Dead Women Tell No Lies (21 page)

The next morning, Rose finished her breakfast and decided to walk to the police station to show Lennox the page. Everything seemed ordinary in the light of day and her message from beyond the grave seemed impossible, but then Dahlia appearing to her was not likely either.

Still, doubts ate at her. Had she somehow written the warning while she was half asleep? People walked and ate in their sleep. Why not write? The cool air whipped through her jeans, and she zipped up her parka. She hurried past the cupcake store on Main where customers lined up to buy their favorite flavor before the store ran out. Overhead, the bright sunshine held out a false promise of warmth. A piece of paper and dirt blew toward her, and she averted her face.

Resting her hand on the bulge of the gun in her purse, she broke into a jog and reached police headquarters in six minutes. The uniformed clerk behind the glass took her name and told her to wait. She should have called Lennox first. Maybe he wanted to avoid her after their unofficial date at the Drowns. At least it felt like a date, until the end. Of course, Lennox wouldn’t let a woman distract him from his job. Single minded or bull headed described him best. In Lennox, the characteristic was an admirable trait.

She found an empty chair against the wall in the station’s waiting area. Two senior citizens were seated at the end of the row. A walker reposed in front of one of the men. Near the clerk’s area, another elderly gentleman in a wheelchair kept watch on everyone entering and leaving. The clerk called a name and the senior with combed over hair grabbed his walker and wavered to his feet. He crept toward the metal detector while the officer held the door open.

“Some people seem to get more consideration than the rest of us,” a short, pudgy man at the end of the row huffed.

What was the story with the elderly? She’d little time to imagine before the clerk called her name. Rose was admitted through the metal detector and then led toward Lennox’s cubicle.

The large workroom was full of oldsters being interviewed. “Did someone mug a little old lady in the crosswalk or are they auditioning for a remake of the Golden Girls?” she asked, entering Lennox’s space without waiting for him to invite her inside.

His taut face alerted her he hadn’t slept much.

“Morning, Rose.” His eyes warmed. “It’s nice to talk to someone today who’s not mad they canceled Murder She Wrote. Sit.” He threw out a hand at the metal chair in front of his desk. “We’re re-interviewing the cast of The Angels Are Singing Tonight. Myra included every breathing, elderly male of the Ledgeview Senior Citizen community.”

“You’re interviewing the entire cast?”

“We can’t let anyone slip through.” He sipped from a steaming mug, and the aroma of coffee floated into the air.

“You’re drinking Espresso. It has a good bold taste that suits you.” Rose inhaled the scent for a quick caffeine fix before she perched on the chair warm from the last body.

“Glad to have your stamp of approval, Miss Blue. I could use more. By the way, nothing forensic showed on the pin from your doorbell. They can be bought at any discount store with a craft or sewing department.”

“Sorry. Did you hear any more about Shauna this morning?” She rested her purse in her lap.

“No word from the Drowns or Shauna.”

“Too bad, but I won’t take up much of your time.” She fished in her purse and removed the journal. “I found a sentence I don’t remember writing in my entry last night, and it’s bugged me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I fell asleep and the last thing I remember writing was my name in my diary. When I woke up, this sentence was printed on the next blank page. She held out the journal.

He stared at the words,
Go home!
His face remained expressionless. “I’ll have my handwriting expert examine it. If someone broke into your apartment—”

“The chain was on. No one could have gone in or out unless they were a shadow.”

“Rose, your stalker could have locked himself inside.”

“Inside?” Sick dread closed her throat, and she had to swallow to speak. “There must be a rational explanation.”

“I’ll install a new lock today.”

She dragged an unsteady hand through her hair. “You could be wrong, Lennox. I mean no one was in my apartment this morning, and the chain was still on. It doesn’t make sense. Besides, I’ve been thinking, and I figured out who wrote the words.”

“Who?” His intense stare dared her to downplay the situation.

“My sister. She always hearted her exclamation point.”

“Your dead sister wrote to you last night?” Both his brows shot up. “Now I really want my expert’s opinion. I have a sample of Dahlia’s signature from her driver’s license and a shopping list found in her wallet. I’ll bag the letter.”

He thought she was crazy. She straightened in her chair, encouraging the anger to overtake her fear. “The message could be a warning, or she’s angry with me. We fought over the stolen money the last time I saw her alive. See, she’s never gotten over it. She’s still mad at me and wrote me the threatening note.” She paused. “You don’t believe me.”

“Rose, you have to admit it’s a little out there.”

She’d try her other theory. “Dahlia might have written the message through me and I don’t remember. I’ve heard about it happening. What about the man who killed his wife in his sleep?”

“He was found guilty of perjury and murder.” Lennox moved nearer to her and rested his hip on the desktop. “Let my experts examine the handwriting. It’s possible it’s a forgery.”

She handed over the note. His disbelief hurt more than the idea of someone locked in her apartment. “Knock yourself out.”

She turned to leave. The sooner she was away, the happier she’d be.

“Are you parked in the rear lot or out front?”

She paused at the cubicle exit. They stood so close together, her arm brushed against his chest. Despite her conflicting irritation and fear, the feeling of attraction enticed her nearer. “I walked.”

“After what happened to Shauna and your experience last night, you should—”

“No police manual talks. I can’t sit around, cowering in Dahlia’s apartment. I came to Ledgeview to be sure her killer was caught and soon. I’ve a business and life to get back to. Staying inside my apartment accomplishes nothing and defeats my purpose. Right now, I’m going to the library. I want to reread the articles about my sister’s death. I might have missed something.”

He pinned her with a disapproving stare, and she stifled the urge to defend herself. Why did she have to want a man who didn’t even believe in her? The memory of their kiss now brought regrets. “If any of the seniors flash back to a memory of my sister at the Audi, let me know.”

“Listen, young man,” a gravelly voice boomed over Lennox’s portable wall. “I delivered her to heaven where she belonged. I confess. Take me away.”

Lennox and Rose exchanged a glance and bounded around the divider.

Ten feet away, an elderly gentleman with white-hair thudded his fist against the plainclothesman’s desk.

“What’s happening here, Conroy?” Lennox demanded.

The other detective’s mouth pulled downward.

The senior tilted his head back and the shoulders of his elbow-patched corduroy jacket sagged over his thin shoulders. “I was reciting my line from the play. It was a showstopper.” His gaze landed on Rose. “Are we acquainted, young lady?”

“Me? No, we’ve never met.”

“Did you meet her identical twin?” Lennox asked. “She was in the play at the Audi with you. Her name was Dahlia Blue.”

“Excuse my confusion about our last meeting. I thought it was because I didn’t take my Metamucil today.” He winked at Rose. “Would you like to hear Othello’s Soliloquy? I learned it when I was sixteen and have never forgotten one word.” He dropped his voice to a confidential level. “The play was my first stage role at the high school.”

“Sir,” Lennox interjected. “Did you know Dahlia Blue?”

“I don’t think so. Is she here?”

“Let’s start again. What’s your name?”

“Why, Othello, of course.”

“Fred Melvin,” Conroy said, tossing his pen on the desk with a shake of his head.

“I can provide you with a resume of my performances if you’d like.” Othello widened his eyes in anticipation.

“Please,” Rose cut in. “You must remember Dahlia. She was my identical twin.”

“I’m sorry, young lady, I only remember my lines. I can recite personal references if you prefer, though I’ve not seen most of them in a dog’s year or longer.”

“Thanks for the offer, Mr. Melvin,” Lennox said. “I have to escort the young lady from the building. Detective Conroy wants to learn more about your performances. Deliver a few lines to him.”

“You’re a big help, Lennox.” Conroy’s lips turned up in a pucker of disagreement.

“A gentleman always accompanies a woman to her destination,” Othello called after them.

A small thrill went through Rose. For a few seconds, she’d pretend that Lennox was walking her out not because they were involved in a homicide case but because he truly cared about her, personally.

At the exit, he held the door and then joined her on the sidewalk away from the front desk clerk who’d watched them with interest.

She lingered near the building. “Othello or Mr. Melvin was too feeble to be a killer. I know you can’t predict by someone’s outward appearance, but I don’t think he could have physically hurt my sister. I wonder what part he played in the Audi show.”

“Fred Melvin was the Ledgeview High School drama coach when my dad attended classes, and he was still there when I was in high school. He used to hang at Joe’s Coffee Shop until he went into the nursing home. Myra gave him a walk on in her play.”

“I’m glad you’re up on your facts.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about the handwriting. I believe in facts, but I’m trying to open my mind to other possibilities.”

“I understand.” Why couldn’t he believe in her and never mind facts?

His hand skimmed over her cheek, and he smiled. “Good, let’s go.” He did his usual scan of the street and sidewalk before they started.

“Do you think you’ll get a break in the case from the Audi players?” she asked, trying to forget the tingle from his touch.

“Unless you want tips on acid reflux, I wouldn’t count on it. I’ve something else to discuss. I didn’t want to mention it at the station since privacy was scarce.”

“What is it?”

“Let’s walk.”

They strolled toward the library. A few shoppers and the early lunch bunch were out strolling to stores and restaurants. Her patience held for half a minute. “Okay, Lennox. What’s happened?”

“I found out A.J.’s father embezzled funds from the car dealership where he worked. His father served time in the state prison for his crime and died shortly after his release.”

“No wonder A.J. never talked about him.” She paused near the Sneaky Sneakers Store as the news sank in. “What happened to his mother?”

“The family broke up when his dad was sentenced. A.J.’s mother died when he was about ten. He then lived with an uncle, who was a mechanic, and his daughter. The uncle passed away three years ago. We’re still searching for the daughter. She could lead us to A.J. Any chance he spoke of her or places she lived?”

“I never knew she existed, which is strange. Dahlia told him all about our family: Gram, our absent father and our mother. I hope A.J is living with his cousin, and once we find her, you can interview and clear him or...arrest him.”

“Remember, information about A.J. is confidential. I’m informing you as the victim’s family. A team went down to Rhode Island this morning to A.J.’s old neighborhood where he lived and worked, and I expect to follow up on their results.

“I’ve been trying to remember everything he’s said or did. I’ll write it down for you. At last, we’re going to arrest Dahlia’s killer.”

“Good, now we’re working together.”

Together. The word echoed in her head. This must mean she was officially off the person of interest list. He wouldn’t work with a suspect. She bit her lip to hold back the bubble of laughter. Everything had turned around, and soon A.J. would be in jail or cleared. Hopefully it would all lead to Dahlia’s killer, and Rose would be going home. But how would she live her life without Dahlia? At least now she spoke to her sporadically. She flicked a glance at Lennox. He’d be out of her life too.

“Have a good time at the library, Miss Blue.”

His sudden dismissal surprised her. She headed off aware the detective was tracking her movements.

She tossed a peek over her shoulder when she stopped on the corner. Lennox was gone. At the screech of tires, her attention flew to the street. A car swerved toward her. She jumped back, her heart pounding in her ears.

The vehicle halted inches from her, blocking her path. What happened?

Her unsteady hand went for her gun while she searched for familiar features through the tinted car’s windows.

“Rose!” Lennox yelled. He charged down the street.

The door of the car flew open.

“Put your hands in the air!” Lennox shouted.