Scraps of Evidence: Quilts of Love Series Page 13
“Let’s see what happens if you hold her, Tess,” Sally told her. “Logan, hold this slide for me.”
She gingerly reached for one of Brutus’s paws and touched the claws with a Q-tip, then smeared it on the glass slide Logan held out.
Tess continued to pet the cat and talk to it reassuringly. Brutus let them swab at three feet and then objected to the fourth.
“I think that’s enough,” Sally said, backing away as the cat started hissing. “He probably just used the front two paws to scratch anyway.”
Tess patted the cat’s head and praised it before setting it down. Using a pencil, she turned back to sift through the jewelry lying on top of the dresser.
Steve poked his head in. “Daughter’s here.”
“I’ll be right out. You can come in here next. Look for prints on the jewelry box, DNA on the bed, the works.”
Tess dropped the necklace into a plastic evidence baggie. When she walked out onto the porch, she asked Lindsey if she’d heard any more about her mother’s condition.
“She’s got a concussion, but the doctor thinks she’ll be okay. She’ll be in the hospital for a few days.”
“That’s good to hear.” She held up the baggie. “This your mom’s?”
Lindsey’s eyes lit up. “You found it! I thought it was gone forever! That’s the one Pop gave her.”
“It fits the description of the one she’s claimed someone stole.”
“Mom wouldn’t lie,” Lindsey said, frowning. “And she has her moments of confusion, early dementia. But I’ve looked everywhere for that necklace for her and never found it. Where was it?”
Tess exchanged a look with Logan. “In her jewelry box, right on top of costume jewelry dumped out on the dresser.”
“It wasn’t in her jewelry box before. I’ve looked so many times.” Lindsey pushed at her bangs. “I don’t understand. The burglar was in her room, so why didn’t he take it?”
“Could be there wasn’t time,” Logan said. “Could be Brutus got him before he had a chance to.”
“Your mom said she thought Brutus scratched the guy.”
“Good ole Brutus. I’m gonna see if there’s a can of tuna just for him.” She looked at Tess. “Do you have to take the necklace for evidence?”
Tess shook her head. “You keep it safe at your house for now.”
Lindsey sighed. “What a mystery. You get called here a dozen or more times and there’s no break-in and no necklace and then there’s a break in and the necklace appears? What do you make of that?”
Tess looked at Logan. “Yeah, what do you make of that?”
Tess clutched the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. When she glanced at Logan during a stop at a red light he saw her frown.
“Let’s stop and talk for a moment,” he suggested quietly.
“We’ll be late.”
“Tess.”
She sighed, checked her rear-view mirror, then signaled and pulled over on the side of the road.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
Tess rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a moment, and then she sat back. “It’s just so hard having to go talk to Sam’s mother. We should have caught her daughter’s killer by now. I am discouraged I can’t go to her with better news.”
He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. “You don’t handle frustration well.”
“Does anyone?”
“Sure. The people who don’t care enough never even get frustrated. It’s not wrong to care too much. But you can’t do this to yourself.”
He looked out the window. While he certainly didn’t want to go back to Chicago and damp, depressing fall days, it was taking some getting used to having an almost endless supply of sunny days. Even on the days it was going to rain, the TV meteorologist would label the day as “partly sunny.” Huh?
“We need to work as hard as we can and keep our eyes and ears open, but it’s all God’s timing.”
When she turned to stare at him, he shrugged, a little embarrassed. “What?”
“You don’t often talk like that. I mean, I know you’re a Christian but . . .” she trailed off.
“A quiet one,” he said finally. “Probably not always a very good one.” He took a deep breath. “Actually, I was thinking of asking if I could go with you to your church on Sunday. If you’re not afraid of being with someone who’ll make the place fall down.”
She smiled and started up the car again. “I’m sure that won’t happen. If it did, it would have the time I finally made it back after Sam died.”
They rode in silence, each lost in thought. When they pulled into the driveway, Logan didn’t get out immediately, preferring to let her move at her own pace.
The house was modest, a little bungalow like many on the street. The yard looked neat and well kept.
“She never moved, never changed Sam’s room. It’s exactly the way she left it—even to the clothes thrown on the bed that night when Sam dressed for the prom.”
Tess turned to him. “Kind of like a shrine, but not. You know, it’s like her mom knows she won’t be coming through the door any minute, but there’s that hope.”
He nodded. “The person who got killed isn’t the only victim. Lives stop and sometimes they don’t get restarted.” He stroked her cheek. “We’ll go in when you’re ready. Because whether it hurts or not, I know you’ll make yourself do it.”
She touched his hand, and her eyes were full of emotion. “I’m ready.”
“And Tess? You do have something new to tell her. There’s someone new on the case who’s going to look at every piece of evidence there is. Not saying I’m better than you or any of the other detectives. Just maybe it’ll help having someone give the case fresh look. Maybe I’ll see something new.”
“You’re right,” she said, nodding slowly. “It is something new. And I desperately hope you do find something we missed and we catch the killer before he wrecks more lives.” She paused. “I’m glad you came here, Logan. For more than one reason.”
She opened the door and was out of the car before he could ask her what another reason was.
He scrambled out and quickly followed her. “More than one reason?”
She shot him a quick grin. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Logan watched her take the stairs two at a time. She rang the doorbell, and her grin faded as a woman came to the door.
“Tess! Thanks for coming!” she said, hugging Tess and looking to Logan.
“Mrs. Marshall, this is Logan McMillan, my new partner.”
She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”
They sat in a living room that reminded Logan of his grandmothers. Nothing had changed since the eighties with its shades of pink and mauve. Photos of Sam dominated the room.
“You made my favorite cookies!” Tess exclaimed. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It was my pleasure. Logan, I hope you like butterscotch oatmeal cookies.” She held out the plate to him.
He reached for one and bit in. “Never had one. This is good.”
She poured coffee for them, and Logan sat back and let Tess control the pace of the time with Mrs. Marshall. His eyes swept the room. He saw evidence of a loving relationship between mother and daughter in the photos displayed around the room. He remembered what Tess had said about Sam’s mother not changing anything about Sam’s room.
He looked at Tess, and she caught his silent message.
“Mrs. Marshall, I asked you if you’d talk with us today for a reason.”
“Yes?”
“I wanted to introduce you to Logan. He’s helping us take a fresh new look at Sam’s murder. I’m hoping he’s going to find something we missed.”
The woman looked at Logan with such hope his heart ached. “Tess and the rest of the police department have worked so hard, I don’t know how they could have missed anything. But I’m hoping you find her killer, Logan. I’m praying for it.”
> Tess reached over and squeezed her hand. “We are, too.”
“Tess tells me you’ve kept everything as it was before Sam was killed. Would you mind if I looked at her bedroom?”
“Of course. It’s the second door on the left.”
He went into the room painted a pale shade of pink. A proud mother had framed and hung awards on the walls—Honor Society, citizenship, the local humane society student volunteer of the year. She’d been a busy girl and a popular one from the photos of friends displayed on the top of her dresser.
Logan bent and looked at each of them. There were many shots of Tess and Sam—happy ones of them from elementary school up to high school. He felt his heart aching for a second time as he studied Tess’s face. There was innocence, joy, a hopefulness, and he couldn’t help mourning the loss of them.
Focused on the emotion, his throat tightening, he started to turn away and then he found himself turning to stare at the photo of Sam taken at a prom. He recognized her dress from photos of her lying dead in it and realized it was her senior prom photo. This one was a professional photo, and in it she stood with Wendell.
“Logan?”
“Hmm?” He looked up, distracted.
“Everything okay?”
“Come look at this photo,” he said, holding it out to her.
She took it and studied it. “I’ve never seen this one.”
“Oh, the prom photographer sent that a couple of weeks after Sam was killed,” Mrs. Marshall said as she came into the room. “I put the photo away and only got it out to frame it months later.”
“Tess, look at what’s around her neck,” Logan said.
She looked and then stared at him, her eyes wide. “It’s Mrs. Ramsey’s necklace.”
16
Tess turned to Mrs. Marshall. “We have to go. Thank you for the cookies.”
“Let me pack some up for you—”
“Sorry, no time!” She grabbed her purse and jogged out the door.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Marshall!” Logan called over his shoulder.
“Nice to meet you, too! Come back sometime when you have more time!”
The minute they were in the car, Tess threw it into gear and sped out of the driveway. “Call it in—”
Logan already had his cell phone out and was calling the hospital to ask that security go to Mrs. Ramsey’s room until he got an officer there.
“We have to get the results from the cat’s claws,” he muttered when he finished his call to the station. “The killer was right in her room. Bet Brutus gets treated to a can of tuna after we tell Mrs. Ramsey he saved her life.”
“Doesn’t fit the profile,” Tess said, keeping her eye on the road. She slowed, then stopped behind other cars as the drawbridge went up on the Bridge of Lions. She pounded her fist on the steering wheel.
Logan’s cell rang. He answered it, listened, thanked the caller, and then hung up. “We’ve got Mrs. Ramsey covered. Gordon was there.”
“At the hospital?”
“Yeah. There, drawbridge is going down.” He turned to her. “Your aunt is in the ER. She had a fall. Again.”
Tess glanced at him. “Why do you say ‘again’?”
“I think Gordon’s abusing her.”
A car horn sounded. Tess waved her hand and continued across the bridge. “I suspected the same thing the last time she fell, but she insisted she tripped over the cat.”
“What do you think?”
Tess sighed. “I kept blaming the fact I don’t like Gordon for my suspicions.”
Logan drummed his fingers on his knee. “There’s usually a reason we don’t like someone.”
“It’s not anything I can really put my finger on,” she said slowly. “I just feel uncomfortable around him. I can usually tell he’s near before I see him. Part of that is because he likes to pop up and startle people. Drives Aunt Kathy crazy.”
She frowned. “I remember her starting to chide him for that at the hospital last time she was in. Then there’s this thing . . .”
“Yeah?”
“Well, have you ever watched The Andy Griffith Show? I know it was a little before our time, but it’s in reruns on some stations.”
“I’m familiar with it,” he said dryly. “It’s part of the culture.”
“Gordon reminds me of affable Andy everyone loves. We call them good ole boys here in the South. I’m not saying Andy or good ole boys are bad. But I just sense something . . . darker about Gordon. It’s just he seems so likable and good-natured on the surface, but then he’s not been so nice to my aunt for some time.”
When she stopped at a light, she turned to him. “He seems very ambitious, too, but not in a good way. I gather he’s really looking to the time when the chief steps down.” She pushed at her bangs. “Then there’s the way he talked about the homeless the day we questioned the man we brought in.”
“I remember.”
“I hope my aunt’s okay.”
“We’re almost there. You go check on her, and I’ll talk to Mrs. Ramsey. Come up to her room when you can.”
Tess pulled into a parking spot reserved for police and got out. “See you.”
Logan stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I’ll say a prayer for your aunt. Call me if you need me.”
He kissed her cheek and strode off, leaving her to stare at his retreating back.
“Wow,” she muttered and then walked into the emergency room.
She identified herself at the desk and was shown to the cubicle where her aunt lay pale and still on a gurney.
The nurse attending her held her finger to her lips. “We sedated her. She’s about to go upstairs for surgery. Broken jaw.”
She nodded and touched her aunt’s hand. “I want to stay with her until she goes upstairs.”
“That’s fine. I’ll tell the doctor you’re here.”
Tess sank into the chair next to the gurney and waited.
When the doctor came in a few minutes later, he was frowning. “I thought her husband was going to stay with her until she went to surgery.”
“Police emergency. He’ll be back when he’s relieved in a few minutes. I was told my aunt was here, but not how she got injured.”
He hesitated, glanced at his patient, and then met her gaze. “She said she fell.”
“And broke her jaw?”
“Yeah. It could happen.”
“But did it.” Tess didn’t phrase it as a question. “I’m not just her niece. I’m a cop. if it’s domestic abuse, I need to look into it.”
“I was just checking her records. She’s been in here several times in the past year. If it’s not domestic abuse, then she needs a good evaluation to find out why she’s so accident-prone.”
He pushed up wire-rimmed glasses that had slipped down his nose. “I’m sure you don’t need to be told that cops have a high rate of domestic abuse.”
A statement not a question.
The curtain closing off the cubicle snapped open, revealing Gordon “Hey, Tess, Logan said you were here. How’s Kathy?”
“About to go up to surgery,” the doctor told him. “You can wait upstairs in the surgical waiting room.” With a nod, he left them.
Tess stood. “I’ll be up in a minute. I want to check in with Logan first.”
“I hope now that Mrs. Ramsey has found her necklace, she’ll stop calling 911.”
“Gordon, someone tried to hurt her last night. We think it was the serial killer.”
“Nah, she’s just a crazy old bat.”
“She isn’t a crazy old bat. She just hasn’t been the same since—”
“Yeah, yeah, since your friend Samantha died.”
“I’ll see you in the waiting room after I talk to Logan.” She left and made her way upstairs to Mrs. Ramsey’s room.
“How’s your aunt?” Logan asked the moment Tess walked up to him outside Mrs. Ramsey’s room.
“She’s in surgery. Broken jaw.”
He raised his brows. “And?”
Tess took a deep breath. “I’m talking with her as soon as she’s out of surgery. Have you spoken to Mrs. Ramsey yet?”
“I waited for you.”
“Let’s do it.” She knocked at the door and heard Lindsey, Mrs. Ramsey’s daughter, call for them to enter.
“Why, Tess, Logan! What a nice surprise!”
Tess bent to kiss Mrs. Ramsey on the cheek. “We need to talk to you some more about what happened the other night.”
“Sure.” She patted a place on the bed. “Sit here and Logan, grab a chair over there. No one’s in the other bed.”
Logan caught the look of strain around Tess’s eyes and mouth. Silently he asked if she wanted him to take the lead, and she nodded.
“Mrs. Ramsey, we want to talk to you about your necklace.”
She sat up straighter in her bed. “I didn’t misplace that necklace. I don’t know why it was suddenly in the jewelry box that night.”
“We know, Mrs. Ramsey,” Logan said quietly.
“Well, I can’t think why someone would break in and put it back,” she said, looking confused.
“We can. It’s not going to be pleasant what we have to tell you, but I know you want the truth.”
She nodded.
“Mrs. Ramsey, the necklace disappeared the night of the prom,” Tess said, picking up where Logan had left off. “I think you forgot you gave it or loaned it to Sam that night, and after she was found you were so upset you forgot about it.”
Realization dawned in Mrs. Ramsey’s eyes. “Yes, I did. She was feeling a little down because she was in a borrowed dress and all.”
“Well, the killer took the necklace that night, Mrs. Ramsey. Sometimes these kinds of killers do that. They take an object from the victim. It’s like taking a trophy if that makes any sense.”
She nodded. “I’ve heard that. But why did he bring it back?”
Then a look of horror washed over her face. “Oh—oh, my, Logan, are you saying the man who broke into my house and left the necklace was the man who killed Sam?”
Logan glanced at Tess and then at Mrs. Ramsey. “Yes,” he said. “That’s what we’re saying.”