A campfire bloomed in the darkness down the street, and drunken laughter rippled on the wind. Good. No one was likely to notice him creeping up the steps, and if they did, it would make his mission more dangerous and exciting, which suited him just fine.
It was one in the morning, and he’d smashed the lone light-bulb in the stairwell once it got dark. There hadn’t been anyone around then either, but he’d wanted to make sure no one caught a glimpse of his face. Any witness would most likely notice the deputy uniform he wore. One thing he’d noticed was that people paid attention to the badge and not the facial features.
He reached the woman’s front door and paused to listen. There was only silence on the other side of the battered door. With such a flimsy barrier, all he had to do was slide a credit card down the jamb to unlock the latch. He slipped inside and quickly closed the door behind him. A cat gave a startled meow, then shot down the hallway. He’d have to move fast to make sure the animal didn’t awaken her.
He pulled a ski mask over his face, then set his valise on the floor. With practiced care, he moved along the thin carpet to the first door on the right. Moonlight shone on the queen-size bed and illuminated her closed eyes and slightly open mouth. A light snore eased from her lips. He relaxed a bit as he stepped to the bed and clapped a gloved hand over her mouth.
Her eyes flew open, and she struggled to escape his grip. Her muffled cries couldn’t get past his gloved hand.
“Easy. I just want to talk to you a minute. But if you scream, I have this.” He held his sharp hunting knife up in the moonlight. Her eyes widened, and a tear slid from one eye. “Can I trust you enough to remove my hand?”
She gave a jerky nod, so he eased his hand away but kept the knife in sight. She licked dry lips. “What do you want?”
“Clarence gave the McDade woman a box to give to you. Where is it?” The device he’d put in the Glennons’ house had yielded up that last nugget before the explosion.
Her eyes flickered to the closet, then back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Stupid woman. Why did she have to play games? He jerked her out of the bed and onto her feet, then marched her toward the closet. “Get it for me now.”
“I don’t have a box from Shauna. You have the wrong information.”
“I had his house bugged. I know all about the box.” He waggled the knife in front of her face. “Wonder how you’d look with a four-inch scar on your cheek? I might just cut you in a few places to see.”
She shrank back. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“I want the box.” He shoved her toward the closet door. “Get it!”
She opened the door and reached to the floor. A Priority Mail box was set back in the corner on top of a jumble of shoes. When she turned with it in her hands, he snatched it from her. “See, now wasn’t that easy? Why did you have to make it so hard?”
She hugged herself in her flimsy nightgown. “Why are you doing this?”
He eyed the defiant tilt to her chin. “Come with me.” The amnesia drug he planned to administer was in his satchel in the living room. One little stick, and she’d forget everything.
She shook her head and backed away. “I’m not going anywhere with you. You got what you wanted. Just go.”
Reaching over, he laid the blade against her throat. “Do what I say.”
Her lips trembled, and she moved toward the door. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. Clarence just died. I’ve had all I can take today.”
He smirked at her. “You think I don’t know that?”
Her eyes went wide and horrified. “You killed Clarence? Why?”
“I had no choice.” Holding the blade to her throat again, he motioned her to move down the hall toward the front door.
She swallowed, then obeyed his silent command. They walked in lockstep toward the living room. The cat screeched and hurtled past their feet, and he jumped, nicking the woman’s throat a bit with his blade.
She put her hand to her neck, then pulled her fingers back and looked at the blood on them. “You cut me.” She jerked out of his grip, then ran for the kitchen. She grabbed a knife from the wooden block and turned to face him as he raced after her.
He stopped two feet from her and laughed. “You don’t know how to use that. Put it down.” He set the box on the counter and closed the gap.
She slashed at him with the butcher knife, and he felt the wind of it on his arm. “Quit it.”
He backhanded her, and her knife went flying and clattered on the kitchen floor. She reeled back, knocking over a glass of water on the counter. He moved toward her, but she threw a glass bowl at him, and as he ducked, she darted past him. Sprinting for the door, she stumbled over the cat and fell into the wall, smearing it with blood as she went down.
Rage darkened his vision as he pursued her. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.” His fingers closed around her arm, and he jerked her to her feet.
As he thrust the knife forward to threaten her, she jerked away again and lost her balance. Her shoulder hit the wall behind her and propelled her back toward him. When she crashed into him, the tip of the knife sliced into the base of her throat.
Great, just great. He’d have to finish this here, then get out before someone heard the ruckus. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.
When he was done, he wiped the bloody knife on her nightgown, then retrieved the box. It sure was light. He shook it but didn’t hear anything. Frowning, he opened the end and peered inside. Empty. Where had the evidence gone?
Shauna used her key to unlock Marilyn’s front door. She followed the sound of the TV and stepped into the living room. Sunshine slanted through the window and lit the red in Alex’s auburn hair. “Good morning.”
“Mommy!” Alex, watching cartoons, leaped up from the floor and pelted toward Shauna.
She caught him in a fierce embrace. After yesterday’s horrible events, his hugs were especially precious. “Hey, Bug. You have a good time with Grammy?”
Marilyn had let him build a fort. Two blankets lay draped over the white leather sofa and chair. Remnants of pizza had hardened on paper plates as well. Alex’s hair hadn’t yet been combed, and a milk stain marred his Mickey Mouse pajamas. She didn’t want to let go of his sturdy little body. When everything else was wrong with her world, being with her son made everything right. She forced herself to release him, then watched him go back to his cartoons.
Bright and perky, Marilyn stepped into the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. In her sixties, her hair was always colored to its original auburn shade and in a perfect chin-length bob. Shauna had never seen her in anything but designer slacks and blouses with perfectly appointed jewelry. She had one entire closet devoted to her shoes and accessories. In spite of being a slave to fashion, she’d been a bulwark for Shauna from the moment they met on that fifth date with Jack. Marilyn had taken one look at Shauna in her worn jeans and US Navy T-shirt and had decided she was perfect for her only child.
Shauna realized how fortunate that support was from the very first. She hugged Marilyn tightly. “Thanks for helping out. You’re the best.”
Marilyn released her. “Any more news?” She glanced at Alex. “Honey, you’d better go brush your teeth and get dressed. If Mommy is up for it, we’ll go to Harvey’s Pier for some seafood for lunch.”
“Yay!” He abandoned the TV and rushed for the stairs.
With small ears out of the way, Shauna told her all she’d seen. “I’m sure the sheriff will be by today.” She wanted to tell Marilyn about the necklace, but if it was an important clue to the investigation, she probably shouldn’t reveal it. Clarence hadn’t wanted anyone to know.
Her cell phone played, and Shauna pulled it from her purse, then winced seeing the sheriff’s name. Everett Burchell, about forty-five, had been sheriff for six years. His marriage six months ago to twenty-four-year-old model Felicia Tong had shocked the county.
Shauna answered the call. “Hi, Sheriff. I assume you want to talk to me again?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about that package yesterday? You may have compromised the investigation! Lucy called me last night and told me about it. She said you were going to try to hide it from me. Is that true?”
She closed her eyes and sighed, then opened them and paced the floor in front of Marilyn’s large living room windows. “Clarence asked me to keep it quiet. I wanted to honor his wishes. You’ll see it all today.”
The sheriff huffed. “I need you to go over every sentence Clarence said and every action he took when you were with him. Lucy says you identified the necklace as belonging to your mother.”
“I’m not sure. I was very young when she died. I could be wrong. You could talk to my father about it.”
“Can you come to my office right now?”
“Can it wait? I’m picking up my son. He spent the night with Marilyn. It would be better if he didn’t hear any of this.”
“No. You should have told me about the box last night. You’re not far from my house, and I’m still there. Just come over here.”
She sighed and rubbed her head, then glanced at her mother-in-law who nodded. “Okay, Marilyn can keep Alex a little longer. I’ll be right there.” She ended the call and went to tell her son that their outing was going to be delayed.