Tanda was busy wondering what Don could have wanted in the cellar, the possibility of his having taken something a strong one. It would have to have been something Tanda would never have parted with if she’d been asked, so what could it be? She didn’t keep anything valuable in the cellar, not even things of sentimental value. So what—

Her churning mind quieted a second time, but now with a guess bordering on certainty. Robby had led her to the shelves her mother had used for preserves, still filled with the empty jars that had been there for years. The dog was casting around to find where the trail would pick up again, but Tanda knew they’d reached the end of it. After stopping here Don had retraced his steps, unknowingly reinforcing the track his sister would follow after his death.

Dropping the leash and her purse, Tanda walked slowly up to the shelves. It would be on the shelf at eye level, she knew, the place her mother had decided was safest for hidden money. Easily reached but not easily seen, at least for adults. Two children, one after the other, had had no trouble spotting the hiding place. The shelves were so well built and solid, they’d been perfect for rainy-day climbing on…

It was dark in the cellar even with the doors open, but pulling the cord of the hanging light took care of the problem. The next step was gently pushing aside the jars in front, dust-covered jars with lids protecting their insides. Behind was the one jar standing alone, this one without a lid. At first glance it looked empty, which brought stabbing disappointment to Tanda. But then she lifted the jar—

And heard the clank of metal on glass! Inside the jar was a key, and when Tanda spilled the key out onto her palm she knew it was one she’d never seen before. Don must have left it, in the spot he’d once stolen money from, but what did it mean? What was it a key to, and why hadn’t he told her he was going to leave it? And, even more importantly, did his murderer know she had it?

The chill that came with that thought was immediate, and then Tanda jumped at the sudden pounding on her front door. Had the murderer seen her tracking something, and decided she was a loose end that needed eliminating? But it couldn’t happen now, not when she’d just found an important clue! Robby growled while Tanda trembled and tried to decide what to do. She would first see who it was, and then—and then—

Would she still be alive to have to worry about it…?