Ring Around the Rosy (15 page)

“I’ll assign a tail, and maybe
they’ll notice someone. If this guy is following you, he’s bound to stand out.”
He held her for a while, until she finally pulled away and looked at the clock.
It was time to go.

She kissed Dave, said goodbye, and
noticed the newspaper on the counter. She didn’t have time to even look at it.

“Hold on, you aren’t going
anyplace until you change that outfit.” Dave grinned at her.

Susan looked down at her choice of
clothing and burst out laughing. She looked like Christmas in her red top and
brilliant green slacks.

“I know certain reds and greens go
well together, but this doesn’t quite work. Thanks.”

She changed quickly and hated to
leave, but she didn’t want to be late for another assignment. She kissed Dave
again, and he held her for a moment.

“Try to relax,” he said.

Susan eased herself out of his
arms, smiled, followed him to her
 
car,
and
 
kissed him goodbye again. It
wouldn’t take much for her to get used to that. She liked the way Dave fell
into a pattern of kissing her hello and goodbye.

Two mores roses sat propped
against the windshield.

Dave took the roses, and she told
him about the two from last night, voicing her suspicions of them being from
the killer.

He tried to squelch her fears and
convince her they were from an unknown admirer. “This isn’t characteristic of
his MO. It doesn’t fit with the profile.”

“Great,” she said. “Then I have
two kooks stalking me.”

Dave leaned in and kissed her
cheek. “We’ll find them, don’t worry.”

* * *

Susan drove away and a couple of
minutes later, McBride pulled out, and tailed her. Dave wished he felt as sure
as he sounded when he told her they’d get the stalker. Her apartment had been
staked out, and still no one saw who put the roses on her car or at the door to
her apartment. And how had they gotten in? Horace said he hadn’t noticed anyone.
The thought that someone had a key to the building, or worse, lived there,
scared the crap out of him.
 

He would have tailed her himself,
but he still had a case to work. Somehow, they had to find something, some
small piece of evidence that would lead them to the killer. Whoever this guy
was, he was good. Knew how to avoid leaving trace evidence, knew something
about crime scenes. A former cop? Present cop? Lawyer? Whoever it was knew
enough not to get careless. Cleaned up after himself. But one of these days,
he’d forget something, and then they’d get him.

Chapter Eleven

Herb Miller stood talking to Ray
in front of City Hall. It looked like Ray talked Gloria out of another
assignment. Darn it, she and Gloria had planned on going to lunch afterward.
Susan parked the car and approached the men, throwing a questioning glance in
Ray’s direction while she held out her hand to Herb Miller.

“Mr. Miller, I’m Susan Weston. Are
you ready to get started?”

The interview went well. Harvest
Day sounded interesting, even to her. Maybe she’d ask Dave if he’d like to go
with her. Ray asked her to lunch, and she agreed, only to hear his explanation
of why he had replaced Gloria again.

“I know you expected Gloria. She
told me you had planned on going to lunch. I had to deal with her to trade
assignments. I always loved Strongsville and wanted the assignment.” Ray pulled
her chair out and leaned close against her. Too close, as far as Susan was
concerned.

She tried to focus on the
conversation.

“Gloria finally agreed, but only
after I promised to trade any one of my assignments she wants.” Ray smiled,
took her hand, and asked her a question about the phone calls, and what she
thought of the headlines the last two days.

She pulled her hand away. “I
haven’t even looked at this morning’s paper.

This wasn’t a topic she cared to
discuss. The phone call this morning had rattled her. And, she didn’t like him
touching her. Not that she found him repulsive. Ray was a darn good-looking
guy. She just wasn’t interested, and she didn’t like people fawning all over
her.

She looked at her watch, jumped
up, made an excuse, and, again, left before they finished eating. This time,
she left him with the check.

She stopped at the office to write
the story.

Harvest Days
, a family
oriented event, will be held in Strongsville October 1st through the 5th.
Demonstrations of various crafts such as quilting, basket weaving, candle
dipping, and spinning will be presented.

She leaned back to read it, then
continued, listing the times, faxed the story to the proper department and went
to look for Ernie.

“You know I don’t like you on this
murder story,” he said.

“I appreciate your concern, but
they are my stories, and I have the right to the byline.”

“You’re right. But I still don’t
like it.” Ernie turned in his chair, signaling the interview was over.

Gary waylaid her on her way out.
“Hey, Susan, don’t forget to meet me at the square tomorrow for the Playhouse
Festival story.

She nodded her acknowledgement and
left. Why did everyone choose today to talk to her? The uneasy feeling that
something bad was about to happen caused her stomach to ache. She wished she
could just go away. Hide. Anything to escape.

Susan looked at her watch and
realized she was supposed to be at Clare’s in an hour, and it was a forty-five
minute drive to Riverdale. She wished her sisters lived closer to Cleveland.
She didn’t like driving an hour and a half every visit, and she hated driving
at night. Clare couldn’t understand her fear of driving. Of course, she was the
one who moved away. Clare and her parents lived in Riverdale all their lives.

Thankfully, the visit with Clare
was, for the most part, uneventful. After this morning, Susan didn’t think she
could take any more excitement. To make matters worse, Clare had an attack of
melancholy and recounted the story of meeting Steve. Susan didn’t know what
provoked the story, but she let Clare talk, leaned back and thought about Dave.

“Are you even listening to me?”
Clare’s change of tone brought Susan back to reality.

“Huh? Sorry, just a lot on my
mind.”

“I was saying Dave reminds me of
Steve,” Clare said. “They have that same silly grin.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess they do.” Susan
let Clare ramble, only half listening to her. She had other things to worry
about. Mostly about Dave, the murders, and the roses. Who committed these
terrible crimes? What would happen after Dave found him?

Would she and Dave carry on their
relationship?

Did she even want to?

She couldn’t help but think yes.
For the first time in her life, part of her wanted a relationship. A serious
relationship. What would it be liked to be married to Dave? She wasn’t sure at
this point if she wanted to go that far, but she knew she was ready to move on
to the next level. Marriage? That might be going a bit too far.

“Do you remember our wedding,
Susan?” Clare’s question interrupted her thoughts again, even though her sister
didn’t wait for an answer.

Susan didn’t want a wedding like
Clare’s. Much too big and costly. Nope, she wanted a small, intimate wedding.
In her opinion, weddings should be intimate, shared with family and only very
close friends.

Lord, why was she thinking of
weddings? That was a long way off. A very long way.

And, she wasn’t about to give up
her career, not after working so hard for it.

Nope, Dave would have to
understand. Susan laughed to herself. She’d better get a hold of herself.
Thinking about a relationship was bad enough, but marriage? What made her think
Dave wanted anything more than what they had? Wasn’t like her to be so
presumptuous.

Susan put the thoughts aside and
focused her attention on her sister. “Johnny is a lot like you; even when he
was little, he always had an inner strength in him. He was so patient even with
his building blocks. He had stability about him, like you do.”

Clare jumped from one topic to
another. When had her sister started talking about Johnny? She’d better pay
attention. Susan never realized her sister felt that way about her. Right now,
she wished she felt stable and strong. These murders had zapped whatever
strength she had. If it wasn’t for Dave, she’d probably fall apart.

Or would she?

If it wasn’t for Dave, she’d
probably handle things just fine. She always had before. That was one of the
problems with relationships. You started depending on other people instead of
handling things on your own.

Susan looked at her watch. It was
getting late. “I enjoyed talking, Clare, but I have to leave.” She stood and
picked up her purse. “Try to concentrate on your job, and your marriage will
take care of itself.” If only she believed that, but she was so tired of
hearing Clare’s problems. She just couldn’t listen to the whining anymore. Why
didn’t Clare grow up?

* * *

Susan raced up the steps to her
apartment and put the key in the lock, but before she turned it, the door
opened. Was she getting forgetful? She swore she locked it this morning. With
everything going on lately, it didn’t really surprise her. She pushed the door
opened and turned on the light.

It looked like a tornado had blown
through her living room. She pulled her phone out of her purse and called 911
while she backed out of her apartment.

“I have to report a break-in.”
Susan slumped to the floor in the hall and waited for the police. She didn’t
have long to wait, with one stationed just outside. She waited until they said
she could go in. By then, Dave was there, holding her, comforting her. He led
her inside.

Couch cushions were ripped apart,
their contents strewn everywhere. Drawers stood opened and dumped, dishes
thrown on the floor and broken. Susan couldn’t believe the destruction.

She headed to the bedroom. Dave
stopped her.

“You’re not going in there.”

“I have to.” Susan stepped around
him. “I’ll see it eventually; it may as well be now.” Not that she really
wanted to, but what choice did she have?

“Okay, but you’re not sleeping
here tonight.”

“And where do you suggest I
sleep?”

Dave looked at her for a moment.
“Your mother’s? Sister’s? Hell, Susan, I don’t know. Anywhere but here.”

Susan shook her head.

“You can’t stay here, anyway,”
Dave said. “The Crime Scene Unit will be here most of the night. Stay at my
place.”

“Your place?”

“Yeah, why not?”

She could think of a dozen
reasons. Mostly because she didn’t trust herself.

“I’ll go to Clare’s. Steve’s not
home, anyway.” Like she wanted to spend more time with her sister and listen to
more stories of how she and Steve met. Or worse, about the affair. She didn’t
even know that guy’s name. Not that she cared. She didn’t want to know. What
was the alternative? Dave’s?

What she’d give to stay there. But
dare she? No way could she stop him if he started to make love to her. Nor did
she want to. But not yet. She didn’t take sex lightly. There had to be some
kind of commitment. She wasn’t looking for an engagement ring, and she sure as
heck wasn’t looking for marriage, but she wanted something, not just a one
night stand. No, she couldn’t stay at Dave’s.

“I’ll take you.”

“You don’t have to. I can drive.”

“I know, but I want to. Listen,
Susan, whoever did this is probably watching you. I want to know you’re safe.”

“Fine. Can I get some clothes?”

“Wait here.” Dave went and talked
to one of the crime scene guys.

“Okay, but try not to touch
anything.”

Susan burst out laughing. “You’re
kidding, right?” She looked around. What could she possibly mess up? Everything
from her medicine cabinet lay either on the floor, in the toilet, or in the
bathtub. Fortunately, her deodorant, comb, and toothbrush were in the bathtub.
She didn’t even pay attention to what was in the toilet. She’d deal with it
later. After picking up some clothes off the floor, she glanced in her closet.
Empty. Someone had pulled all her dresser drawers out and dumped them on the
floor. When she had everything she needed, she found Dave talking to one of the
officers.

“Are you ready?”

“Lead the way.”

A few minutes later, they were on
their way to Clare’s. She never even checked her answering machine.

Chapter Twelve

Sally in the water, Sally in the sea, Sally
caught a black bird,
 
but you can’t catch
me.