All the Dirty Secrets, page 20
The car slowed as it turned left onto a rutted road. Her head hit the back seat, wedging her on her side. It must be a dirt road. How long have they been driving? My God, I don’t know. Where am I?
A scream escaped her lips.
“I told you we should’ve gagged her,” the woman said.
Whoever her accomplice was, he still hadn’t spoken. Well, she assumed it had to be a man. Could a woman lift her as easily as the person who had placed her in the car?
The car stopped and the back door opened, the night air sweeping over her body chilled her skin. Her legs were useless since the last jolt had pinned her on her side. Edy sniffed in the scents around her. Something sharp punctured her skin. The scent of decaying leaves faded along with her thoughts as they merged into darkness. Her battle to remain conscious was lost, and the floating sensation overtook her body and mind.
* * * *
When he got home, Jake found Mia fast asleep on the couch. Brigh lay beside her, and the television was tuned to a cooking show. Brigh lifted her head, stared at him for a second, then went back to sleep. He took the blanket off the back of the sofa and covered Mia.
“I’m awake,” Mia said. She rolled toward him, displacing Brigh.
“You always watch TV with your eyes closed?” He kissed her on the forehead.
“What time is it?”
“Around eight. Are you hungry?”
“Let’s stay in, you cook,” Mia said.
“I can do that.”
Brigh followed him into the kitchen. Jake filled her dish with food and freshened up her water. He pulled out a skillet, a wooden spoon, the garlic grater, and measuring cups. As he reached into the refrigerator his cell phone rang.
“Oh, for the love of God,” he muttered, reading the caller ID.
He listened to Dispatch, closed his eyes, and wished he’d given Edy Dunstan some protection. “Call Sergeant Romanelli and tell him I’ll pick him up in five.” Jake stuck his phone in his pocket. Mia ambled into the kitchen and sat at the table.
He took the seat beside her. “I’m sorry. I have to go back out. Edy Dunstan went missing on her way home from her father’s tonight.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. All the victims so far have the photographer in common and loads of money. I hope she’ll be all right, but I’m not sure. This feels off. Callie met with her blackmailers and brought the money with her. Edy was on her way home from her father’s, where I left her to spend the night. I don’t understand why she didn’t stay there,” Jake said, his thoughts already at the scene.
He kissed Mia goodbye and drove to Louie’s. On the way he called Shamus on his cell.
“Shamus, Edy Dunstan’s gone missing. I’m going to assume she’s been kidnapped and work it from that angle. Did Darcy receive any more letters?”
“No.”
“Good. Tell her to use extreme caution. It doesn’t feel like Callie’s murder, but I won’t be sure until I get to the scene.”
“I’ll warn her. Call me when you’re done at the scene,” McGuire said.
“It might be late,” Jake said.
“I don’t care, call.” Shamus hung up.
Louie was standing at the curb in front of his house when Jake drove up.
“Why was she out after we dropped her off at her father’s?” Louie asked, jumping into the car.
“I wasn’t given any information except that her car was left running and abandoned.”
“Of all the stupid things,” Louie said.
It took them less than five minutes to get to the scene. “Yep,” Jake said, cutting off the rest of the conversation as he eased closer to the blocked-off area.
He hung back and evaluated the scene before talking to anyone. The right side of Edy’s car had been crushed inward, skid marks ran along the lane for about five feet, the driver’s side window had been smashed, and the seat belt hanging out the door had been cut.
“Has anyone checked the hospitals in case a Good Samaritan took her to one?” Jake asked.
“I’ve checked them and all the ambulance services. No one fitting her description has been admitted, and no one requested a wagon either,” Officer Jones said.
He’d worked with Tara Jones before and appreciated her professionalism, and he respected her. Her investigations and crime scenes were kept pristine for the detectives. Jones’s cap sat on her head at a precise angle, her black hair neatly pinned up under it. In the overhead light her mahogany skin glowed.
“Good to see you, Jones. Give me your report,” Jake said.
Jones recited the facts, concluding with how she found Mrs. Dunstan’s purse and cell phone on the floor of the car.
“A woman doesn’t leave her purse in the car if she left of her own accord, sir,” Tara Jones said.
“What’s in the back seat and the trunk?”
“Jake, her luggage is back here,” Louie said from under the lid of the trunk. “And the usual items one keeps in the trunk. A spare tire, tools to change it. Otherwise it’s clean.”
“Okay, Jones, give me your take of the scene,” Jake said.
“Sir, there’s a dent in the back fender. It looks like a person hit her from behind as someone cut her off from the front.”
“Noted, please stand by.”
Jake walked the scene. This section of road had no street lights, no houses except off the side street that intersected with the road a few yards back. The skid marks, along with the car’s crushed right side, said Edy tried to avoid a car pulling out of the side street. A crime of opportunity? No, someone familiar with Edy knew she took this way back and forth from her home to her father’s and planned this. It points to her husband or a friend.
“Officer Jones, get me the phone number and address for Rosie Riverton, and if you can, get me the cell number for Cedric Dunstan,” Jake said. “For his number you can check with the officer who is on duty at her father’s place. His name is John Kennedy.”
“I’ll get right on it, sir.” Jones approached her cruiser, its lights still flashing.
Willie Phelps strolled up to him. “Next time, Jake, can you have your crimes happen on someone else’s shift?” Willie said, rolling his eyes. The CSI tech carried his bag to Edy’s car to start his investigation.
Jake watched Willie slide on his gloves, then pull out his flashlight. He’d need to get to Cedric Dunstan before he heard anything on the news. He signaled for Louie.
“What?”
“I’m going to Dunstan’s mistress’s place in Middlebury. You stay here and finish processing the scene. If you’re finished when I’m done, I’ll come by and pick you up, then we’ll interview her father together.”
“Are you going to notify Middlebury?” Louie asked.
“Yes, after I interview Cedric,” Jake said, tossing Louie a smirk over his shoulder.
“It was damn stupid of her to leave her father’s in the first place,” Louie said, stating the obvious again.
* * * *
Shamus hung up with Jake and paced his home office while rubbing his throbbing temples. Darcy had to be informed of the latest development, but things had been tense between them since she’d received the letter with the nude photos.
It’s now or never. He walked to the living room and pulled up short at the entrance. Darcy sat on the couch with papers spread out on her lap and the seat. Tears ran down her face while she stared at the wall. It undid him. A strong woman, Darcy never cried, but since Callie’s murder she’d cried a lifetime of tears.
“Darcy.” Going to her, he pushed the papers out of the way and sat beside her.
She brushed the back of her hand over her face. “I miss her.”
“It’s only natural, honey.” Shamus draped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him.
“Is Jake any closer to solving the case?” Darcy asked.
“Edy Dunstan was kidnapped a little while ago. Have you gotten any other letters?”
“Shamus, I’m not stupid. Had I gotten any I would’ve told you. Is she going to…”
Shamus understood the unfinished thought. Neither wanted to believe Edy might be the next victim. It’d be a mistake to give her his wait-and-see speech.
“Jake and Louie are on it. He wants you to use extreme caution whenever you’re alone. I’d prefer if you used a car service instead of driving anywhere. I can assign a uniform to you.”
“I’ll use the car service, Shamus. If you want to assign one of your men as the driver, he’ll have to be in plainclothes. A uniformed officer would open up a line of questioning at work I’d rather not have to address.”
He’d expected that reply, but it didn’t make him happy. “Have you called Todd this week?”
“No, we saw him yesterday at the funeral, and besides, I wasn’t up to it. Selfish isn’t it?” She blew her nose in a tissue she’d produced from her pocket.
“I’ll give him a call tomorrow,” Shamus said, kissing her forehead.
* * * *
Jake programmed Cedric’s new address into his GPS and drove away from the scene. He’d have to stow his anger before he got to Dunstan’s place, otherwise he might do something stupid.
Sex and money—most times murder came down to those two things. Sometimes the murderer proclaimed it was done out of love for the victim—if they couldn’t have them, no one would. In this case it’d be one or both. From the first caveman knocking the second over the head for his food or woman, man had taken what he wanted with force, not caring what the consequences might be. Greed, a formidable bitch, blinded many in their quest to acquire wealth.
Greed, murder and stupidity ensured he had a job.
Jake parked in the Middlebury Tower’s parking lot. It was a five-story apartment complex that sat on the Wilkesbury-Middlebury line along I-84. It charged its residents high rent for the privilege of dwelling there. Jake wondered how Cedric would meet the obligation after Edy cut him off. It made for a good motive for blackmail—if the blackmailer turned out to be Cedric.
He knocked on the door to unit 5C and waited. Cedric came to the door wearing a gray hooded sweat suit. It seemed out of place on Cedric and a far cry from his thousand-dollar business suits. Cedric’s wet brown hair had been slicked back, his cheeks flushed.
“Cedric Dunstan, I’m Lieutenant Jake Carrington from the Wilkesbury Police Department. May I come in?”
“I remember you from the gala. What do you want?”
“I’d like to come in and discuss it with you. Is your girlfriend home?”
“Why?”
“Mr. Dunstan, we can do this here or at the station. What’s your choice?”
Dunstan opened the door wider and stepped back. “Now tell me what all this is about.”
“Is Rosie Riverton home?” Jake asked, ignoring the demand.
Jake did a quick scan of the apartment. Minimal furnishings looked lost in the big room. Blinds covered the large picture window, and an area rug filled the space between one blue chair and the yellow-and-blue sofa. He noted the kitchen to his left as he passed by it to go into the half-furnished living room. From his vantage point, Jake didn’t spot another exit.
“She’s out with her girlfriends tonight. Why?”
“I’ll need their names.”
“Not until you tell me what this is all about.” Cedric stood in the middle of the room, his shoulders squared, his spine stiff.
“Someone kidnapped Edy tonight on her way home from her father’s house. I’m questioning everyone who had contact with her, or knowledge of her.”
“You think I did it? You’re crazy. I was home all night,” Cedric said.
“When’s the last time you saw or spoke with Mrs. Dunstan?”
“I spoke with her today at the movie theater. She was quite rude to me and Rosie.”
“Did you expect her and your mistress to become friends?” Jake sneered. It takes all kinds.
“No, I expected common decency on her part.”
“I need your exact movements this evening. If you were home, what did you watch on television? Who did you speak with? And leave nothing out.”
“I was home working on papers. Edy’s father has served me notice of termination. Tonight my lawyer emailed me the paperwork I need to review. I’ve been combing through it. After reviewing the papers, I made notes for my attorney. I’m going to sue that obnoxious bastard for wrongful termination. If he and his stuck-up daughter think they can destroy me and my reputation, they’re messing with the wrong guy.”
“You’re angry. Are you angry enough to blackmail Edy?” Jake watched for a reaction, got none.
“Why would I? I’m suing her too. She forged my name on a check and emptied out my account. I can prove it. She’s been sleeping with the VP at the bank where I kept my individual account. I’m going to own her after the divorce. No, I’d never physically hurt her. Someone like her, you have to hit in the pocketbook, and I’m going to do just that.”
“Where is Rosie Riverton tonight?” Jake asked again. “And what kind of car does she drive?”
“I told you she’s out with friends.”
“Out where?”
“I think they went to dinner at Tiramisu’s restaurant on East Main Street.”
“I’ll check it out with the owner. Why’s your hair wet?”
“I took a shower.”
“What kind of car do you drive, and Rosie?”
“I drive a black Lexus. Rosie drives a gray Hyundai.”
“Is her car light or dark gray?”
“Light, more silver than gray.”
“Thanks for your time, and oh, one more thing. I need the license plate numbers for each vehicle.”
“Why?” Cedric asked, clearly losing his patience.
Jake wanted to push him.
Cedric stared him down before giving up and grabbing a pad to write down both numbers.
“Thanks,” Jake said, sticking the paper into his pocket. He turned away from Cedric, then turned back. “A black car was sitting outside Edy’s house all afternoon. Was it you?”
“No. Why would I waste my time like that?”
“Beats me,” Jake said, his shoulders hitching up, then down. He moved toward the door. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions as we proceed with the investigation. So please stay available, Mr. Dunstan.”
“I had nothing to do with this. I’m calling my lawyer. The next time you want to speak to me, you call him,” Cedric said, his face flushing red.
“Here’s my card. Have Rosie call me when she gets home. I need to speak with her tonight. If she doesn’t call, I’ll be back here knocking on your door at an ungodly hour, understand?”
“Yes.”
Downstairs in the parking lot, Jake searched out Cedric’s car. He placed his hand on the hood. Warm, not hot, but the car had been used tonight, which made Cedric a liar. Back in his car, Jake jotted down his notes and impressions as well as the time. Car still warm at ten p.m. told him Cedric had jumped up the list to be his prime suspect.
* * * *
“Are you all set with the crime scene?” Jake asked Louie when he answered the phone.
“Yes.”
“I’m on my way to you. I’ll be there in ten.” Jake hung up, then tossed his cell onto the passenger’s seat.
Louie jumped in his car the minute Jake pulled up. “What did Dunstan have to say?”
“That he was home all night. The hood of his car was warm, and he had gotten out of the shower minutes before I arrived.”
“And his girlfriend?” Louie asked.
“She wasn’t home.” Jake glanced at Louie as he drove away from the crime scene.
“Ah, and your conclusion?” Louie said, curling his lip to the side.
“The same as yours.”
“How do you want to handle Rockford?”
“He’s not a suspect,” Jake said. “You might want to play the father angle if you see it’s needed.”
“Okay, maybe he’s had enough of his daughter’s antics,” Louie said.
“Louie, would you kill Marisa for making bad choices?”
“I wouldn’t kill her even if she killed a person. She’s my little girl.”
“Exactly. I don’t think Rockford would commit filicide,” Jake said.
Chapter 22
Jake noticed Jimmy Nelson’s car parked in front of Rockford’s house as he pulled into the driveway and climbed out. He wouldn’t want to be in Jimmy’s shoes tonight. Louie knocked.
Mildred, Rockford’s housekeeper, answered and showed them into the living room. Jimmy, his body coiled to spring, stood by the window, his back to the room. Rockford hung out behind the bar, rattling the ice in his glass. Tension thick as fog sucked all the air from the room. Jake waited for the sparks to ignite as he glanced from Rockford to Nelson.
“Mr. Rockford, we have some questions for you first. Jimmy, Louie will take you in the kitchen and question you. I also want to talk to your men who were stationed here and at Edy’s house tonight.”
Nelson’s eyes pleaded with him to understand, but Jake ignored him. “Mr. Rockford, please join me over here,” Jake said as he took a seat in the overstuffed gray chair by the window.
In the few hours since he’d last seen Rockford, the vigorous, commanding man was gone, replaced by a haggard old one. His gray mane was mussed, his eyes empty, and his shoulders sagged.
Ed Rockford sank onto the other chair with his glass in hand. “What are the chances she’s still alive?”
“I don’t know,” Jake said, deciding honesty was best.
“I’ll pay anything to get her back, Lieutenant. And I’ll even go on television to plead for her return.”
“It’s not wise to pay a blackmailer, and we’re not sure it’s the blackmailer who snatched her. How many people knew she was heading home?”
