Open Season for Murder (A Mac Faraday Mystery Book 10) (22 page)

Mac waited until he was out in the hallway before he allowed himself to smile.

David came out of the observation room to join him. “I’ll call the DEA about Dr. Elizabeth Breckenridge. I think it’s safe to say she’s going down for everything from fraud to drug dealing to murder. If her DNA is a match for the women’s skin found under Ashton’s fingernails, we’ll have her for her murder.”

Mac’s chuckle fell abruptly. “Then who was the man?”

“What?”

“Doc said there was a
man
and a woman’s DNA found under Ashton’s fingernails,” Mac said.

“Well …” David scratched his ear. “Parker Lander went over to break up the fight …”

Biting off each word, Mac asked, “Why would he say Carlisle scratched him when it was Ashton who did it?”

David paused before asking, “Are you now saying Dr. Breckenridge
didn’t
kill Ashton? Rachel just said she did.”

“Dr. Breckenridge is right handed. Ashton’s skull was bashed in on the right side towards the front. Her killer is left handed.”

“Maybe—”

“Let me think about this.” In deep thought, Mac adjusted the sling around his arm while pacing up and down the corridor. “If Parker Lander went to break up the fight, he would have seen Dr. Breckenridge on the scene. Rachel says her mother admitted to Ashton scratching her.
She
was the one that Parker and his wife heard fighting with Ashton, not Carlisle. After he went to break up the fight, he returned home with scratches on him.”

David was nodding his head. “Gloria Lander said that in her statement.”

“Which means Ashton Piedmont was alive
after
Dr. Breckenridge left.” Mac stopped pacing and turned to David. “She didn’t kill Ashton. Parker Lander did.”

“But Rachel just said her mother got the copies of the book that proved she had stolen it and she shredded and burned them,” David said.

“Imagine you were Dr. Breckenridge,” Mac said. “You just had a big fight with Ashton in which she’s given you a deadline to confess or be exposed. Drunk, Ashton jumps back into the lake to resume skinny dipping. You may want to kill her, but you don’t have to. The house where she is hiding the evidence to expose you is right there on your way home and you know the security code from all the years you worked there.”

David concluded, “While Ashton was being murdered by someone else, Dr. Breckenridge went into the Piedmont place, found the proof that Ashton was holding over her head, and destroyed it.”

“She didn’t kill Ashton because she didn’t have to,” Mac said.

“Chief!” Tonya hollered from the end of the hallway. “I’ve got a detective on the phone who wants to talk to you real bad.”

When they reached the squad room, the desk sergeant handed the phone to David while telling him in a hushed voice. “Detective Susan Williams from the Lancaster County sheriff’s department in Pennsylvania. She’s calling in response to my background check on the Landers for the Piedmont case.”

“Detective Williams, this is Police Chief David O’Callaghan,” David said into the phone. “My desk sergeant said you wanted to talk to me.”

The feminine voice on the other end of the phone line oozed with excitement. “May I ask why you’re running a check on Parker Lander?”

“He’s a witness in the disappearance of a young woman here at Deep Creek Lake.” David wrote down Parker Lander’s name on a notepad for Mac to read. “Her body was recently found and the case was reopened.”

“Was she murdered?” Detective Williams asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Her head was bashed in,” David said. “Why are you interested?”

“Parker Lander is a person of interest in the disappearance of two young women in our area,” the detective said. “One of them was his son’s girlfriend. Neither of their bodies have been found. His own son is convinced his father had something to do with it, but he has nothing to offer us in the way of evidence against him. We were working on Lander’s wife and thought we were about to break through with her when, conveniently, she broke her neck falling down a flight of stairs.”

“What about the young women?”

“Both college-age girls,” she said. “Very pretty. From well-to-do families. Liked to party. Is that your victim?”

“Very much so.”

The woods surrounding the lakeshore seemed to be filled with movement. While Bogie had grown up on the lake, he had trouble discerning what threats were real and what was simply a squirrel scurrying from one bush to another. Behind him, Parker Lander was thrashing about like a real city slicker while they searched the woods between the Piedmont estate and the Green home.

Finding no tell-tale footprints in the rain soaked woods surrounding the Green estate, Bogie concluded that he was wasting his time. Parker Landers’ active imagination had drawn him away from Carlisle Green, who he had left in the house with instructions to lock the door. With a curse, Bogie turned around on the path. “I’m going inside to call for a couple officers to come out to search these woods. Most likely you scared whoever it was you saw away, or it was simply a deer.”

“Whatever you think is best, officer,” Parker said.

Bogie’s radio cackled when he passed Parker on his way back down the path to the round house. “Bogie, pick up,” Tonya’s voice came through the speaker. “We got an important lead on the Piedmont murder. Green’s neighbor, Parker Lander is suspected—”

Hearing the name, Bogie reached for his gun while turning around in time to see the blur of a thick branch connect with his face.

Mac’s mind was speeding as fast as David’s cruiser which was racing along the lakeshore’s tight twists and turns. “Parker must have freaked when Ashton’s body was found.” He held onto his seat. In the side view mirror he saw a Spencer police cruiser and a sheriff’s deputy car fall in behind David’s cruiser. All of their lights and sirens were going. “If Carlisle can remember him killing Ashton—”

“He probably bashed her head in after raping her,” David said. “Since Carlisle was so stoned, he let her live so that he could pin the blame on her for Ashton’s disappearance.”

“The male DNA under her fingernails has to belong to him.”

Pulling into the driveway, David cursed when he saw Bogie, his head bloody, staggering out of the woods to his cruiser. The muscle bound man collapsed to his knees.

While taking his gun out of its holster, David rushed to Bogie’s side.

“Weapon,” Bogie gasped while tapping his empty holster.

His gun drawn, Mac raced ahead of the other officers around the circular outside wall of the house. As they neared the front door, they heard a scream followed immediately by a crash.

Mac banged on the door with his fist. “Lander! Police! It’s over! Come out with your hands up!” After a long silence, he pounded on the door again. “Lander!”

Carlisle’s voice replied, “He can’t talk right now!”

Mac glanced over at David who came running up to move ahead of the deputies and officers positioned to storm the house with their weapons drawn.

“I could use some help in here!” Carlisle called out again. “Can someone bring me some handcuffs, please!”

Mac opened the door. Leading with his gun, he stepped through the foyer into the center of the circular living room. Furniture and packing boxes had been overturned and dumped over in the fight. Unused, Bogie’s gun rested next to a collapsed coffee table.

In the center of the mess, Carlisle and Parker Lander lay on their backs on the floor. Carlisle’s legs were tightly wrapped around Parker Lander’s neck. She had him pinned between her thighs in a choke hold. She had both arms wrapped around his head.

With only a minimal amount of air to breath, Parker Lander’s face was red. Pleading for help, he wheezed, “She’s crazy.” With one hand, he reached out for help, while trying to pry her legs loose from their strangle hold.

“I guess rehab saved my life in more ways than one,” Carlisle said. “I was required to take a fitness class and really got into mixed martial arts. Best thing a woman can ever learn.”

“She wasn’t supposed to fight back,” Parker panted. “They never fight back.”

“Everyone should go through rehab,” Carlisle said with a grin. “I’ve taken down a wild pig, crocodile, and now a psychopath using the life skills they’ve taught me.”

Stunned, the officers surrounding them stared down at the woman who had singlehandedly taken down a suspected murderer—possibly a serial killer.

Carlisle broke through their collective thoughts. “Well, don’t just stand there, guys. I can’t hold him for you all day.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Sitting at a bank of computer monitors set up in the study at Spencer Manor, Mac, Archie, David, and Chelsea were up to their eyeballs in candid shots taken by guests of the Diablo Ball.

While they had caught Parker Lander in the act of trying to kill Carlisle Green in her home, the server at the Diablo Ball was unable to identify Lander as the man who had sent the possibly poisoned drink to Carlisle Green, which Lindsey York had taken. Not surprisingly, Parker Lander claimed he was not at the Spencer Inn that night. Without any witnesses, they had no way of pinning Lindsey York’s or Jasmine Simpson’s murders on him.

So, Archie had sent out a request to the gala’s attendees requesting their help by sending all of their candid shots in hopes of catching the killer on the scene on the night of the murders. They now had hundreds of selfies and other pictures to search the faces and action taking place in the background to find one shot of the killer handing the poisoned cocktail to the server.

While their humans searched the multitude of images on the computer monitors, Gnarly and Molly were sacked out on the leather sofa taking a long nap. Molly rested her head across Gnarly’s front legs, while he rested his head on top of hers.

Lindsey York’s murder was only one more charge they hoped to pin on Parker Lander, who was already being held for assault on a police officer and attempted murder of Carlisle Green. Suffering from a concussion as a result of the blow to his head, Bogie was taking a well-deserved week of sick leave with his favorite lady, Doc Washington, who was giving him some tender loving care at her farm in the Maryland countryside.

Garrett County prosecutor Ben Fleming believed they had a strong case against Parker Lander for the murder of Ashton Piedmont. Lander’s DNA was a match for the male skin left under Ashton’s fingernails.

“When his wife sent Parker over to break up the fight, he decided to take advantage of the situation by raping and killing Ashton Piedmont,” Archie said.

“There’s no proof of rape,” Chelsea pointed out while scouring the pictures on one monitor.

“Unfortunately, the body was too badly decomposed to prove rape.” Squinting, Mac zoomed in on a picture of Vincent Van Dyke and his daughter on the red carpet. “At least we have more than the sheriff’s department in Lancaster. They have nothing solid. If they could at least find the bodies of these young women …”

“One being his son’s girlfriend,” Chelsea said with disgust. “Now that is a monster.”

“What about Dr. Breckenridge?” Archie said. “She stole an old man’s research, probably killed a university president, and dragged her daughter into dealing drugs to cover up her original theft. Talk about dysfunctional families.”

“Having grown up here on Deep Creek Lake with the rich snowbirds who fly in during the summer season,” Chelsea said, “you’d be surprised how dysfunctional many of these families can be.”

“I’ve seen enough to get a sense of it,” Archie said. “Personally, I think you’re wasting your time trying to pin any of these murders on Dr. Breckenridge. As soon as the DEA weighs through all the evidence that Rachel gave them, they can arrest her mother for her involvement in the drug dealing at the medical school. Her lawyer will no doubt cut a deal in exchange for her testifying against Lindsey York’s partners and both mother and daughter will go into the program. You’ll never be able to touch Dr. Breckenridge for anything. You and David don’t even know where Rachel is since the U.S. Marshals already swept her up to take into the program.”

“You wouldn’t believe all the evidence Rachel had been collecting against Lindsey and those drug dealers over the months,” David said. “She really wanted to get away from her mother.”

“Still,” Mac said, “No harm in trying to get to the truth.”

“Dr. Breckenridge told her daughter that she would get them out from under Lindsey York’s control. She certainly had motive to kill her.” David pointed at the monitor in front of him. “And I’ve got a picture of the two of them over by the piano. The doctor looks like she’s about to blow.”

The four of them crowded around the monitor while David zoomed in on the image, pixelating it in the process. After taking the mouse from him, Archie cleared up the picture for them to see that Lindsey had a wicked grin on her face while Dr. Breckenridge’s face was contorted in fury. On the piano between the two of them was a champagne flute half filled with a red liquid. The red drink in the champagne flute was easy to spot at the event in which every other champagne flute contained a clear sparkling drink.

“She had that drink for a little while.” Archie checked the time stamp on the picture. It read 6: 54 pm. “We’re looking for pictures before this time if we want to get a picture of Lander giving the drink to the server.”

“That’s assuming the drink sent to Carlisle was the one with the poison.” Mac squinted at the picture while zooming in on the glass closer. “We have yet to be able to place Lander at the Inn on the night of the murder. Maybe Dr. Breckenridge slipped the poison into Lindsey’s drink while talking to her.”

“Do you see something, Mac?” David asked.

“That champagne flute.”

David moved in closer to the monitor. “What do you see?”

“It’s what I don’t see,” Mac said. “The Spencer Inn logo. All of our dinnerware, china, glasses, including the champagne flutes, have the Spencer Inn logo stamped on them. The crystal pieces have the logo cut into them. This champagne flute does not.”

Taking the mouse out of Mac’s hand. Archie zoom in on the image even closer. “He’s right. This isn’t one of the Inn’s glasses. As a matter of fact, I’m willing to bet this isn’t even crystal.”

“Why would the killer bring his own glass?” Chelsea asked.

“Because he had the poison coating the inside of it,” Archie suggested.

Chelsea shook her head. “But why bring his own glass? All he had to do was order the drink, drop the poison into it, and then give it to the server to take over to Carlisle.”

“Chelsea’s right,” David said. “It doesn’t make sense. The server stated that the man gave the drink to him to take over to Carlisle.”

A slow grin came to Mac’s face. “The killer
gave
the drink to the server, who didn’t notice him enough in the sea of faces to be able to identify him. Think about it. If the killer was wearing gloves when he gave the drink to the server, I’m willing to bet money he would’ve noticed him.”

“The killer had to be able to identify the glass in order to get it back so that we would not find his fingerprints on it,” Archie said. “So he brought his own glass, without the logo on it.”

“Still doesn’t work,” David said with a shake of his head. “When you order a drink, the bartender uses a fresh clean glass from behind the bar. Health department regs. Even when you request a refill, they use a fresh glass.”

“So the killer mixed his drink elsewhere and carried the glass in,” Mac said. “It’s easy enough to do. The resort is huge. It was Saturday night of a big gala. No one would have noticed a man carrying a drink around.”

Archie and Chelsea sucked in deep breaths. “We have a lot of work to do,” Archie said. “Instead of ‘Where’s Waldo,’ we’re playing ‘where’s the killer cocktail?’”

“Speaking as the lawyer of this group,” Chelsea said slowly, “even if we find a picture of Lander, or whoever, carrying in that glass, you still won’t have a case for murder because you won’t have the glass itself. All you’ll have is a picture of a suspect carrying a champagne flute without the Spencer Inn logo with a red velvet cocktail in it. Without the glass itself with the poison in it, and real evidence connecting the killer to that glass, you won’t have enough evidence for an indictment, let alone a conviction.”

Archie looked from Chelsea to Mac and David, who regarded her with the distaste that comes from a dose of unpleasant reality.

“Just saying,” Chelsea said to break the silence.

“Even so,” Mac said after a long pause, “with that picture, we’ll be getting a step closer to the evidence we do need for an indictment and a conviction.”