Читать книгу Scent of Murder - Virginia Smith - Страница 8

Chase leaned against a tree, his face angled away from the activity around the car. The sick knot that had formed in his stomach since the moment he saw the vehicle halfway in the stream refused to let up. Instead, it tightened every time he glanced that way.

The police had closed down this section of the park by stringing yellow tape across the road up above, fifty feet beyond the bridge. He kept his face turned away from that area, too. He’d caught a glimpse of television cameras there, and the last thing he wanted was to be identified on the news as the person who discovered the body of a dead guy. Only a matter of time before some reporter recognized the similarities to last year’s crime, and a little digging would reveal Chase’s involvement with that one, remote though it had been.

The police had certainly already made the connection. He’d given his statement, told them everything he could, but had been informed that he could not leave yet. They were holding him here until he could be questioned by—

The sound of footsteps crunching dead leaves behind him interrupted his thoughts. Chase half turned and caught sight of the approaching plainclothes policeman. His spine stiffened. As he expected, the man who approached was familiar. And unwelcome.

Detective Jenkins.

Jenkins’s gaze locked on Chase as though daring him to turn away. Chase stood his ground and returned the hard stare without flinching.

“Hollister.” The detective’s head dipped in a nod, but his eyes did not release Chase’s. “Been a while.”

“Yes, it has.” Chase was proud that his voice betrayed none of the turmoil he felt. He’d been interrogated last year by Jenkins. Not an experience he cared to repeat, but given the circumstances, he couldn’t see any way to avoid talking with the guy. Chase squared his shoulders. “I guess you want to hear how I found the body.”

Jenkins didn’t answer immediately. In his left hand he clutched a rolled-up sheet of paper, which he tapped on his thigh. His right hand rose to tug a lock of hair behind his ear. Sunlight reflected off a few strands of silver mixed in with the brown that Chase didn’t remember from last year.

Finally, Jenkins gave a slow nod. “Eventually. First, I want to know why you happened to be in the park, at this particular spot—” he gestured vaguely toward the car beneath the bridge “—so early in the morning.”

Chase scuffed the toe of his running shoe in the grass. “I run a few miles every morning before work.”

Jenkins cocked his head. “Don’t you live pretty far from here? Out past that factory your family owns?”

“I drove. No doubt your deputies have already found my car in the parking lot a few miles back.”

The detective’s eyes narrowed. “This is a mighty strange place for a morning run. I’d think you, of all people, would stay as far away from here as possible.”

Chase didn’t reply. What could he say? Jenkins was right. Returning to the place where his best friend had been killed wasn’t just strange. It was downright weird.

After an uncomfortable silence, Jenkins unrolled the paper and scanned it. “I have your statement here. Says you left your house at five this morning, drove to the park, walked from there to here, where you spotted the victim’s vehicle. You tried to open the door, but it was locked. So you backtracked to your car to get your cell phone and called 911.” He raised his eyes from the paper without moving his head. “That right?”

“Yes, except I didn’t backtrack across the trail. I went up on the road and ran to the parking lot because it was faster.”

“Did you get a look at the body?”

Chase closed his eyes. If only he hadn’t. He nodded.

“Recognize him?”

“I—” Chase swallowed. “I don’t think so. I couldn’t see him very well. I mainly saw a lot of blood.”

The image had been burned in his mind’s eye. Kevin’s family had chosen cremation, so Chase’s last memory of his friend was of him waving good-bye as he left the factory after a long day’s work. Only now, Chase’s active imagination put Kevin’s face on that body in the car, the one with the gaping wound in the throat. He doubted he’d ever be able to forget it.

“There’s a lot of blood when a body bleeds out.”

The detective was studying him with an intensity that Chase remembered from last year. He didn’t like it then, either.

“Listen, I’m late for work. Is there anything else you need me for here?”

Jenkins paused. Then he rolled the paper once again into a tube and tapped it against his palm. “Not at the moment. But I’m sure I’m going to have more questions.” His stare grew hard. “You’re not planning to leave town anytime soon, are you?”

Chase’s mouth went dry for the second time that morning. Was he a suspect?

He probably was. Even he had to admit it looked odd for the best friend of one murder victim to find the body of a second victim in the exact same place, murdered in the exact same way. He was lucky Jenkins wasn’t hauling him in and charging him with murder.

Wordlessly, Chase shook his head.

“All right, then you can go.” The detective started to turn away, then stopped. “I’ll be in touch.”

The words sounded like a threat.

Ed dug at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger as he stumbled toward the coffeepot. His wife sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he snapped. “I’m going to be late again.”

She didn’t raise her eyes from her perusal of the paper. “I tried. Three times. Getting you up in the morning after you’ve been out drinking is more like a resurrection than an awakening.” She turned a page. “Besides, it’s not like anybody there’s watching a clock.”

Ed bit back a sharp response as he snatched a cup off the mug tree on the counter and sloshed coffee into it. Better to hold his tongue than to argue with Janie this morning. She’d probably heard him come home last night, though he’d tried to be quiet. But when he’d tripped over the doorjamb and knocked into the hall table, the crash had been loud enough to wake her up. At least she didn’t flip on the light and yell at him when he got into bed, like she did last time. He hadn’t meant to get rough with her, but she ought to know better than to nag him when he’d had a snootful.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. It emphasized the pounding ache in his head. He spoke just to break the silence. “Kids left for school?”

Most mornings, Janie chattered like a monkey. She must be mad at him. He could just see the top of her silver-streaked dark head nod behind the open newspaper.

Ed snatched the remote control off the table and pointed in the direction of the small television they kept on the kitchen counter. The pair who anchored the local morning news show appeared. Bright red letters scrolling across the bottom proclaimed, Breaking News! Ed punched up the volume.

“…to report the discovery of a body inside a car at the bottom of a steep embankment near the park’s north entrance. Medics arrived shortly after and declared the man dead. The police have not yet issued a statement, so the victim has not been identified. Stay tuned to Channel 13 for the latest updates on this disturbing situation.”

Coffee sloshed onto the counter as Ed slammed his mug down. He punched the off button as a curse escaped his lips. The remote control missed the table and hit the floor. The back popped off and batteries rolled across the kitchen.

“Hey, you broke it.” Janie gave him a narrow-eyed look over the top of the paper. “What’s the matter with you?”

Ed ignored her. He slammed out the back door toward his car.

That idiot! He should have known better than to leave the job in the hands of a two-bit moron. Ed could have handled the guy himself, roughed him up a little. He would have listened to reason. No need for someone else to die.

You just couldn’t trust anyone in this business.

By the time Chase arrived at the family candle factory for work, the news had broken—another murder victim discovered at Brown County State Park. He’d called his parents on the way home to grab a shower, not only to let them know what was going on, but to explain why he would be late for work. Mom had been understandably upset, but promised not to mention anything to their employees. Dad, who had taken over the cooking duties when he’d retired a year ago, responded with his usual brand of comfort. “Sorry, son. Drop by tonight and I’ll toss something on the grill.”

Now that Chase was finally at work, he was determined to keep a low profile and get some paperwork done. But it seemed everyone wanted to talk about the day’s hottest news. He considered closing the office door so he wasn’t such an easy target, but he knew the open-door policy was interpreted literally by the employees at Good Things in Wax. Closed doors made people nervous.

The scent of the previous afternoon’s pour lingered heavily in the air. Naturally it had to be Cinnamon Red Hots. The strong smell always made his eyes burn. He didn’t need to walk around with red eyes—especially not today.

“Did you hear the news, Chase?” Irene Bledsoe stood in the doorway and clutched the straps on her insulated lunch bag with both hands. Apparently the police had not identified him to the reporters, thank goodness.

“I heard.” Seated behind one of the two desks in the crowded office, Chase offered the woman a polite smile. She’d been one of the first employees Grandpa Samson had hired back in the seventies when he expanded the family business.

“I wonder if it’s related to…” She licked her pale lips nervously. “Uh, you know.”

Oh, yeah. He knew. But he didn’t want to talk about it, certainly not with one of his employees, no matter how long she’d been employed by his family.

Irene lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Maybe the police will get some leads from this case that will help them with the first one. I never believed that story the paper printed. Kevin Duncan was a good boy, no matter what they said.”

Chase managed a nod. Irene was right. Nobody knew that better than him. Without a word, Chase went back to his paperwork. After staring a moment, the woman headed for the back.

He hadn’t written three numbers on his inventory report before Alex Young stepped into the spot Irene had vacated. “You hear about the body they found over at the park this morning?”

Chase nodded but didn’t look up.

“The radio said the guy’s throat was cut.”

Chase copied another item number onto his ledger. “I heard that.”

“Kinda spooky, don’t you think? That’s the second one. Somebody down at the Dairy Dip said they found this guy around the same place, too.”

Chase raised his head slowly and met Alex’s gaze. He kept his expression carefully blank.

Alex took a backward step. “I’ll just get on in there and see about the next pour.”

“Good idea.”

Chase returned to his report. Not two minutes later, his cousin, Korey, breezed into the office and threw himself in the chair behind the second desk.

“Seen the television lately? They found another body in the park this morning. Sca-ry. I hope this doesn’t end up hurting business.”

Teeth clenched to hold back a resigned sigh, Chase tossed his pencil on the ledger. He might be able to avoid discussing the day’s hottest news with the factory employees, but his cousin was a different matter. Subtle hints were lost on Korey.

“What do you mean? How can this hurt business?”

“You know. Tourists.” Korey used his forefingers as drumsticks on the edge of the desk. “If tourists find out two people have had their throats slit in these parts, they’re probably not going to want to come to the area. They won’t be shopping, which means the candle shops won’t be placing any new orders, which means we won’t be making any sales.” He ended his drum solo with a flourish and grinned. “I thought you, being a college boy and all, would have figured that out all by yourself.”

He had to admire Korey’s logic, even if it was flawed. More proof of a fact he’d long known—his hyperactive cousin may not have the patience and temperament for school, but he sure had a knack for business. His instincts were some of the best Chase had ever seen, and sometimes that counted for more than education.

“I don’t think we have anything to worry about. If word gets out, people might avoid the state park, but they’re not going to stop coming to Little Nashville. Besides, Internet sales are climbing. If you’d take a look at that P&L statement I gave you last week—”

“Ah, you know I don’t have time for that. You’re the one who’s good at number crunching. I’d rather spend my time getting my hands dirty.” Korey jumped out of the chair and headed for the door. Nothing held the guy in place for very long.

“You don’t fool me, bucko.” Chase smiled. “That awesome Web site you designed is what’s driving our business through the roof. That, and your contract with the Candle Corner, has our profit margin up twenty percent over last year.”

He stopped in the doorway and smirked. “Just trying to make sure I earn my keep so the new owner doesn’t throw me out on the street.”

Chase laughed. Korey liked to tease him about being the new owner, even though Chase was a couple of years away from buying out his cousin’s share of the family business. “I think you’re safe, buddy.” Then he sobered. Better give Korey the whole scoop before it broke on the news. “Guess I should tell you before you hear it somewhere else that I’m the one who found that body this morning.”

Korey’s eyes went round. “No kidding?”

Chase nodded.

“Ah, man. I wondered where you were this morning.” He paused. “Uh…what were you doing in the park?”

Chase lifted a shoulder. “Just walking. You know?”

Korey’s gaze dropped to the floor in front of his feet. “Yeah. I know. If I can help, just ask.”

It took a few seconds before Chase’s throat loosened enough so that it was safe to answer. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

When Korey disappeared in the direction of the pouring room, the face of a stubborn police detective came into focus in Chase’s mind. Was Irene right? Would Detective Jenkins uncover something that would help reveal what had really happened to Kevin?

He bounced a pencil eraser on the desk. Jenkins had refused to listen to reason last year, and nothing Chase saw this morning indicated he had changed. There had been times Chase wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him.

Maybe Chase could force him to listen to reason this time. Maybe if he offered to help the police, he could somehow help clear up the dirty rumors still circulating about Kevin’s death.

Chase stood abruptly. The desk chair rolled into the wall behind him with a loud smack. What was he thinking? No way he was getting involved with another murder investigation. One was enough.

He tossed the pencil onto the desk and headed for the door. Numbers weren’t going to hold his attention today. He’d go see if Alex could use some help with that pour.