Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 01 - Murder Off the Books (19 page)

“You think that JJ’s hot?” Mac inquired, surprised that Sean had noticed and astonished that he wasn’t too timid to mention it in front of his sisters.

“Well, not exactly hot, but….” Sean stumbled as the herd’s eyes focused on him.

Mac relaxed, only feeling a little guilty for sacrificing the boy.

***

“So where are they?” Carrie asked as she helped Rachel stuff plastic garbage bags with the soiled Xerox paper that the cat had appropriated for a litter box the night before.

“Probably curled up in a casket with someone,” Ray joked as he and Sam shifted the boxes of paper to one corner of the storeroom. “The next funeral should be fun.”

“I moved the bowl of cat food into my office. Maybe the mother cat will come to us.”

“What now?” Sam asked, dusting off his hands on his jeans. “Haven’t you kept us here long enough?”

“Sam, I love you, but I don’t like you very much right now,” Rachel warned. “Your uncle wants you out of this as much as I do.”

“Let him tell me that himself.”

Rachel ignored him. “Carrie and I will take out the trash and meet you by the backdoor.”

***

“I’m stuffed,” Jeff said leaning back in his chair with a groan. “You outdid yourself, Mrs. O’Herlihy. You shouldn’t have forced that second piece of cake on me.”

 Kathleen’s eyes flashed. “Forced is it? Perhaps we should all try that diet that’s so popular. The one with no sugar and no bread.”

Mac watched as the family members surreptitiously pulled their cake-filled plates a little closer. All eyes turned towards the head of the clan.

Jeff coughed and gave Mac a sideways glance.

“Getting back to Mrs. Brenner, she seemed really concerned about Whiskey the other night at the vet’s. How’s she doing, Mac?”

Mac frowned and silently vowed to replay his friend’s kindness at the first opportunity. He took another bite of cake.

Kathleen took the bait. “Yes, Mac. How are you and Mrs. Brenner getting along? It was very kind of her to drive you to the vet’s. But your next date should be someplace without dog hair and the smell of cat urine.”

***

“The lid is down.” Carrie announced, halting her toss of the garbage bag in mid-swing. “Why’s the lid down? The lid’s not supposed to be down.”

“You’re right.” Rachel thought the girl had a special talent for stating the obvious. “The police probably did that last night. I think we can lift up the lid, if not we’ll have to go get Ray or Sam.”

“I vote we get Ray,” Carrie mumbled, setting the bag down. “I don’t know how you’ve lived with Sam all these years. Have you noticed that he’s really a moody person?”

Rachel gripped a corner of the metal lid, the action opening up the cut on her hand, blood seeping through the band-aid she’d hastily applied and dripping onto the metal. “Damn, damn, and damn,” she repeated.

“Sorry, I thought you probably knew.” Carrie said, grabbing the other corner.

“What?” Rachel gave the lid a push. It didn’t budge.

“About Sam and his
….” Carrie’s eyes focused on Rachel’s hand. “Your hand is bleeding.”

Rachel laughed. “Carrie, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“My parents say the same thing all the time. Old people love me.” Carrie grinned. “Want me to try to lift the lid? I’m stronger than you think.”

“Sure. My old bones appreciate it. Just be careful. Push the lid straight up. I’ll stuff the bags inside.”

“Do you smell something?” Carrie asked as she managed to lift the lid.

Rachel nodded. “Probably more dead kittens. The police took the dead kitten they found for some reason–probably to justify the expense of calling out the crime lab. But I guess they might have missed another.”

With visible effort, Carrie pushed up the dumpster lid open about six inches.

“A little higher,” Rachel said, holding one bag near the small opening Carrie had created.

***

“You should ask her out for dinner at that new Italian restaurant. Jeff knows someone who can get you reservations.”

“Don’t be playing matchmaker, Kathleen O’Herlihy. Rachel and I–”

“So it’s Rachel now,” Maura interjected. “On a first name basis.”

Bridget smiled. “Uncle Mac would need some new clothes if he’s going to date anyone.”

***

“Is it too heavy for you?” Rachel asked as Carrie struggled to raise the lid higher. “Let me call Sam and Ray.”

“No, I’ve got it.” The teen extended her arms and shoved.

The lid flipped backwards with a loud clang.

Carrie screamed loud enough to wake the dead.

***

Mac’s head snapped to face his goddaughter. “What’s wrong with my clothes? Whose side are you on? Give me back my damn jelly beans.” He glanced around. “In fact I want every box and bag of candy I generously distributed back in my hand before I leave here!”

The table erupted in laughter at the red-faced detective.

In a stage whisper to Sean, Jeff said, “At least he forgot about my beer.”

The laughter got so loud that Mac could barely hear the ringing in his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID and then quickly motioned to the group for quiet.

“Sullivan,” he barked. He listened intently. “I’m on my way. Call the police too. Don’t touch a thing. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Chapter
27

Mac made good time considering Sean’s car lacked flashing lights and sirens. He pulled into the funeral home parking lot right behind an unmarked D.C. police car.

“Mac.” Joanne Giles greeted him as she exited the driver’s door.

“Detective.” Mac smiled at the dark-haired policewoman. “We meet again. I see you got stuck partnering with Pete. My sympathies.”

The scruffy narcotics detective grinned as he got out of the police car. “I’m the one you should be giving condolences to. Joanne must have been a cab driver in another life. It’s going to take awhile for my stomach to retreat back down my throat.”

“Go ahead and whine, you wimp. I’ve got seniority and if I want to drive, I’ll drive.” Joanne turned her attention back to Mac. “What do you know?”

Mac shrugged. “Probably not more than you. Rachel Brenner called me about twenty minutes ago. She reported finding a body in the funeral home dumpster. Female, maybe a college student at Concordia. Her assistant thinks she knows the deceased.”

Pete took a toothpick from his pocket and slowly unwrapped the cellophane covering. He nodded at the group of a dozen police cars between them and the front door of the funeral home. “It looks like a full house in there. Maybe I’ll nose around out here first. That’s Mrs. Brenner’s van, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Mac watched the man stick the toothpick in his mouth and walk towards the vehicle in question.

Joanne sighed and tapped Mac’s shoulder. “Here comes trouble.”

Mac trained his eyes on the overweight cop glaring at him from the funeral home entrance. “I guess it was too much to hope that on a Sunday afternoon Eddie would have been passed out in front of the TV too drunk to answer the phone.”

“Well, I’ve personally never been that lucky. Sorry to leave you to him, but I’ve gotta check in with Greeley. See what he wants Pete and me doing,” she nodded her head towards her partner who was walking slowly around the van, “other than parking lot duty.”

“Pete’s got a problem with crowds,” Mac warned. “But he’s a good cop to have covering your back.”

“Yeah, I know.” Joanne frowned. “You think that body was here last night and we missed it?”

Mac glanced towards the dumpster surrounded with yellow police tape. “I didn’t look in–”

“Mac Sullivan. Looks like your girlfriend’s brother racked up another kill,” Eddie Gorden yelled as he approached the two.

“Later,” Mac whispered to Joanne before she stepped away.

“Hey, Sullivan, I’m talking to you. You know where Dan Thayer is, you better cough him up,” Eddie declared, passing Joanne with a smirk. “There’s some real cops here today.”

Mac hoped the stain on the man’s dress shirt was spaghetti sauce and not an indication he’d been screwing up evidence. “Did you decide to wear your lunch?”

Eddie flushed and then grinned as he appeared to remember his mission. “Greeley wants your ass inside. Says he needs you to get the funeral lady’s attention. I tried warming her up for you, but I guess I’m not her type.”

When Mac didn’t immediately respond, Eddie jabbed him again. “Where’s your mutt? You look kind of lopsided without that flea-bitten horse leaning on your leg.”

At that moment Whiskey emerged from the bushes where she’d gone to do her business.

Eddie grinned. “Have you been letting that dog take a leak in the crime scene? The lieutenant isn’t going to like that.”

Mac gritted his teeth and cut a wide circle around the cop as he headed for the funeral home. He was afraid of getting within arm’s reach; afraid he might just do Greeley a favor and have a gun malfunction.

***

“I’m not talking to you any more without an attorney,” Rachel declared, exhaustion and fear slowing her speech dramatically. It seemed like they’d been questioning her for hours instead of only a few minutes. The first police cars had arrived less than five minutes after her 9
-1-1 call. Ten minutes after she’d removed Dan’s keychain from where it was draped over the girl’s cold fingers.

“There’s a phone. Call one,” Lieutenant Greeley responded, crossing his arms and leaning back in Jeff O’Herlihy’s chair. “I’ll wait. In fact we’ll all wait, right here. No matter that a killer is getting away and every minute counts. Take your time and let me know when you feel comfortable answering a few simple questions about what you are doing here on a Sunday.” He paused and took a cigar out of his pocket.

Mac walked into the room. “Talk to him Rachel. He may not look like it, but he’s one of the good guys.”

Greeley
frowned and glanced down at his black suit. He tugged downward on his grey vest. “What do you mean? I look real good today. Hell, I look good every day.”

She raised her eyes and stared at Mac, wondering why he’d been her first call and why she was relieved that he was here. It didn’t make sense. He was one of them. He’d blame the death of that young girl
…. Carrie had said her name was Tia Hu. Rachel blinked, but she could still see the long black hair and mixed with the darkened blood on the girl’s head. The smell had been terrible. Somehow it was different when they were inside on a prep table.

“No white hat.” Mac pulled out a chair and sat down.

The motion of the chair moving caught her attention and drew her away from the nightmare scene playing over and over in her head.

“What?” Rachel’s eyes wearily moved back and forth between the men, her mind hadn’t registered their conversation.

Mac strummed his fingers the tabletop. “Rachel, why are you here?”

“What?” She looked accusingly at
Greeley and then back to Mac. “He said I couldn’t leave. And he’s got the kids locked up somewhere too. Can he question them without me being there to–”

Mac held up a hand. “Yeah, they’re all over eighteen. The police can question them.”

“They don’t know anything,” she protested. “As soon as I saw the body, I sent them to the van to wait.” She had sent them to the van and then had reached over into the dumpster.

Mac paused and then tried again. “What I meant was why are you here–in the funeral home–today? Isn’t it closed on Sundays?”

“After the break-in I needed to come back today to do an inventory and deal with the cat. Someone must have been here last night, hiding until we left.” She left the rest of her thoughts unspoken. The killer had been hiding and waiting for a chance to dispose of the body and frame Dan.

“Hiding along with a body in tow?”
Greeley asked. “The coroner says the body was moved. Miss Hu wasn’t killed here. Why do you suppose someone would dump a body at this funeral home?”

“I don’t know.” But she did know, or had her suspicions. Only a chance ray of direct sunlight had spoiled the killer’s plans. The gold horse-shaped fob on the keychain that she’d given Dan last Christmas had glinted brightly inside the dumpster.

Greeley raised his eyebrows but refrained from comment.

Mac stared at her. “The police checked the building. Plus Whiskey and I did a walk through. Nobody was here when we left.”

Rachel turned to glare at him. “Did you check the dumpster? Did the other two detectives who questioned me actually look in there?”

The detective sighed.

“Maybe the dumpster wasn’t the only place you didn’t check out.” Rachel looked from a silent Mac towards Greeley.

“Hey, tell your story and your theories to Mac. I’m just going to sit here awhile and listen.”

Rachel was finding it harder to draw a deep breath. “I need to get some air. The smell is…. Is it hot in here?”

Mac looked towards
Greeley.

Greeley
shrugged. “I don’t smell anything but Bryant’s aftershave. What did you do, swim in the stuff?”

The young cop blushed.

“I can still smell…when Carrie opened the dumpster….” Rachel looked from one man to the other, feeling her stomach churning. “There was an odor…. Can’t you smell it?”

“Was anything missing?” Mac asked softly. He could tell she was confused. Probably in shock. He wasn’t even sure she was hearing him.

Rachel pushed her hair back from her face. “I beg your pardon?”

“You said you needed to do an inventory. Was anything missing? What did you find when you got here?”

“When we arrived? I already told them. I don’t think I can…. You don’t smell anything?”

“Don’t think about the body. Think about when you got here this morning. Was everything still locked up?” Mac watched her face carefully, noticing that she seemed paler by the second.

“I didn’t notice anything.” She paused. “I used my keys to get in.”

“Why were the others with you?”

“Sam and I were having an argument. I wanted to keep them out of trouble; keep them busy.” She stopped and Mac waited. “I don’t feel well.”

Mac looked over at the lieutenant. He could tell from
Greeley’s expression that if he didn’t continue the questioning, Greeley would have someone else do it. “Did you have lunch? Do you want something–”

“God, no,” Rachel answered, raising her hand to her mouth.

Mac pressed again. “Was anything missing?”

“We couldn’t find the mother
…. I brought some food, but we couldn’t find her.”

“Mother?”
Greeley asked, breaking his silence.

“She’s talking about the cat,” Mac explained. “It was missing last night, so we left the kittens here.”

“No one has said anything today about finding a cat.” Greeley motioned to a patrolman standing nearby. “Officer Bryant, go check that out.”

The young officer nodded, making a note in his book.

Greeley sighed. “No APB, son. Just look for a cat.”

“That’s cats, plural, big and small,” Mac offered, ignoring the expression on
Greeley’s face and hoping that the moment of levity would ease the tension in the room.

Rachel looked blankly from Mac to
Greeley and then glanced at the patrolman. “I know you. You’re the basketball player.”

Mac and Greeley looked at each other and then Joe Bryant.

The young cop blushed and put his notebook back in his pocket. “I used to have a pretty good 3-point shot.”

***

The nausea was worse. Rachel was having trouble hearing them over the noise of the blood pounding in her head. “I think she may have gotten outside again. But I brought some food just in case
….”

Greeley
shifted in his chair, attracting Mac’s attention.

“What?” Rachel asked, looking at
Greeley. She flinched as her voice seemed to echo inside her skull. Taking a deep breath, she held very still in hopes that the clamor in her head would quiet. This was ridiculous. She’d seen dead bodies before. Lots of them.

Greeley
removed the cigar from his mouth. “Let’s try to move away from the cat topic. According to the girl, what’s her name, Carrie, the victim worked with your brother and reported to Mrs. Lopez, the woman who was killed a few nights ago. Four people worked in that office. Three are now dead. The way I see it the one who’s left is either the killer or the next victim.”

Killer. Victim. Killer. Victim. Dan. A roaring sound slowly replaced the echo in her head. She returned her hands to the table, gripping the edge to steady herself, as the waves rushed in.

“Rachel, do you know who killed that girl?” Mac’s blue eyes found hers and latched on.

“No.” The roaring was deafening. She tried not to think about what she’d wrapped in a tissue and hidden inside her bra.

“Rachel?”

Mac’s concerned face swam in front of her as the waves engulfed her.