Delusions With Murder: A Rilynne Evans Mystery (8 page)

Read Delusions With Murder: A Rilynne Evans Mystery Online

Authors: Jenn Vakey

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths

“Is that a stick in your hair?” Rilynne asked as she approached the table.  She reached down and fished a twig out of the back of Nicole’s tangled hair.

Nicole didn’t even open her eyes.  “Possibly.  I, err… went for a run earlier and fell down a hill.  Not one of my prouder moments.” 

“Well, I should get going.  It’s getting pretty late, and I know you have an early morning.”  He paused, looking from Rilynne to Nicole, then back before continuing.  “Nicole, can I grab those files from you on my way down?  I need to finish the report on them tonight.”

“Eh… yeah, sure,” she said in an annoyed tone.  She slowly hoisted herself out of the chair and walked to the door.

“Okay, well I will see y’all later,” Rilynne quickly said before Nicole rounded the corner.  “Thank you,” she whispered to Ben as she walked with him to the door.  He just winked at her and walked out after Nicole.

Rilynne closed the door and headed back to the living room.  She collected the papers with the house information, and headed to bed.

She grabbed the first page off the stack; it was for a twenty-eight year old man.  Without the background checks, she didn’t have any more information on him.  She concentrated on the picture of his driver’s license and closed her eyes.  After a moment, she saw him tangled in silky bed sheets with a very voluptuous woman.

“Whoa,” she said aloud as she opened her eyes.  Maybe this is not the best way, she thought to herself.  After a moment of pondering, she decided to focus on the house.  It took several minutes of concentrating before she got what she needed. 
The houses basement, which was fairly large, was nearly empty, with the exception of a washer and dryer near the stairs and an old couch pushed against the back wall.

This was going to take a while and it’s getting late, she thought to herself.  She just needed a few hours sleep, and she would start fresh in the morning.  With one last thought of Derek Hartley, she closed her eyes and quickly drifted into a deep sleep.  Perhaps it was the wine, or the fact she had only gotten six hours of sleep in the past three days, but Rilynne had her first dreamless night in months.

*     *     *

She poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down gathering the papers she had left on the floor the night before.  When she reached the photos of the apartment upstairs, she stopped and closed her eyes.  The last she had been able to see of Derek, he was injured and coming face-to-face with his attacker.  Rilynne had tried several times, but was unable to get another glimpse of him.  This morning was no different.

Half of the detectives were already in the office when Rilynne stepped through the door.  Judging by the crowd around the computer monitors in the corner, the ATM footage had come in.

“What do you got?” Wilcome called out as he passed Rilynne and headed for the screen.  As the group parted to let Wilcome in, Rilynne was able to see images of the front of her building.

“The ATM takes a picture every three seconds,” Butcher responded.  “We can see Hartley entering the building at two twenty-one alone, then leaving again at two thirty-six.  Unfortunately, a woman was using the ATM at that time, so we can just make him out between her left ear and the edge of the frame.  He’s looking back like he’s talking to someone, but we do not have an image of them.  We do, however, know which direction he headed when he left the building.”

The disappointment on Detective Wilcome’s face was shared amongst the rest of the detectives.  Wilcome actually looked like he wanted to hit something.  “Well, pull all of the faces off for the three days we don’t have surveillance.  The perpetrator had to go into the building in order to get Hartley out.  He’s on these tapes somewhere.”  He walked away without waiting for a response.

The atmosphere in the room did not improve as the day went on.  The background checks started coming in on the owners of the houses on their list.  By lunchtime, nearly half of them had been cleared.  Rilynne went out with Detective Ochoa to look into the ones they couldn’t.  Luckily, most of the owners were more than willing to allow them to have a quick look at their basement.  Some of them even seemed a little amused.  One very nice older woman even insisted on making them sandwiches before they left.

There were only three homes left on their list as they headed back to the office.

“This one-” Rilynne pinned the first report on the board, “-we did not get a response at.  Donovan and Ochoa are going back after five.  These two-” she hung the other two next to the first, “would not let us in.  We are running more extensive checks on the owners now.  Rodriguez and Davidson are keeping an eye on them just in case one of them happens to be our house and they try to move Hartley before we go back.”

“What about the houses that are not in the city limits?” Wilcome asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Those are going to be a little harder,” Rilynne said as she dropped down in the chair across from him.  “We have two that have basements listed on the property information, but homes that were built by the owners may not have it listed on the records.  Steele’s sister is a real estate agent, so he’s working with her to find past sale listings.  If a home has one, it should be on the reports.  That just leaves us with the houses that still have the original owners, or homes that have been passed down through family members.”

“Well, keep looking.  It’s a long shot, but we don’t really have any other leads right now.  Let me know if you come up with anything,” he said solemnly.  “How long until the background checks are in on the two homes that refuse voluntary inspection?”

“Matthews is working on them now.  My gut says they aren’t involved, though.  The first one has renters in their early twenties, and judging on the faint smell when they opened the door, I would say it’s more likely that marijuana plants rather than our missing victim occupy the basement.  The other was a very lonely looking man who seemed to be a bit of a conspiracy nut.  He asked if we were planning to bug his phones if he let us in.”  Rilynne almost laughed at the look Detective Wilcome shot her.  It was the first time she had seen him crack a smile since her arrival.

“Every city has their weirdos,” he said under his breath as he threw his head back and closed his eyes.  “Call and check in on the family interviews and see if they are getting anywhere.”

Although they were on their second day of in depth interviews with the family and friends of the victims, they had made little progress.  There was still nothing all the victims seemed to have in common.  “We are missing something,” Rilynne said and she dropped the phone back onto the receiver.  “Something has been nagging me for weeks, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” 

She dragged her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes.  It was right there; she knew the link between the victims was just within reach.  It wasn’t a location they frequented, as the fifth victim had only been in town two days.  The few places he did manage to visit before his abduction had no ties to any other victim.  What was she missing?

“Evans.”  She did not realize until she opened her eyes to find the sun no longer pouring in through the open window, that she had actually dozed off in her seat.  “Run down to lab and see if there are any other tests they can run on the fiber found on the first victim.  Then go home.  Be back at seven tomorrow to start going through the lists of houses in the woods.”

*     *     *

“Busy day?” Rilynne leaned against the doorframe, taking in the site ahead of her.  Ben was leaning over the table across the room with his eyes pressed against a large microscope.  Judging by his failure to turn around, or stop shaking his hips from side to side, he had not heard her.  Perhaps it was his general hesitant demeanor, but she would not have been able to picture him dancing to music in a lab by himself if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes.  It was an interesting sight, and she couldn’t help but allow her eyes to wonder.  She didn’t know how, in all the time they had spent together lately, she had not noticed that Ben had a very nice body.

It was a couple minutes before he spun around and saw Rilynne watching him.  He dropped the file that was in his hand, and his ears looked like they were on fire. 

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked as he stooped down to pick up the file.

“Long enough.  So, where did you learn this move?” she chortled as she imitated the spin he had just performed.  The embarrassment on Ben’s face only made her chuckle more.

“What can I help you with, detective?” he quickly changed the subject.

He reached back to place the file on the table behind him, but dropped it on the floor again.  Rilynne crossed the room to help him pick it up this time.

“Detective Wilcome wants to know if there are any other tests that can be run on the carpet fiber found on the first victim.”

He placed the file on the table and walked over to the computer.  “Let’s see,” he said, pulling up the reports on the fiber.  “It’s a gray automotive carpet fiber.  Unfortunately, we cannot limit it to a specific make or model.  What exactly were you looking for?”

“Honestly, anything at all that could be used to help us get to a suspect.  Or at least give us something to compare to when we do have a suspect.”  Rilynne was not hopeful they would be able to get anything from the fiber that would be helpful, but like Wilcome, she was desperate.

“There is one more test I could do.  I don’t know if it would stand up in court,” he seemed to be talking more to himself than to Rilynne, “but it might get you a little closer to finding the guy.”  He walked out of the room without another word to her.  Rilynne did not know whether to follow him, or stay where she was.  After a few moments she made a movement towards the door, but stopped again when Ben came rushing back in with an evidence envelope in hand.

“I can run a test to see what environmental factors affected the fiber.  Since it was just one fiber, we weren’t able to find any physical trace that was useful, but I may be able to get a chemical breakdown to see if it was exposed to anything that would have embedded itself on it, like an odor.”  Ben seemed excited, more so than Rilynne had ever seen him.

Rilynne had been in and out of crime labs during her career, but was still amazed by what they were able to do.  “So you are checking to see if the car smells?” 

Hearing her skepticism, Ben turned from the equipment to face her.  “Think about when you sit in another persons car; within seconds you can tell if they have eaten in there recently, if they are a smoker, or if they use air fresheners.  Those scents get embedded in the fabrics and carpets, which will keep them in the car for a while after the source is gone.  The longer the carpet was exposed to a scent, the stronger it would be.  Have you ever bought a used car where the previous owner smoked?  It takes a long time before the car will lose the smell.”  He grinned as Rilynne looked from him to the computer, obviously impressed.

“You’re amazing.  Let me know as soon as you find anything.”  She gave him a quick pat on the arm as she left the room.

 

Chapter Eight

T
he last hints of daylight were still peaking through the window when Rilynne crawled into bed.  It had been a long few days, and all she wanted was to curl up with her pillows and go to sleep.  The moment she let her eyes close she felt herself drifting, as if she were weightless, floating in the clouds.

The sun was suddenly shining brightly on her face.  It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust so she could see her surroundings. 

The trees seemed greener than normal; the leaves were almost fluorescent above her, and stood out against the black and white trunks.  She was laying on her back with her head resting on a rotten log.  Just above the trees she could see large black birds spinning in circles.  The sight of them seemed to add to a sense of dread that had overcome her, but she could not see why; it was a beautiful day, and she could not think of a more relaxing place to be.

Behind her she could hear the roar of water slamming against rocks.  She tried to turn to see where the
sound was coming from, but she could not muster the strength to pull herself up.  After a few moments of trying, she resigned to watching the scene above her.  It was not as relaxing as the water, however; in the few minutes since she had last looked, several more birds had joined the kettle.

Although the knot in her stomach was only increasing, the combination of the soothing sounds and pure exhaustion she was feeling made it almost impossible to keep her eyes open.  As her eyes drooped, she could see the outline of two figures coming over the hill in front of her.  She wanted to yell, but as her lids finally closed, everything around her drifted away.

The scene suddenly shifted to a more familiar one.

She was walking through a hallway, towards the door at the far end.  It was cracked just enough to let a sliver of light shine through.  The glass on the floor tore into her feet, but she could not stop. She looked down to see the gun drawn in her hand, which was shaking fiercely.  Her desire to reach the room was countered by her fear to see what was waiting for her behind the door.

She inched closer, and her heart plummeted as she saw the dark pool peeking under the base of the door.  She placed her free hand against the doorknob, and gently pushed.  As the door swung freely open, Rilynne dropped to her knees and let out a painful moan.
 

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