Deception with Murder (A Rilynne Evans Mystery, Book Two)
Read Deception with Murder (A Rilynne Evans Mystery, Book Two) Online
Authors: Jenn Vakey
Book two of the
Rilynne Evans Mysteries
Jenn Vakey
For my beautiful daughter Teagan,
My inspiration and the reason
for everything I do.
“
D
on’t get me wrong,” Ben Davis said as he set the large box down. “It’s a really great house, but what was the big hurry to move out of your apartment? You still had eight months left on your lease.”
“I don’t suppose saying it just wasn’t big enough would be a sufficient answer?” Rilynne asked with a hopeful tone.
“Well, since you spend all of your time at work, I’m going to have to say no.”
Rilynne smiled and sat down on the chair she had just carried in. “Well,” she said. “It was worth a try. The truth is, I just couldn’t take it there anymore. Between Hartley glaring at me every time our paths crossed and still feeling violated, I just don’t feel comfortable there anymore. And don’t even get me started on the closet.”
Rilynne Evans moved to Addison Valley four months before in search of a serial killer. Between being a skilled profiler and her visions, she had been eager to get involved. When Derek Hartley, the man living in the apartment above hers, escaped the perpetrator, they learned the killer was none other than Nicole Benson, a member of their own department. Although Derek Hartley managed to escape with his life, he still suffered a leg amputation. Because Rilynne had developed a close friendship with Nicole, he held a great deal of resentment toward her, which he didn’t hide whenever he looked at her.
“Okay, I can understand still feeling violated after Nicole broke into your apartment, but why would you have issues with your closet?” he asked with a touch of amusement. “She built the shrine in her closet, not yours.”
Nicole had been in love with Ben’s older brother, Justin. After his passing, she built a shrine to him behind a secret panel in the back of her closet.
“Yeah, but since the apartments have the exact same layout, I couldn’t walk into my closet without thinking about it,” she explained, stepping back out into the yard.
Ben rolled his eyes as he walked past her toward the moving truck. The cool October breeze hit his shaggy, dirty blonde hair making it dance around his face. As it flew out of his eyes, she could just make out the half-inch scar above his left eyebrow where Nicole had attacked him. The twinge of guilt she felt at the sight of it was quickly forgotten, though, as the sweet smell of peaches floated toward her.
Rilynne had found a quaint two-bedroom house that backed up to the woods surrounding Addison Valley. Despite having a giant kitchen and a whirlpool bathtub that could easily sit four people, her favorite thing about it was that she only had to take three steps past her back gate before stepping through the tree line. It would make her early morning jogs much more convenient.
“So is anyone else coming to help?” Ben asked, hauling a particularly heavy looking box.
“What, you don’t want to spend the entire day here getting all sweaty?” she asked. The words had just left her lips when she felt her cheeks growing warm. Ben seemed to have noticed it, because he just flashed his playful smile as he carried the box past her.
“Good one,” she said quietly to herself. Over the past few months, Rilynne and Ben had grown very close. The feelings were only compounded when she allowed herself to be abducted by a known serial killer in order to save his life. Although the department had lifted the zero-fraternization rule, Rilynne still knew she couldn’t pursue anything further than friendship.
She had just made it through the front door with a box of pillows when her phone started to ring. “It’s Matthews,” she said as she balanced the box on her hip and pulled the phone from her pocket. “Knowing him, he’s probably lost.”
“Hey,” she said, holding the phone to her ear. “Are you having trouble finding the place?” She sat the box down on the coffee table and groaned. “Okay, see you in twenty,” she said, hanging up the phone.
“Is he on his way?” Ben asked.
“No, change of plans actually,” she said on a long sigh. “Apparently the news report didn’t go out letting the criminals know that today is supposed to be my day off, and to wait until tomorrow before deciding to murder anyone.”
“Shame on them,” he joked, leaning against the wall with his arms folded in front of him. “So what are you going to do? Aren’t you supposed to have the moving truck back tonight?”
She grabbed a box off the dining room floor labeled ‘work clothes’ and pulled it open. “I’ll just have to take it back a day late. It’s not a big deal,” she said, pulling out a clean shirt and pair of pants. “I’m going to go change and I’ll walk out with you.”
It was hard to maneuver around her bedroom. Between the disassembled pieces of furniture and the boxes stacked halfway to the ceiling, she had just enough space to squeeze through to get to her bathroom. When she changed and walked back out, she was surprised to see Ben still hard at work.
“Hey, Tylers just called and said that he’s about ten minutes away. I’m going to stay here and wait for him so we can get the heavy stuff out of the truck since you won’t be able to get it yourself. I’ll lock up when we’re done, if that’s okay with you,” he said.
She was slightly taken aback by his offer. “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have better things to do on your day off.”
“Let’s see,” he said, putting on his best thinking face. “No, not really. Besides, it saves you the trouble of having to look for someone to help you tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” she said with a smile as she reached for her purse. “There’s a key on the kitchen counter, and the keys to the truck are around here somewhere. The next time we go out, drinks are on me.”
She gave him one last heartfelt smile before rushing to her car.
Rilynne was not used to driving to work. Her apartment had been only three blocks from the station, so she would run whenever the weather permitted it. Now she was just over two miles away.
Detective Todd Matthews, a tall man in his mid-thirties, had just walked out the front doors of the station when she climbed out of her car. After the Pirate Killer case was closed, nearly half of the detectives in the unit transferred to other squads, leaving only nine homicide detectives, including Detective Patrick Wilcome, head of the homicide unit. Rilynne and Matthews had worked so well together on the case, Detective Wilcome made them partners.
“Let’s go,” Detective Matthews abruptly said. She could tell by the look on his face that things were more serious than he had said on the phone. Before she could ask, he continued. “We just got the ID back on the victim. He’s an undercover cop.”
“
W
hat do we know?” Rilynne asked as she climbed into Matthews’ car. She hadn’t even managed to completely shut the door before he pulled onto the street.
“His name is Shane Villarreal. His body was found in a vacant house this morning by a realtor,” he said solemnly. “That’s all I know right now.”
“Did you know him?” she asked.
He nodded, eyes still firmly on the road ahead. “I worked with him for three years before he went undercover. Katy and I had dinner with him and his wife just before he took the assignment.” He trailed off as he swung his car quickly around the next turn.
Rilynne wanted to find out more, but decided not to push.
The house had already been taped off when they arrived, and a small crowd had formed in front.
“Isn’t that Avery Steele?” she asked, pointing to a petite brunette in a suit standing with an officer just inside the tape.
“Yeah,” he replied. “She was the real estate agent who found him.” Avery Steele’s brother, Jeremy Steele, was another member of the homicide unit. Rilynne had met her three months before when she assisted them with housing records they needed for a case. Avery had also helped her when she was looking for a house to rent. “Dr. Andrews is already inside,” he continued as he climbed out of the car. “Let’s talk to him first, then we’ll see what she can tell us.”
Rilynne gave Avery a friendly nod as they crossed through the yard toward the front of the house. She was still several feet from the door when she was hit by the nearly unbearable smell. Despite all of the scenes she had worked over her four years on the force, it was one thing she had never gotten used to.
“Dr. Andrews,” she said to the stout man leaning over the decomposing body in the middle of the otherwise empty room. Looking beyond the visual signs of death, she could see the victim had long, dark hair that went past his shoulders and a thick, shaggy beard. “What can you tell us?”
“My preliminary findings show that he’s been dead close to seventy-two hours, which is consistent with the neighbors’ reports of hearing gun shots around five on Saturday night. I see two-no, three bullet wounds,” he said, lifting the shirt. “My guess would be a .38 caliber. I’ll send the bullets to ballistics when I retrieve them.”
There was dried blood splattering the front wall and window in the room, and two separate pools of blood on the floor about three feet apart.
“Is all of this blood his?” Detective Matthews asked Daniel Summers, the crime scene investigator processing the scene.
“There are no blood drops leading away from initial area, which would suggest someone else was injured and walked away. It looks like he was standing here-” he pointed to the puddle closest to the wall, “-when he was shot. One shot was a through and through, hitting right here-” pointing to a hole, “-which caused this splatter. He went down here, and at some point either moved himself or was dragged over here where he bled out.”
Rilynne slipped on a glove and reached toward the wall. The tip of her finger barely grazed the bullet hole when pictures began flashing in front of her.
Villarreal was standing with his back to the wall, both hands raised. Bang, bang. He fell to the floor. He was trying to stand back up, but couldn’t seem to manage it. After several moments, he started crawling forward, reaching for something just out of sight. He rolled over onto his back, trying to say something as the blood leaked from his mouth.
Bang!
“Was there anything else found in the room?” she asked Summers while looking around to see what he could have been reaching for.
“No,” he responded quickly. “Other than the body, the room was empty when we arrived.”
“Let me know if you learn anything else from the body,” Matthews said to Dr. Andrews before stepping toward the door. He took one last look of his slain friend and turned to Rilynne. “Let’s go talk to Ms. Steele and see what she can tell us.”
Avery still looked quite shaken as they crossed the yard toward her. Rilynne offered a warm smile in hopes of providing some comfort, but it didn’t seem to have the desired effect.
“Detective Matthews,” she nodded gently toward him. “Rilynne, nice to see you again.” Despite her polite tone, Rilynne couldn’t help but notice that she looked as if she wanted to cry. It was only made worse when Dr. Andrews wheeled the body bag out of the house moments later.
“We can go back to the station if it would make you more comfortable,” Rilynne offered warmly. Avery seemed to have actually considered it before finally shaking her head. “Okay, then we’ll make it quick,” she continued. “Did you see anything out of the ordinary this morning when you arrived at the house, other than the obvious of course?” she motioned toward the medical examiners van.
Avery shook her head again. “The lights were all off, and the door was still locked. I didn’t notice anything was wrong until I opened the door. It was the smell.” She made a face as if she could still smell it. “I told the Brunners to wait outside while I stepped in to find the source. I had just rounded the corner in the entryway when I found him.”
“Did you touch anything?” Detective Matthews asked. There was a kindness in his voice that she didn’t often hear.
“No, just the door knob when I opened the door. Oh, and the lock box on the spigot,” she said. Her eyes were fixed on the ground in front of her. “When I saw the body, I tried to trace my steps back out and called it in.”
“Your brother will be proud,” Rilynne said, placing her hand on Avery’s shoulder. “You handled the scene like a pro.” Avery responded to the compliment with a smile, but it was barely visible behind the look of horror still on her face.
After walking Avery back to her car, Matthews and Rilynne started toward theirs. Rilynne was reaching for the door handle when someone called out from the front of the house.
“Detectives!” Summers came hurrying toward them. “I found this and thought you should know immediately, given the circumstances.” He held out an evidence bag with two small vials in it. Rilynne took it from him and glanced over to Matthews, who was leaning over the car looking at her. “We found these in his pockets,” Summers said, struggling to catch his breath. “I did a quick field test, and it came back positive for cocaine. We can run a more in-depth analysis back at the lab.” Rilynne nodded and handed the bag back to him as she climbed into the car.
“No,” Matthews said as soon as he sat down. There was something in his tone that told Rilynne not to ask anything, so they rode in silence back to the station.
It was nearly three when they pulled up in front of the station. They had just stepped out when she saw something rushing toward them from the corner of her eye.
“Is it true?” An officer Rilynne had seen only in passing ran up to meet them. “They’re saying that the body found this morning was Shane Villarreal. Was it really him?” The man, who had short dark hair and rich brown eyes, looked to be only seconds away from a panic attack.
“Inside, Vega,” Matthews said, quickly looking around.
Once in the lobby, he led Officer Vega to the back corner. “We were able to confirm that it was Shane. I know you two were very close,” he said, placing his hand on Vega’s shoulder. “Can you come up at four-thirty to give an interview?”
His head bobbed up and down vigorously. “Of course, anything I can do. Do you know if anyone’s told Jane? She’s going to be devastated.” There was something in his expression that Rilynne could not quite make out. On the surface, he was obviously in mourning for his friend, but there was something else going on. She was about to ask him what it was, but decided that it wasn’t the right time. “Detective Wilcome is making the notification. But for now, we need to make sure his true identity doesn’t leave the department. If his cover was still intact on the case he was working, we want to keep it that way as long as possible.” Officer Vega just nodded as Matthews and Rilynne turned and walked toward the elevator.
She glanced back at him before stepping in when the doors opened. He was still standing where they left him, dragging his fingers through his hair. Like when they were speaking to him, there was something on his face that was off. Before Rilynne could really put much thought into it, though, Matthews reached out and pulled her into the elevator.
“Shane’s partner is meeting us here at three-thirty. He should be able to fill us in on the case he’s been working,” Matthews said as they stepped back out onto the third floor and made their way into the office.
“Do you know anything about it?” she asked as she sat down at her desk just inside the door. “Was is drug related?”
He shrugged, rubbing his hands over his face as he sat down on the edge of her desk. “Wilcome’s meeting with his sergeant after visiting Jane. Shane is-was a good cop, though. He would
not
have had narcotics on him unless it was somehow related to a case.”
Rilynne had known several officers over the years that had delved so deeply into their undercover lives, they were forever changed. Shane Villarreal had been on assignment for over a year, so despite Matthews’ assurances, she knew the possibility was still there.
“Officer Clark,” he called out over her shoulder. Rilynne spun around in her chair to see a scruffy looking man walking in.
In lieu of a standard police uniform, he dressed more like a homeless man. His baggy clothes were covered in dirt, and judging by the smell, urine. His hair was long and matted, and equally as dirty. If Matthews had not identified him as an officer, she wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a line up.
Matthews directed him toward the conference room at the other side of the office. “Collin Clark, this is Detective Rilynne Evans,” he said as he pulled out a seat for Clark near the door. Rilynne chose the seat across the table from Clark to escape the smell. “What can you tell us about the case Shane has been working on?” he continued.
“There have been a string of home invasions the last two years, which have been growing increasingly more violent,” he explained. “We’ve been able to tie thirty-nine robberies to the crew based on the M.O. They were all rear entry via a broken window either on or near the back door, with both the power and the phone lines cut. At first, they were knocking on doors to see if the homeowners were home. If someone answered, they would pretend to be selling something and would leave. Lately, though, they don’t seem to care if the home is occupied or not before entering.
“We managed to flip one of the men in the crew and were able to get Shane in. He’s been working with two low level thugs fencing the stolen property, but he hasn’t been able to identify the ringleaders. The last time I spoke with him he said he thought he was getting close. He sounded really excited.” His last words seemed to hit him hard.
“If he had found something, who would he have told?” Rilynne asked.
“He was checking in weekly with the sergeant. If he had anything definite, it’ll be in his reports.” He hesitated before continuing. “He had a couple false leads his first few months on the case, and he told me he wasn’t going to let it happen again. If he just had suspicions about something, he wouldn’t have told the sergeant about it. He always wrote everything down in his journal, though.”
Matthews jotted a few lines down in his open notepad. “Do you know where we could find his journal?” he asked.
Clark shook his head. “He would have kept it somewhere no one would be able to find it, but where it would still be easily accessible for him. Start with his undercover apartment or a locker at the gym,” said Clark.
“When was the last time you spoke with him?” asked Rilynne.
“Let’s see,” he leaned back in his chair, running his hands over his dirty face as he thought. “Six days ago.”
“What was his mental state?” she asked. “Did he seem worried about anything?”
He shook his head quickly. “On the contrary. He was actually pretty excited. He said he thought he would be meeting the men in charge soon. He was eager to get back to his old life, I think. He and Jane had been talking about starting a family just before he went under. Shane said he was ready, and he was actually considering taking a desk job. He knew it would be safer and that it would make Jane happy, which is all he really cared about.”
“From your observations, how was his relationship with Jane?” Matthews leaned forward uneasily. Rilynne couldn’t help but think it made him uncomfortable sifting though the life of a friend. “I know he was not the type of person to share problems at home, but is there any thing you have observed that would suggest they might have been having problems?”
