An Intimate Murder (The Catherine O'Brien Series) (21 page)

Jane sat in the side chair next to my desk, crossed her legs, and considered Louise and then me.

“What about the neighbor’s account of the car that raced away from the scene?”

Oh, shit. I had forgotten that she’d seen us speak to Bernice Leigh, the binocular woman who lived across the street from the Luther’s. Jane must have spoken to Bernice right after I’d had my tirade yesterday.

“Doesn’t the car she described sound like a kid's?”

I swallowed the rest of the donut. “Maybe, but it wasn’t Chad Luther’s car. He drives a red Spyder.”

“True.” She nodded and then uncrossed her legs. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t hire one of his college buddies to off his parents. Depending on how much money his parents had, he could pay someone to kill them. Just like you thought Katie Dolan could have.”

I considered the possibility and then dismissed the idea.

“No way,” I said. “Chad Luther was shell shocked when we saw him yesterday. If he had killed his parents there’s no way he would be as upset as he was.”

Across the desk, I saw Louise mull over my answer. She must have come to the same conclusion, because she shook her head and dismissed the idea.

“He could have been acting.” Jane was perfectly comfortable with her role of devil’s advocate and she played it well. “He could have left the scene, cleaned up, gone into the house, and then turned on the water works. Or, if he had his parents killed by a friend, he may not have known how brutal his friend would be. Then when he saw his Mother he freaked.”

Both theories had merit and possibilities. Before I could come up with a counter to Jane’s proposal the Chief strolled up. A wide grin split his face. It was so unlike him that I wasn’t sure it was him at first.

“Good morning, ladies. I wanted to thank you for the gift.” He fingered an elegant gold tie tack, accented with black onyx. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re very welcome,” Louise said. “Happy anniversary.”

Shit, I had forgotten about the Chief’s anniversary. From the smile he gave, Louise had covered me (again) on the gift front.

I smiled back at him. “Happy anniversary, chief.”

I didn’t feel right saying, “
You’re welcome”
when I had nothing to do with the gift. Of course, I didn’t feel guilty enough to admit that I had forgotten his anniversary all together. No, I would just smile and nod, and later write Louise a check for my half of the tie tack.

“Ms. Katts.” He turned to Jane. “I read your story in the paper this morning. I thought it was good.”

“Thank you.” She gave me an irked smile. “I’m surprised you could find it buried on page twelve.”

I may have been ready to trust Jane more than I had when we started yesterday, but that didn’t mean I was willing to compromise the investigation. When we were finally ready to make an arrest, she would have the scoop of her career. Jane knew it and so did we, so I didn’t feel the least amount of pity for her page twelve exclusive.

“Are you any closer to solving this one?” The chief asked.

“We have a few solid leads,” Louise said.

“Good. Keep me posted.” He touched the tie tack again. “And thank you for the gift. You really shouldn’t have.”

“It was nothing,” I said and grinned at Louise.

Digs was in his accustomed place, hunched over a microscope, when we came to visit this time.

“Knock, knock,” I said and pounded on his desktop.

He looked up and blinked rapidly as if trying to clear his vision. He must have finally realized that without his glasses clearing his vision was hopeless. His glasses were in a plastic tray next to his microscope. He slid his cheaters on and blinked up at me again.

“What do you know, Digs?”

He frowned and shook his head. “Unfortunately, not a lot more than we did yesterday.”

He nodded toward Jane. “Morning Ms. Katts. I see you’re still with us after your impromptu fainting spell yesterday.”

“Yes, Mr. Ray. I appreciate your heartfelt concern.”

“Children,” I said. “Don’t make me turn this lab around and take you both home.”

Digs retrieved a file from the middle of a stack of papers that wobbled like Jello but didn’t fall. Digs was even more of a file, pile master than I am. He handed the file to me and I flicked the cover open with my thumb, inside were the autopsy results for Susan Luther.

“Susan Luther was killed almost instantaneously. Doctor Goldwin says after the first or second puncture she was gone.”

“So the rest of the stab wounds were some serious overkill.” I scanned the details in the report.

“Major over kill,” he said.

“That destroys the theory that Chad Luther hired a killer,” Louise said. “Stabbing is personal. To continue to stab someone after they’re already dead takes malice. A hired killer, even an amateur killer, would stop once their target was dead.”

“Besides,” I said. “I doubt some friend of Chad’s could stomach a stabbing. Unless he was a complete sociopath.”

“That still doesn’t rule out Chad Luther,” Jane said.

She had a point, but I wasn’t about to tell her so. From the look on her face, neither was Louise.

“Whatever,” Jane said. “You know I’m right.”

She glanced around.

“Is there a bathroom around here somewhere? I had a lot of coffee this morning.”

“Down the hall and to your left,” I said.

Once Jane had departed to relieve her bladder, I tossed the file into Digs’ lap.

“What’s not in the report, Digs? You wouldn’t have called us down here for something as mundane as Susan Luther dying on the second stab wound.”

A sly grin split his face. He slid open the top desk drawer and pulled out a clear, plastic baggie.

Louise put on a pair of rubber gloves and then took the bag. She opened the seal and dumped the contents into the palm of her hand.

A small gold circle with prongs.

“It’s a ring,” Louise said.

“Well, the setting for one,” Digs said.

“Where did you find it?” I asked.

“Embedded in Susan Luther’s throat.”

Louise pinched the ring between her thumb and index finger, and held it up.

“She swallowed it?”

“No.” Digs held up his index finger. “It was shoved down her throat post mortem.”

He pretended to stick his finger down his throat.

“Ick,” I said.

“Wait, there’s more.”

He took the setting from Louise and nestled it into a piece of Styrofoam with a slice cut in the center. He opened another plastic baggie and deposited a diamond into the plastic tray that had held his glasses.

“This is the diamond extracted from Jonathan Luther’s chest.” Digs located a long tweezers, picked up the stone by the edge, and nestled the diamond into the setting.

“My God,” Louise said. “Someone was trying to say something with these murders. Are we any further ahead on identifying the serial number on the stone?”

“I’ve put in a few calls. I should hear something by the end of today one way or the other.”

“I don’t understand the message here.” I leaned in close to the setting. “Did you find anything that could help point us towards an answer, Digs?”

He shrugged and wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure how helpful it would be, but the setting is engraved.”

Digs took the ring from the foam and read the inscription.

“True love lasts 4-ever,” he read aloud. “The for is engraved as a number four.”

My mind drifted back to Walter Wren.
I loved one woman for over fifty years until she died last year from the cancer
.

Digs re-bagged the evidence and tucked it back inside an evidence box, just as Jane Katts strode back through the door. The timing was uncanny as if he’d had a premonition.

“What did I miss?” Jane smiled.

“Nothing,” Digs said.

“We should go,” I said. “Unless you have more questions for Digs?”

Louise shook her head. “None that I can think of.”

“Great,” Jane picked her purse off the floor and slung it over her shoulder. “Then it’s time to interview Chad Luther.”

If Chad Luther had paid to have his parents killed for the inheritance, he sure wasn’t acting like it. After asking every person we came across in his dorm, we finally found Chad in the library studying for finals.

“My parents would want me to do well on the exam,” he said.

“Is there somewhere we could talk?” Louise whispered.

Chad spoke privately to the librarian who offered to let us use one of the audiovisual rooms. The A.V. room was five by five with a table a TV, VCR, DVD player, and a small stereo set up.

There were two folding chairs in the room, Chad sat in one and Louise in the other. Jane and I stood pressed against the wall.

A claustrophobic feeling drifted through me but I shoved it aside. It wasn’t like we were trapped in the room. No one locked the door behind us. If I needed to, I could get out of the room, and into the safe openness of the library.

“Chad,” Louise said. “Tell us what you did the day of your parent’s death.”

“Like what?”

Chad’s eyes darted from Louise to me to Jane. He looked like a trapped animal. Louise gave a comforting smile and his eyes fixed on her, clinging to her assurance.

“Just start at the beginning,” I said. “Then tell us everything. No matter how small you think what you did is tell us anyway, step by step.”

He took a deep breath and plunged in. “I got up. Had breakfast at the union. I called my parents.”

“Why?” I asked.

“To make sure they’d be home that afternoon when I got there. Mom thought they might have somewhere to go that afternoon, so I called.”

Too bad they didn’t have an appointment
, I thought.
They might both be alive today.

“Between breakfast and that afternoon when you went to see your parents,” Louise said. “Where did you go?”

“To visit a buddy of mine.”

“His name?”

“V.”

Louise leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “I’m sorry?”

“His name is Marcus Vincent. Everyone just calls him, V.”

Chad held up his fingers in a peace sign, to illustrate what he was saying.

“Does V live here on campus?” I asked.

“No, he has an apartment two or three blocks off campus.”

Chad’s eyes shifted away from mine.

“What did the two of you do until afternoon?” I asked.

My mind had already started to build a sinister scenario.

“We just, uh –” His eyes shifted away from me again. “We just hung out. You know just shooting the shit.”

“Chad.” I pushed myself off the wall and looked down at him with my best police look. “Don’t lie to me. What were you and Mister V doing?”

His eyes refused to meet mine. Chad’ shifted left and right, then left and right again as if he had a wicked case of hemorrhoids.

“Chad? Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you.”

“Well? What were you two doing?” I demanded. “Did you two take a trip to your parent’s house?”

Chad’s head jerked up. “No.”

“I think so,” I said. “That’s why you can’t tell us what you were doing.”

“No.” His head waved from side to side. “Jesus.”

He covered his eyes with his hands.

“Christ this is a fucking nightmare.” He dropped his hands into his lap. He looked up at me and held eye contact. “We did some weed, okay?”

The anticlimactic revelation was a total let down, but I believed what he’d said was the truth. He and V had been smoking pot.

Jane, who had moved to a position behind Chad Luther’s shoulder, rolled her eyes skyward and circled her finger in the air as if to say,
whoopty-fucking-do
. Obviously not enough for a front page exclusive.

“You’re not going to fucking bust us are you?”

“We’re homicide detectives,” Louise said. “Not narcotics.”

Chad sagged against his chair with palpable relief. “It isn’t like I do it all the time, just every once in a while when the pressure is on at school. With finals coming up I’ve been doing a lot of studying. I just needed to blow off steam.”

“So you and V smoked pot and then what?” I asked.

Chad’s trail looked more and more like a dead end and I just wanted to get to its conclusion.

“I went back to the dorms, picked up some of my laundry, and drove to my parent’s house.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “You know the rest.”

“Tell me about your uncle, Jack.” Louise folded her hands together and cocked her head to one side.

Chad ran his fingers through his greasy dark hair.

“Jack is a total dickwad.” He pointed to his chest. “In my opinion. But I’m sure he thinks I’m a dickwad too. I know he thinks I’m a colossal fuck-up.”