Pulse Points. Mary Baxter Lynn
sister was his only living relative, and following the auto accident that left her chained to a wheelchair, he’d done all he could to better her situation. But he could only go so far and no farther. Some things she would not allow him to do, like move her to a larger, nicer place.
The house, so tiny it was stifling, was a battlefield between filth and illness. Dusty old newspapers and magazines littered the threadbare linoleum floor. Roaches feasted on the leftovers in the dishes cluttering the cabinets. The smell of stale piss overpowered the air-fresheners he’d placed in the light sockets.
“What happened?”
Flora’s scratchy voice pulled him out of his daze. Nothing out of the ordinary, sis. I just shot a woman and killed her. No big deal.
“You look like shit.”
Color stung his face at the scorn in her voice. “I had a bad day at work,” he muttered.
“I have a feeling it’s more than that. Have you been drinking?”
He took a deep shuddering breath. “I wish.”
“There’s some beer in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Beer, hell. He needed something much stronger, but he couldn’t tell her that. “Uh, maybe later.”
She gave him another odd look. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be all right. I just stopped by to check on you.”
“You’re lying,” she said in a cracked voice. “But that’s okay. I’m used to it.”
His temper sparked, but he didn’t fire back. No matter how much he did for her, it was never enough. She had become an embittered, shriveled up old woman with an ax to grind.
“I’m going to bed. Lock the door behind you.”
“Thanks, sis.” His words were coated in sarcasm. “I know I can always count on you.”
She gave him another long look, then wheeled herself out of the room. He didn’t know how long he stood there, the creak in the wheels sending a chill through him.
It was only after he heard the wailing of a siren in the distance that he moved. He fled Flora’s house and drove down every country road he knew. Finally exhaustion forced him to his rented mobile home.
Now, as he continued to pace the floor, he peered at the clock on the secretary in the den. If she’d seen him, he would have been arrested by now. The fact that he hadn’t was a good sign. Suddenly he stopped pacing, feeling his muscles uncoil.
He’d done himself right by waiting, by gambling that she hadn’t seen his face. He threw his head back and laughed. Quite possibly he’d pulled off the perfect murder. His laughter grew in volume. After all, he had an insurance policy.
He knew her.
Four
F ollowing the release of Shirley’s body by the authorities, she was finally being laid to rest. If the number of people attending the funeral was anything to judge by, that was the place to be. It seemed as if half the townfolk had made an appearance at the chapel, perhaps in hopes of viewing Shirley’s bullet-ridden body.
If that were the case, then they were disappointed as the casket had been closed. And well it should have been, Kasey thought, standing to one side at the grave-side services that had immediately followed the memorial tribute. Though not nearly as congested as the service proper, a goodly number had made the trip to the cemetery.
Shirley apparently had built herself a fine reputation in the community, both as a civic leader and business-woman. Still, Kasey suspected the majority of attendees were there out of morbid curiosity.
Kasey had known that Shirley’s parents were deceased and that she had no siblings. Hence, the only two family members in attendance were two cousins. She had met them earlier and expressed her condolences.
Now, as she forced herself to listen to the final words of the minister, Kasey lowered her gaze, wishing once again that this horrible chapter in her life was behind her.
When she finally looked up, she saw Detective Gallain among the mourners. Her instinct told her he wouldn’t leave until he spoke to her. She was right.
“Hello, Mrs. Ellis,” he said a short time later.
Though a feeling of dread surrounded her, Kasey maintained her composure. “Good afternoon, Detective.”
“Are you feeling better?” he asked, the uncomfortably warm sun catching the frayed corner of his tie, drawing attention to his disheveled appearance.
Kasey nodded as she dwelled on that simple flaw while waiting for him to say what was on his mind. This was his show. She had nothing new to contribute to the investigation.
“I just wanted to let you know I’ll be around to your office soon to interview the employees.”
“That will be fine, only the agency’s closed for the rest of the week.” Kasey heard the stiffness in her tone, but couldn’t control it. “Out of respect for Shirley.”
Gallain narrowed his eyes on her. “Speaking of Ms. Parker, have you thought of anything else that might help catch her killer?”
“I’m sorry, no.”
“I’m not giving up on you, Mrs. Ellis. You’re still our best hope of solving this brutal crime.”
“I know you feel that way. And I wish I could be of more help. I feel terrible because I can’t give you the magic words that would nail the creep.”
“Just so you don’t stop trying.”
Did he expect her to dwell on that tragedy? Replay it in her mind in hopes something might click? Apparently so. But she refused to do that, though at night when she closed her eyes, Shirley’s body was what she saw. The scene haunted her. If she let it consume her days as well, it would be impossible to maintain her focus and her sanity.
“No small incidents to report?” Gallain pressed.
“Detective Spiller’s watching my house.”
“Right, but there are other ways to scare the hell out of someone.” Gallain’s gaze didn’t waver. “Like phone calls, for instance.”
“Nothing like that has happened.” Kasey paused and pushed her shades closer on the bridge of her nose, trying to block out the blinding sunlight. “But I have to say, this all has me really spooked.”
“Well it should. Until the killer is apprehended we won’t know for sure he didn’t see you. It wouldn’t be wise for you to drop your guard.”
“No one knows that better than me, Detective.”
“Later, then.”
Kasey could only nod, her throat suddenly too tight to speak as she watched Gallain make his way to the unmarked car and get in. In that moment, he reminded her of the bumbling, fumbling Detective Colombo. Sly as a fox and persistent as the devil. And never failing to get the bad guy.
It was after she paid her final condolences to Shirley’s cousins that she saw him. At first she tried to pretend her eyes were playing tricks on her, that the sun’s rays had caused her to misfocus. But when he strode toward her, he filled her vision with solid clarity.
Tanner Hart.
The bottom dropped out of her stomach. She had hoped this day would never come. He was the last person she wanted to see. Ever. But the way her luck had gone these past few days and months, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, it was unfair. Two major blows to the heart in a matter of days were too much.
Kasey longed to turn and run like the coward she was. Only it was too late. Also, her dignity was at stake. The fact she hadn’t seen him in