Deadly Days of Christmas, page 5
Ben Kincaid was a close second, only in that the man had so many strange ideas and the fact that he’d been out on Main Street around the time that Melinda’s body had been found.
And there was still a question as to where Melinda had been killed. According to the autopsy report she’d lost a lot of blood. So, where was that blood? It hadn’t been around the bench. Was it in somebody’s spare room or had it been washed down a bathtub drain? Unfortunately, he didn’t have any evidence to take to a judge to get a search warrant for anywhere.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven thirty on the second day of a murder investigation and already he felt discouraged.
He would be the first person to say he’d had an easy run since becoming sheriff seven years before. He’d been twenty-six years old when he’d become the head lawman in the small town.
In the past seven years there had been bar fights and petty thefts, neighborly disputes and speeders. He’d had one domestic dispute that had tragically ended in a murder, but other than that he’d never been tested in the way he knew this murder would test him.
And so far, he felt like he was failing.
At eight o’clock he rose and grabbed his coat for another day of walking the streets and talking to the people of his town. When he went back into the break room several of the deputies who had come off duty were there along with Callie.
They were all involved in a lively discussion about various serial killers of the past. He stood in the doorway and listened to them for several minutes. He was lucky his team was built with strong, intelligent people who all worked together for the same common goal...to live in a town where law and order ruled the day.
“All right, people. Thankfully we aren’t chasing a serial killer right now. You men who just got off work need to go home and get some sleep, and Callie, it’s time to hit the streets again,” he said.
Callie immediately got to her feet and went to the rack to grab her coat. The other men got up more slowly, wearing their weariness after their shifts visibly in their slowness of movements.
“I did some more research last night,” Callie said once they were in the patrol car.
“Was that before or after you packed up all those little Christmas trees to bring to work?” he asked with a sideways glance at her.
“It was after. Do you intend to subtly punish me all day for those trees?” she asked.
He released a short laugh. “No, I have far more important things on my mind.” In fact, he’d realized the decorations in the office didn’t bother him too much. At least when he got home at night there were no items of the approaching holiday there to distract him.
“Why do you hate Christmas so much?”
Her question took him by surprise, but there was no way he intended to answer it. At heart Mac was a very private person. He didn’t share personal things about his life with anyone. Besides, Callie was really a stranger to him.
“It’s a long story and we don’t have time to talk about Christmas or my personal feelings about it right now. I’m far more interested in what you researched last night.”
“I did a search for the phrase ‘bird in the mouth.’”
“Ha, I doubt that yielded anything,” he replied.
“Actually, to my utter surprise I got two hits. The first one was a poem that I didn’t really understand and the second one was a short story that was a bit bizarre. I read them both very carefully, but I don’t think they have anything to do with our murderer.”
“Can you write down the references and give them to me?”
“Absolutely.” She pulled a small notebook and pen from her purse and wrote for a minute, ripped off the page and then set it on the console between them. “Maybe you can get something out of them that I missed. I’m just not the literary type. I’m a simple girl who likes my poem to rhyme.”
He smiled wryly. “If you couldn’t make sense of the references then I doubt I’ll have any better luck. I’m just a small-town sheriff and I like my poetry to rhyme, too.”
He felt the warmth of her gaze on him. “So, what’s on our agenda for today?” she asked.
He released a deep sigh. “Same as yesterday. We talk to people we haven’t talked to yet to see if anyone saw anything on the night Melinda’s body was left on the bench. I can’t help but think there has to be somebody who might have seen a vehicle parked there around that time. We also need to try to find anyone who saw Melinda at any point after she got off work.”
“At least it isn’t quite as blustery today as it was yesterday,” she said. “The more people we speak to, the better our odds that we’ll find somebody who saw something.”
There was such an optimism in her voice and he found that optimism appealing. He was finding a lot of things about Callie Stevens appealing. He tightened his hands on his steering wheel, as if it might protect him from his own growing lust where she was concerned.
And he definitely had a growing case of lust that was building with every minute he spent with her. Each time he smelled her scent, or listened to the low, sexy sound of her voice, his desire for her grew.
Maybe he should have kept her on the desk. At least that way he’d only see her briefly a couple times a day. But what kind of a man would he be to stop her ambition just because she made him uncomfortable? She deserved to be in the seat next to him. She was intelligent and sharp and had already proved to him that she belonged playing an active role in the investigation.
He was just going to have to get over his attraction to her. However, right now that seemed as difficult as catching a killer.
* * *
IT HAD BEEN another long day of pounding the pavement and talking to people. Finally, at seven o’clock they knocked off to have dinner at the café.
“Well, today was a waste of time,” Mac said as they sat in a booth toward the back of the café. His eyes were the color of turbulent storm clouds.
“It might feel that way right now, but at least we know now who didn’t see anything the night of Melinda’s murder,” Callie replied. “In the process of elimination, we’re making progress.”
“Do you always see the bright side of things?” One of his dark brows rose up quizzically.
“It’s a flaw of mine,” she replied with a half smile. “My mother used to say I could find something positive at a funeral.”
To her sudden surprise, a burst of emotion rose up inside her at thoughts of her family. Tears misted her eyes and she quickly stared down at the wooden tabletop.
“Callie, I’ve never told you how very sorry I am about you losing your family, especially to a drunk driver.” He reached out and covered one of her hands with his. “It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right and I’m really sorry about your loss.” He pulled his hand away but not before she gained strength from the comforting warmth of his touch.
She drew in a deep breath to tamp down the unexpected emotions and then looked up at him. “Thanks, Mac. I won’t lie—it was the absolute worst time in my life. But after I got through the initial shock and grief, I realized it was important that I celebrate them instead of mourn them.”
The conversation halted as a waitress came to their table to take their order. Mac ordered the meatloaf platter and Callie a bacon cheeseburger and fries. They both opted for sodas.
“That’s why Christmas is so important to me,” Callie continued once the waitress left the table. “My mother loved the holiday. All my memories of Christmas are of warmth and happiness and love, and that’s what I intend to have in my home this year.”
“Then I hope that’s what you have,” he replied. “I’m wondering if we need to reinterview Roger at his home and see if he tells us the same story about his relationship with Melinda as he did before. Some of her friends that we’ve spoken to have indicated the relationship was more volatile than Roger let on.”
She wasn’t lost to the fact that he’d intentionally changed the subject. But they were in the middle of a murder investigation and she understood he probably wasn’t really interested in her personal life.
“I don’t even know where Roger lives,” she replied.
“He owns a house right here on Main Street. It’s a nice two-story like your place.”
“Too bad we can’t get a warrant to search it from top to bottom. So far he’s the best suspect we have.”
“I agree, but I can’t go to a judge and tell him we think he might be guilty because almost a month before, he dated the victim. We need something more concrete than that for a search warrant to be granted.” His frown returned to etch lines across his forehead, lines that did nothing to detract from his attractiveness.
At that moment the waitress returned with their meals and drinks. “Anything else I can do for you?” she asked.
“No, I think we’re good,” Mac said. The waitress left to attend to other diners.
“It’s obvious from all our questioning of people that nobody saw Melinda after she stopped working. All I can think of is when her shift ended and she walked outside, there must have been somebody in a car, somebody she would trust to get into their car,” she said.
“And the logical person would be Roger,” Mac said.
Callie shrugged and then grabbed a fry and dragged it through a pool of ketchup. “Maybe he pulled up and told her they needed to talk...that he was still interested in her and wanted a reconciliation.”
“Maybe,” Mac agreed. “But we’re a small town. There might be somebody else who she’d trust to get into their car. Hell, we don’t even know for sure that the killer is a male.”
“I just assumed it was a male by the strength shown in the stab wounds,” she replied.
“An enraged woman could have made those wounds,” Mac said. “We have to keep an open mind with this case.”
“But Shelly told us she didn’t have any problems with anyone...that she was well-liked among all the women who work here. If I was having an issue with somebody, my best friend would know about it and I believe that would be the case between Shelly and Melinda.”
“So, that brings us back to square one. However, I do believe Melinda got into somebody’s car outside here and that somebody took her to a place, held her for hours and then killed her.”
For the next few minutes, they ate in silence. Unanswered questions whirled around in Callie’s head. Who had picked up Melinda after she’d finished her shift here? Was Mac ever going to notice her as a woman? Where had Melinda been murdered? Was she being stupid to believe that Mac could ever fall in love with her?
They were halfway through their meal when Mac began talking again. “I keep trying to figure out how the killer managed to get hold of a bobtail quail. Birds aren’t exactly the easiest creatures to catch and those birds in particular have good camouflage.”
“Is there anyone in town who raises birds?” she asked.
Mac shook his head. “Not that I’ve ever heard about.”
“Maybe we should speak to Craig Olson at the pet store,” she suggested. “He might know any breeders in the area.”
“Dammit.” Mac slammed his hand down on the table.
His outburst caused her to jump in surprise. “What?”
He must have realized he’d startled her. He offered her a slightly sheepish smile. “I’m just mad because I didn’t think about talking to Craig until you just now brought it up.”
“Mac, give yourself a break. It isn’t like you’ve been in your office lounging around and playing video games since the murder occurred. You’ve been working your butt off.” And a fine butt it was, she mentally added.
“I have to say I’ve been surprised and impressed that you’re putting in the hours with me.”
“The minute I saw Melinda, I knew I’d work as long and as hard as I could to put away her killer. I hope you’ll consider me your right-hand man, or in this case, your right-hand woman.”
This time he offered her a real warm smile. “Thank you, Callie. I appreciate it. I appreciate your thoughts and opinions as this case continues.”
She nodded and began to eat once again. Oh, when he smiled at her like that, with his eyes a warm smoky gray and his features all relaxed, she wanted to jump into his arms and feel his closeness.
She wanted to see his sexy, smoky eyes light up with desire for her. She wanted to feel his big strong arms around her. More than anything she wanted him to love her.
Maybe this case and spending so much time with Mac was making her a little bit crazy. She definitely had a crush on him, but a crush was a long way from real true love.
Her thoughts about Mac might be getting away from her because, despite what she had told him about the joys of Christmas, this year she felt a loneliness she hadn’t really experienced before.
One day at a time, she reminded herself. One way or another her feelings toward Mac would work themselves out and one way or another she was determined to have a wonderful Christmas even if she was all alone again.
They had just finished eating and were in the process of leaving the café when Allen Wilson bumped into them as they stepped out the door.
“Sheriff...just the person I need to see.” Allen grabbed hold of Mac’s forearm. Allen’s eyes were wide and he was half-breathless. “I... I knew a parking spot would be hard to find in front of the café so I... I parked on th-the other side of the center park and w-walked over. But...there’s a dead body in the park.”
Chapter Five
Mac’s heart crashed to the ground at Allen’s words. What the hell? A body in the park? He pulled the man completely outside of the café. “Could you tell who it is?”
“I think it’s Candy Waltrip, but I’m not positive,” Allen replied, his eyes still big with obvious shock.
“Where exactly in the park is she?” Mac’s head reeled with dread.
“You know the bench next to that big oak tree? She’s there,” Allen said. “I’ve... I’ve never seen somebody dead like that before. At first, I thought she was just sitting there, but I got a little closer and her eyes were wide open...just staring and I realized she was...she was dead.” He released a deep gasp. “It’s bad, Sheriff... It’s really bad.”
“Allen...” Mac pulled him away from the café front door. “I’m going to ask you a big favor,” he said. “If you still intend to go inside and have dinner, could you not tell anyone about this? The last thing I need right now is a crowd to gather around the scene.”
“To be honest, I don’t feel much like eating right now. I think I’ll just head back home,” Allen replied.
“You’ll be at home if I need to talk to you later?” Mac asked.
“I’ll be there.”
“Thanks, Allen, and I’m sorry you had to be a part of this.” Mac clapped the man on the back. “And I appreciate you keeping this quiet for now.”
Minutes later Allen had left and, after grabbing high-power flashlights and protective gear from Mac’s trunk, he and Callie began to walk from the café to the park bench Allen had indicated.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he said tersely.
“Surely it’s not the same,” Callie replied. “Hopefully this is the result of some sort of accident or a medical emergency of some kind.”
It wasn’t the result of any accident or a medical emergency. Mac gazed toward the body in the distance and the first thing he saw was a small Santa hat on Candy’s blond hair. He couldn’t stop the groan that rose up from the very depths of him.
Before getting any closer, he and Callie stopped to put on booties and gloves and then they approached the body. It wasn’t quite the same. Instead of a dead bird in her mouth, Candy held a dead bird in each hand. And yet it was the same.
She wore the light blue T-shirt with the café logo on the front. It was what all the waitresses wore when working there. It was obvious she had been stabbed numerous times and was beyond any medical help.
Mac called all his deputies in. Bright lights were set up and the coroner was contacted. Onlookers began to gather and some of the deputies kept them away while others worked to process the scene. Mac conducted the action, ever aware of Callie at his side.
There was an odd sense of comfort in knowing she was just as shocked, just as appalled as he was and in the fact that he knew she and the rest of his team would do anything possible to help him solve these crimes.
He was aware of Callie watching everything. She directed questions to the deputies and the coroner and took copious notes that he knew she’d share with him later. She showed no weariness; rather her high energy was contagious. She was quickly proving herself to be a ride-or-die kind of partner.
When Candy’s body was finally taken away, and the birds had been tagged and bagged, Mac and Callie went over the bench with a fine-tooth comb, hoping to find something, anything, that might point to the killer.
Fortunately, his team had done a good job and there was nothing left to collect. Once again there was also no blood, indicating she’d been killed elsewhere. While his deputies continued to process the scene, Mac and Callie headed back to the café.
Once more, he found himself facing Jimmy in his small office. “I heard that somebody is dead in the park,” Jimmy said, his broad features radiating concern.
“That somebody is Candy Waltrip,” Mac replied.
“My God, what in the hell is going on?” Jimmy asked and shook his head. “Who in the hell is killing off my waitresses?”
The question caught Mac by surprise. He’d been so deep in his own head about the fact that there had been another murder with the victim having birds at the scene that he hadn’t had time to look at the bigger picture that had potentially emerged with this newest murder.
