Deadly Sins Page 4

  CHAPTER 9

  WE WALKED BACK to the crime scene in silence. I was already regretting being snarky to Ben. I was used to asking the questions, not answering. I probably shouldn’t have been rude, but I just wasn’t in the mood to talk. We could chalk it up to the fact that I’m a “Yankee” in the south, but I needed to remind myself to stay friendly with the media and everyone else. It’s a great way to get information or at least the gossip about a case.

  We walked past the uniformed cops and through a second barricade. Luke and Cooper walked side by side. I trailed behind a few steps. I watched Luke as he walked, long strides and sure of himself. I admit I was still attracted to him. He always looked good, but there were moments, like now, where his attractiveness caught me by surprise. I couldn’t really explain it. It made my stomach flip a little.

  I met Luke when I was a reporter in Little Rock. We met on a homicide case in the southeast part of the city. Luke was the detective that eventually gave me a statement. I thought he was attractive from the moment I saw him. It was an odd emotion to have while covering a homicide. He was tall, broad-shouldered with dark smooth skin and close-shaved head and face. There was no denying our chemistry.

  Later, after that case, I noticed his beautiful smile and dimple in his left cheek. Whenever I saw him, he was well-dressed, preppy almost. He looked the same to me now. I felt that old physical attraction coming back. If I wasn’t reading too much into it, he still seemed to hate me. Not that I could blame him.

  As I was lost in thought, Luke abruptly turned to face me, folded his arms over his chest and said, “Ms. Sullivan.”

  “Nice to see you again, Detective,” I said, putting my hand out to shake his. He didn’t return the gesture. He just glared down at me, then turned and started walking again. I stood there awkwardly for a moment before I retracted my hand and put it in my pocket. Cooper shot me a look with his eyebrows raised.

  We started to walk towards the river. Luke turned on me again. I almost bumped into him this time. We stood almost toe to toe. He bore down on me and asked angrily, “Why are you here, Ms. Sullivan? Do you assume we are incompetent and can’t solve a case?”

  His anger made me take a physical step back. I wasn’t prepared for it to be so blatant and obvious to those around us. Cooper hung back, not saying anything, definitely not coming to my defense. I scrambled for an appropriate response.

  “No, of course not,” I stammered. “George Brewer called me. He told me his wife was missing and that he needed an investigator. I know Maime, too. I know what she’s like, and what she’s capable of, Detective.”

  “That means what?” Luke asked me with a sarcastic tone of voice.

  “Could I please just see her and get this over with?”

  Luke started to say something and stopped. He uncrossed his arms and pointed his finger at me and said, “Fine, but I want you both in my office early tomorrow morning by eight. Follow me.”

  Luke, Cooper and I walked over to the medical examiner’s van. We stood together at the back of the van, and Luke introduced us to the medical examiner and his team. Ed Purvis was short and stocky. He wore wire-framed glasses and reminded me of every medical examiner I’ve ever met. Someone you’d never really remember. He’d blend into the crowd. I’ve always been a little amazed by anyone that would choose that as their line of work, but then again, most people say the same thing about me.

  Purvis reached into the van and rolled the body out on the stretcher. The stretcher’s legs folded out on their own. I braced myself. No matter how many times I’ve done this, I’ve never really found a good way to prepare myself to come face-to-face with death.

  Cooper was by my side. I felt his hand on my back as Purvis unzipped the bag, uncovering her face and upper body. I looked down, held my breath, and stared at the dead woman’s face. It definitely wasn’t Maime. It wasn’t her nose, her chin or her hair. I’d never seen this woman before.

  I looked farther down over her body and sucked in an almost audible breath, shocked by what I saw. On her wrist she wore a bracelet I’d know anywhere. I also knew who gave it to her.

  “Well,” Luke said, looking at me waiting for a response.

  I nodded toward Purvis indicating he could zip up the body bag. He pushed the stretcher back inside the van. I waited until Purvis rejoined the group. I stood there with all of them looking at me, waiting for a response. I wasn’t sure if I was going to let them know about the bracelet or not. I wasn’t sure how much I should say.

  “Riley, you okay? You look a bit shaken,” Cooper said, watching me. He reached his hand out and squeezed my shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” I said evenly, and then paused to take a breath. “It’s not Maime. I’m positive about that. I’ve never seen this woman before.”

  “I didn’t think it was her,” Luke explained. “I’ve seen photos, and while the age is about the same, hair color close enough, I didn’t think it could be her.”

  We stood in silence, taking in what this meant. Maime was still missing and now two women had been found dead in the Arkansas River on the same day. This quiet upscale part of Little Rock was being turned upside down.

  “Have there been reports of other missing woman?” I asked.

  “No, not recently,” Luke said. He turned to Purvis. “When you pull her prints, let me know. We’ll run her in the database and see what pops. I want to be cautious with the media so we have a chance to notify her family before this is made too public.”

  He turned to me and added, “You think you can keep your mouth shut? What you saw tonight is not a matter for public consumption.”

  Before I could defend myself, Luke stalked off towards a group of other cops who turned to look at us as he approached them. Purvis nodded goodbye to us.

  Cooper and I walked back out of the barricade and through the throngs of bystanders and news crews. Luckily, they were more focused on Luke who walked behind us toward the barricade. I could only assume that meant he was going to make some kind of statement to the press. Thankfully, they let us pass without question.

  CHAPTER 10

  COOPER TOOK THE STAIRS to his loft two at a time. He was surprised he still had that much energy left after the day he had. All he wanted was to flop down on the couch, open a cold beer and check some scores on ESPN. It was moments like this that he was glad he lived alone and didn’t have a wife who was going to nag him to take out the trash or pick up his clothes as soon as he opened the door. He had yet to find a woman he could tolerate for more than a night or two.

  After leaving Murray Park, he dropped Riley off at the hotel. She seemed distracted and quiet. Too quiet to be typically Riley. Cooper tried several times to talk to her about what was bothering her, but she remained pretty closed off. Maybe it was seeing a dead body that was throwing off her evening. It sure threw off his. Cooper was still having trouble wrapping his head around it all. He saw crime all the time but not like this.

  After making sure Riley made it into the hotel lobby, Cooper drove down the road to the other crime scene and noticed the techs still hard at work. Then he went a few blocks over to his condo on Third Street. He loved living in downtown Little Rock – always something to do, but then again, temptation lurked around every corner. He could almost hear his father Leo asking him when he was going to settle down like him. Cooper laughed at the idea. Leo had been married four times. Cooper’s mom passed away when he was young, and there were a series of stepmothers that followed.

  After parking his truck in the lot and taking the stairs to the sixth floor, Cooper slid his key in the bolt lock and was just about to turn the key when the door across the hall from him opened. Cooper turned in time to see his neighbor Jenny Pike step into the hall.

  “Cooper, can I talk to you for a minute?” Jenny asked quietly. Cooper could just about taste that cold beer that waited for him. He didn’t want to talk, but she looked a little bit worried.

  Cooper hadn’t really spoken to her much in the three mon
ths since she moved across the hall from him, other than exchanging some pleasantries in the hallway when they saw each other, which was rare.

  Cooper knew she was around his age and was a nurse at UAMS, but that was about the extent of it. He didn’t like to get involved with women so close to home. She was still dressed in her scrubs, and her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. He guessed she hadn’t been home from work very long.

  Cooper opened his door and turned, leaning into the door jamb. “Sure, what’s up? Is everything okay?”

  “I’m not sure. You’re an investigator, right? I’m hoping you can help me.” Jenny was wringing her hands together. Cooper glanced at his watch. He wished she’d get to the point. It was almost eleven, and he wanted to catch the news before he switched to ESPN.

  “Yeah, I’m a PI. I’ll do my best,” Cooper said honestly.

  Jenny took a deep visible breath and said, “You know the case of the missing woman Maime LaRue Brewer?”

  Cooper stood a little straighter and crossed his arms, ready to listen. “I’m familiar with the case,” he said casually.

  “I might know something. I don’t know if it’s important or not so I thought you could tell me what you think,” Jenny explained.

  Cooper nodded and let her continue.

  “For the last six months, a friend of mine had been dating George. She shouldn’t have been, but she was,” Jenny said, sounding nervous to Cooper’s trained ear.

  “Are they still seeing each other?” Cooper had suspected George was a cheater, but this was the clincher.

  “I think it stopped a few weeks ago. I saw them together at the hospital pretty often. He would visit her, and she confided in me about the affair. Then a few weeks back, she came to work pretty upset. She was obviously crying and her work suffered. When I asked, all she would say was that it was over with George.”

  “Any idea what happened? Do you know if Maime found out?”

  “I don’t know about Maime. My friend didn’t say, and I didn’t press her for details. I figured when she was ready to talk about it, she would. I can tell you George wasn’t trying to hide the affair, at least at the hospital. He was affectionate and more than once her supervisor had to speak with her about her behavior in front of staff and other patients, if you know what I mean. Shouldn’t she tell the police?”

  “I think she probably should. You can have her ask for Det. Luke Morgan. He’s in charge of the investigation,” Cooper said. He wished he could have a crack at interviewing her before the cops, but that wouldn’t happen. That’s the problem with getting involved in an open law enforcement investigation. There was always a fine line you had to walk.

  “Thanks, Cooper, I’ll talk to her. I don’t know if she will, but I’ll try. I’m worried about her. If he did kill his wife, who knows what he’s capable of,” Jenny said. She looked at Cooper like she wanted confirmation that her friend would be safe. Cooper couldn’t give it.

  Instead, he reached over and laid his hand on hers, hoping to calm her. “It will be okay. Det. Morgan is a good guy. Any information your friend or you have will help the investigation. What’s your friend’s name?”

  Jenny hesitated. Cooper figured she was trying to decide if she wanted to share that much information with him.

  Finally, she said, “Let me talk to her first. I don’t want her angry with me. I’ll try to call her tonight or in the morning and talk with her. I’ll let you know.”

  Cooper gave Jenny his and Luke’s cell numbers, and again, reassured her that she was doing the right thing. Jenny said she was concerned her friend would be angry with her for meddling in her life, but she just didn’t feel right about the situation. Cooper assured her that he understood.

  They said goodnight, and Cooper let himself into his loft. He sat down on the couch and was asleep before he could even think about calling Riley or catching any ESPN updates.

  CHAPTER 11

  MY RINGING CELLPHONE broke the late-night silence. I didn’t even want to bother looking to see who it was, but I picked it up anyway and saw that it was George. I sent the call to voicemail. I assumed he was calling because he had seen the report about the woman’s body found in the river. I should have answered. He was technically a client. I just couldn’t be bothered. I had enough for one day.

  I wanted nothing more than to be home in my own bed, in my own house. And that’s exactly where I was. After leaving the park, I went back to the hotel, quickly pulled my things together, and checked out. George had made the reservation, and it served as the perfect spot for the initial meeting. Now I wanted the feel of home.

  I drove my rental car out of downtown Little Rock, up the winding Cantrell hill, and into the historic Heights neighborhood that George first introduced me to. It’s the very same neighborhood in which George and Maime currently lived. I navigated the streets like the back of my hand and finally pulled the Jeep into the driveway of my house on N. Tyler Street. There were only a handful of people who even knew I still owned a house in Little Rock.

  I loved this house. It suited me. I pulled my luggage out of the SUV, took out my keys, and opened the front door. The cold air and silence of a house standing empty rushed me. My best friend Emma and her husband Joe lived next door. They watched my place for me. I hoped Joe had some firewood ready for me so I could light a fire in the living room fireplace and bring this place back to life. I had called them before I left New York to let them know I was coming back.

  The house, for the most part, had been empty since I left Little Rock. Emma came over from time to time when she needed a break from Joe and their three-year-old daughter Sophie. The furniture I bought when I purchased the home was still here, but other than that, the house was unoccupied.

  The house meant too much to me to sell it when I left. I was in a holding pattern trying to decide what I was going to do with it. It was costing me money. I didn’t care.

  A few months after moving to Little Rock, I saw this house for sale and knew immediately I wanted it. It was a 1925 two-story, four-bedroom bungalow with a large wrap-around front porch, eat-in kitchen and high ceilings decorated with the details found during that era including built-in bookshelves, crown molding and hardwoods throughout.

  The house, much like me at the time, just needed some love and attention. Mending a broken heart, I threw myself into renovating. With each room, I restored the house including hardwoods refinished, walls freshly painted and the original crown moldings restored. I restored myself as well. I brought myself as much back to life as I did this house. It wasn’t just a project for me. It was the very reflection of who I was and what I was going through at the time. It was not just a house to me but my home. I was never so happy to be back.

  Standing inside the front door, it was a straight shot through the foyer to the kitchen. I could see the back door from where I stood. The living room was off to the right of the foyer and the dining room flowed from the living room with a door that led back into the kitchen. The back door led to a small enclosed porch and out onto the deck. The laundry room was off the kitchen as well. I wandered through the house turning on lights, running my hands over the furniture and walls, noting that at least the housekeeper I paid to clean the place twice a month seemed to be doing a decent job.

  I opened the fridge and realized it was stocked with food as were the cabinets. My housekeeper must have taken care of it when I called to tell her I’d be back. I knew she couldn’t have spoken to my mother because even my mother didn’t know about this house, but the food was all healthy and some even listed as organic. I’d definitely have to shop for myself. I rummaged around in the cabinets until I finally found a package of chocolate chip cookies and poured myself a glass of milk. Some investigators had their vices — sex, smoking, or alcohol. Mine was milk and cookies.

  I took the stairs to the left of the front door and headed up to the second floor. I flipped on the hall light as I went. A small hallway connected all four bedrooms. Two larger rooms in the
middle, either of which could be used as the master bedroom, and two smaller on the front and back end of the house. One I used as a small library and the other my office. The only drawback to the house was the somewhat small second story bathroom, which was the only one in the whole house. The house was perfect in so many other ways, it was easy to overlook.

  I stepped into the smallest of the rooms in the very front of the house and set my milk and cookies on an end table. I moved to my bookshelf and pulled down the old tin jewelry box I bought at an antique shop in town. I sat in an oversized chair that was positioned in front of several bookshelves filled with both fiction and nonfiction alike. I stared at the jewelry box in my lap, knowing what was inside, delaying the inevitable.

  Finally, after a couple minutes went by, I did what I had to and opened it. Inside, lying neatly against some tissue paper, glaring back at me, was the very same bracelet I had seen earlier on the dead woman’s wrist. The bracelet with its same silver Celtic design taunted me, telling me all I needed to know. George had given me this bracelet. If I had to bet money on it, I was pretty sure whoever the dead woman was, George had given her the same bracelet. It was rare, George said he had designed it specifically for me. There was a lie somewhere to be found.

  Clearly, I wasn’t the only one to receive such a beautiful gift. Once when the clasp had broken on mine, I had taken it to a local jeweler to be fixed. He was the one that had made it, a special design both he and George told me. I knew it was not something commonly bought.

  That meant that not only was George’s wife missing, now he was connected to a dead woman from the river. I laid my head back on the chair and stared at the ceiling. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. This definitely wasn’t the George I knew. I wasn’t dumb enough to think I had been his only affair, but I really didn’t think he was capable of murder.