Baby Girl Doe (Stephanie Chalice Thrillers Book 5) (13 page)

Kaley stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around her head.
She dried herself with an immense bath sheet that dwarfed her diminutive body and applied lotion before slipping into a pair of soft cotton panties and her flip-flops. She used a broad comb to detangle her long, blond hair, and then shut the bathroom light.

Camryn sat in a kitchen chair that had been turned to the side permitting access from the back. Like Kaley, she was naked from the waist up. Her hair was pinned up and away from her neck.

“Ready?” Kaley asked as she softly ran her fingertips along the sides of Camryn’s neck. “Your neck’s so long and pretty. It’ll be perfect when I’m done with it.”

Camryn was focusing on her iPad screen and seemed oblivious to Kaley’s touch. “Did you scrub your hands?”

“Look,” she replied holding her hands in front of Camryn’s face before grazing her cheek. “I scrubbed them raw.”

“You didn’t have to. I
said
you could wear gloves.”

“I don’t like the way they feel. My hands get all damp and clammy.” Kaley swabbed the back of Camryn’s neck with alcohol and blew gently to dry it. She pressed the tiny stencil to the back of Camryn’s neck just below the base of her hairline and outlined the design with ink. “I’m ready,” she said.

“So am I,” Camryn said without moving her eyes off the screen. “Wait!” she said abruptly and reached for a bottle of bourbon. She gulped a mouthful. “Go ahead.”

Kaley dipped the tip of the tattoo pen in the deep scarlet ink and then began to trace the outline on Camryn’s neck. “Hurt?”

“It’s all right. Keep going.”

Kaley worked quickly and was soon finished with the outside border. “How many times are you going to watch that?” she said with irritation in her voice.

“Until I get tired of it. How’s it going back there?”

“Fine.”
Kaley said resentfully.

“What’s eating you?”

“I’m jealous. Why do you watch them so much?”

“I’m getting an education. Whatever I learn from them I can do with you. There’s no reason for you to be jealous.”

“Are you getting tired of me?” She stared at the couple making love on the iPad. He was behind her as she purred with ecstasy. “I don’t mind if you want to gag me . . . I mean, if it turns you on.”

“No. Could we talk about this later when you’re not poking me in the neck with a sharp needle?”

“I guess.” Kaley dabbed the pen back in the ink and then began to fill in the pattern on Camryn’s neck.

“And don’t go screwing around and draw a pair of balls back there or something humiliating that I’ll have to cover up my entire life,” Camryn warned.

“Like I’d do that,” Kaley said hotly. She was making fast progress. The design was small, and it wouldn’t take her very long to complete.

Camryn cued the video again. It was clearly her favorite—the happy couple going at it in the privacy of their bedroom in the house they had rented from her. “Look at them, they’re gorgeous. Ouch!” she snapped. “Hey watch it back there.”

Kaley did not apologize. “You think you could watch something else?”

“Why? You seemed to enjoy it.”

“The first time. I don’t know how you can watch it over and over.”

Camryn reached behind her head and grabbed Kaley’s hand. “Enough! Keep whining and I’ll definitely grow tired of you.” She heard Kaley sniffle. “Hey, cut it out. There’s no reason for you to cry.”

“We’ll never have what they have. We’ll never—”

Camryn waited for Kaley to stop sobbing. She knew what her companion was alluding to: the secrecy Camryn demanded from her. Their life together had always been clandestine. “You know I can’t be seen with you, especially now while I’m in mourning for my brother.”

“I know, but . . .” Kaley lowered her head gloomily.

“I can fix that,” Camryn insisted. “I’ll fix it so that we won’t have to hide anymore.”

“How?” Kaley began to sob again. “I’m so tired of—”

Being my dirty little secret?
She patted Kaley’s hand. “Just have a little faith, okay?” She closed the cover of her iPad and put it down on the kitchen table.

Kaley nodded. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl. Now finish up back there, and then I’ll do you right after, all right?”

“Yes.” Kaley smiled weakly and then the buzz of the tattoo pen resumed as she quickly filled in the balance of the pattern. She stepped back to see if she had missed any spots.

“Done?” Camryn asked.

“Yes.”

“How does it look?”

“It came out really good. You want to see?”

Camryn turned her head and smiled. “I’m excited,” she said as a shiver ran through her. She grabbed a handheld mirror and walked into the bathroom. With her back to the bathroom mirror she looked in the handheld mirror to study Kaley’s handiwork. “It’s great!” she shouted.

Kaley walked hesitantly into the bathroom. “Do you really like it?”

“Like it?” Camryn said with a beaming smile. “Come here.” She threw her arms around Kaley and kissed her. “It’s perfect.”

The ticket collector tried not to show that he was staring at the two boys as they took each other’s hand and disappeared into the dark corridor that led to movie theater #6.

Camryn waited until they were both bathed in darkness before she turned to Kaley and snickered.

They wore absolutely no makeup. Camryn had gone shopping in the Gap just for the occasion and had purchased matching plaid woven shirts, cargo shorts, and baseball caps, which they wore with their hair stuffed under them. The only aspect of their uniforms that didn’t match was the color of their Converse sneakers. Camryn wore royal blue and Kaley wore hot pink. They took seats in the very last row of the balcony and kissed long and hard the moment they sat down.

“I’m so excited,” Kaley said as she got comfortable in her seat and put her feet up on the seatback in front of her. “I’ve never been a boy before. This is fun.”

Camryn snorted and then blew a fierce raspberry on Kaley’s cheek, so loud that several of the people in front of them turned around and stared at them accusatorily.

“Stop it.” Kaley giggled. “It tickles.”

“Just being a dude, my
brotha
,” Camryn said in a deep and manly voice. “Let’s talk about boobs and pick our noses.”

“Can’t,” Kaley laughed, “I’m too busy scratching my junk.”

“Shhh,” a woman in the audience said impatiently.

Camryn kicked the seatback in front of her and gave the woman the finger. She turned to Kaley. “Boys will be boys.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Kaley whispered excitedly.

“You’ve never seen this movie, have you?”

“
Boys Don’t Cry
? What’s it about?”

“You’ll see. It was my inspiration, one of them anyway. I love playing dress up.” She patted Kaley’s knee. “I told you I’d fix things.”

Kaley snuggled against Camryn. “I’m just so happy that we’re out together, out like everybody else.”

Out? She only thinks we’re out. We’re buried so deeply in the closet we can’t even find the goddamn doorknob.
She counterfeited a loving smile. “I told you. I told you to have a little faith.”

“I can’t wait to see the movie. You said it was one of your favorites.”

“Hilary Swank is amazing in it.”
I couldn’t have given a better performance myself.

~~~

The ending credits had just begun to roll when Camryn stood, lit a cigarette, and tossed something under one of the seats. She grabbed Kaley’s hand and rushed her toward the front of the theater.

“What the—” Kaley shrieked. “Why are we—”

“Get it in gear,” Camryn shouted as she ran toward the emergency exit. She pushed on the door next to the front curtain, turned around, and stared toward the back of the theater.

Kaley was out of breath. “What’s going on?”

“Remember that old bat who shushed us?”

Kaley nodded while she tried to catch her breath. “Yeah but—”

“Wait for it . . . wait for it,” she said with tension in her voice.

Kaley jumped as a rapid succession of small explosions filled the air. She clutched her chest. “Oh my God. What did you do?”

“Suck it,” Camryn yelled toward the back of the theater. She grabbed Kaley’s hand, and they raced out the door.

“What the hell was that?” Kaley asked as they raced through the parking lot toward their car, laughing and gasping for air.

“That old bitch. I lit her ass up with a pack of firecrackers. That’ll teach her for messing with me.”

Kaley’s face was aglow. “You’re so badass.”

“You haven’t seen anything.” Camryn boasted. “Bonnie and Clyde have got nothing on us  . . . just wait and see what I’ve got planned for us next.”

“The Cabernet Franc is delish,” Gus said as he swirled the remaining wine in his glass to help it breathe.
He was four glasses of wine into a tasting, and I could see that he was feeling a buzz. “Sure you don’t want to try some?”

“No. Enjoy. I’m the designated sober parent today.” Max was sound asleep in his stroller. I guess he wasn’t completely thrilled to be touring a winery. Tickle Me Elmo was more his thing. I missed most of the petting zoo experience, but Gus told me that Max thought it was dope. Fortunately I arrived in time to see the piggies and piglets. Some people think that unicorns are magical animals, but I think the pig is the most incredible beast of all. Who but the pig can eat absolutely anything and turn it into bacon? Feed it a corncob and it makes bacon. An apple core . . . bacon. Morels? Bacon. Who doesn’t love bacon? Jesus may have been able to turn water into wine, but bacon? He may have walked on water, but he never made bacon. No wonder the big bad wolf wanted to devour the three little pigs so badly.

“Not even a sip?” Gus implored.

“No. I’m really fine.” I didn’t feel like I needed wine or libation of any sort. I’d just received a call from Richard Tate. The crime lab had completed its testing of the cigarettes I’d found on Bill Alden’s property, and the smokes had indeed been spiked with cyanide. Alden had undeniably been puffing on cyanide-laced cigarettes. The question was for how long and who had done the dirty deed?

Hodgkin said the arsenic-laced cigarettes might have explained the high levels of cyanide in Alden’s liver, despite the fact that none was present in his stomach. There was no way of telling how long Alden had been smoking the tainted cigs, but the high liver concentration of cyanide suggested that it had been going on for quite a while.

Pulaski had been assigned to the Alden homicide investigation, which was convenient because he was now my sole contact with the Suffolk County Police Department, and I found him easy to work with. I had informed him of the conversation I’d overheard at Vito’s Pork Store. Sweet little Kaley . . . I just couldn’t imagine her messing with Alden’s cigarettes, but it was an angle Pulaski would definitely have to check out. Aside from being the neighborhood saint, she was also picking up Alden’s groceries. Pulaski would definitely have to question her. Unfortunately, the packaging did not contain any fingerprints other than Alden’s.

“You’re jazzed, aren’t you?” Gus said. “You’re such a bloodhound.” He had a dopey expression on his face. The wine had regressed him to a little-boy state. It’s a shame Max was asleep; they could’ve had a play date.

“I’m a little wired. I love it when hunches gel.”

“I can’t believe Kaley volunteered to babysit Max, and now she’s a person of interest in a homicide investigation.”

I thought about Kaley sitting on our sofa and bouncing Max on her knee. My stomach felt queasy. “Christ, you have to be so careful.”

The restroom door opened and Ma plowed forward.

“Feel any better?” I asked. She had tasted wine along with Gus.

“This stuff ran right through me,” she complained. “What’s in it?”

Gus looked a little vacuous. He shrugged. “Grapes?”

“I think this place is too close to the airport,” Ma commented.

“What does that mean?”

“I think the ground is saturated with jet fuel. It’s given me a headache,” she said, “and I never get headaches.”

Egad, there must be insidious forces at work.
“That’s too bad. I was going to buy you a couple of bottles.”

“At these prices? Bah!” she complained. “Save your money. I can buy two gallons of jug wine for what this place charges for one small bottle . . . and it won’t send me running to the bathroom.”

“We can hit another vineyard. Maybe you’ll like it better.”

“And pay for another tasting?
Madonna
,” she grumbled. “Stop wasting your money.”

“It’s okay, Ma. We’re on vacation. Live a little.” Ma was definitely the thrifty type. She was far from starving, but she did live on a fixed income. I tried to spoil her whenever I could, and if she didn’t like the wine . . . well, I’d find another way.

“I need to put something in my stomach,” Ma said. “Are the two of you ready to eat?”

“I could do some damage,” Gus said.

Ma and I had packed a picnic lunch: salad, sandwiches, and sides, the whole nine yards. There was also a birthday cake packed away for Gus. “Gus, why don’t you and Ma take Max and find a shady spot for us to eat? I’ll run back to the car and grab the goodies.”

“I’ll go—it’s kind of a hike,” Gus insisted. “I’ll pick up the cooler and catch up with you on the grounds.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, babe. I’ve got it.”

“Sure you can find the car? You look a little out of it.”

Gus patted his cheeks, pretending to wake himself up. “I’m good.”

“Okay, but no peeking into the cooler, got it?”

“Sure thing. See you in a few minutes.” He drained the last of his wine and headed off.

I wanted to change Max while we were close to a changing table, but he was still sound asleep and I didn’t want to poke the hornet’s nest. “Come on,” I said to Ma. “Let’s find a nice spot.”

“I think the women who crushed the grapes forgot to wash their feet,” Ma complained.

“Ha. I guess you really didn’t like it.”

“
Madonna,
twenty dollars for a few sips of wine. They’ve got a lot of nerve.”

“It’s more about the experience, Ma. It’s a nice day out. You’re not enjoying yourself?”

“Of course I’m enjoying myself—I’m with my family—but I could do without the overpriced wine.”

One of the clerks overheard Ma’s comment. I pretended not to know her. My mind was elsewhere as I pushed the stroller out of the tasting room to the back lawn. I was thinking about the party favor in the photograph and wondering if we’d be able to find the wedding or bridal shower it had come from. It wasn’t the kind of thing you could run through the crime computer, so Suffolk County PD was calling all of the hotels and catering halls on the East End. The venues had to be contacted one by one to obtain the names and phone numbers for whomever had booked the affair. If we were lucky enough to find the couple that gave away black and white cookies, we’d then have to track down the invitation list, if it still existed, to see if Alana Moore had been invited to that affair. It would be a long and tedious task, but it was all we had. Alana Moore had died more than a year ago, and in that amount of time, leads have a tendency to grow very cold.

“How about over here?” Ma asked as she pointed to a shady area under a broad oak tree.

“Perfect!” I had a queen-size sheet folded up in Max’s stroller. Ma helped me lay it flat, and we weighted down the corners with our shoes so that the wind wouldn’t blow it away. I plopped my fanny down on the sheet facing Max and inhaled deeply. The air was fragrant. It smelled
summery
. I watched Max sleeping, his head slack against his shoulder, and his innocent baby face so perfectly content.

Ma was watching him as well. “You did good, you and Gus. You made a beautiful little angel.”

“He is pretty cute, isn’t he?”

“Pretty cute?” Ma huffed. “He’s gorgeous! Of course, I expected nothing less with you and Gus as the parents.”

I blushed. “Thanks, Ma.”

She sat down next to me and put her arm around my shoulder. “You looked just like that when you were a baby. Who could’ve known you’d grow up to be such a terror?”

I looked at her accusatorily. “What the hell does that mean?”

She pulled me closer and kissed me on the forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.” I saw her throat begin to tighten. “I finally feel happy again.”

“Stop it,” I warned her. “You’re going to make me . . .”

Too late, we were both weeping, tears of sadness and tears of joy. It was almost three years since my father had passed away, and there had been times when I wasn’t sure either of us would make it.

“You gave me something to live for. You, your brother Ricky, Gus, and now the little one—I’ve got a family again. Your father would’ve been so proud of you, Stephanie. I just wish he were here to see it. Your father used to take me on picnics. He’d plan the trips, and I’d prepare the food. I’d fry chicken cutlets and buy fresh bread for sandwiches. We’d bring wine—not like the expensive crap this place sells. I have beautiful memories of those times.”

We put our faces together and watched Max sleep. He lifted his head for a moment, stuck his thumbs into his mouth and put his remaining fingers over his nose, making a completely adorable sleepy face.
“Aw.”
His weary head dropped, and he was once again in his favorite sleeping position. It seemed like a perfect moment, the kind that came along just a few times in a lifetime. I had my mother at my side, the sun in my face, and my husband . . . “Where the hell is Gus?”

“I didn’t want to say anything, but that Greek God husband of yours is mighty slow getting back here with the grub, and I’m
starving
.”

I stood and dusted myself off. “Watch Max. I’ll give Gus a hand. I stepped into my shoes and walked off in the direction we had parked. It was a beautiful summer afternoon, and the North Fork wineries were jammed. We left our SUV in one of the auxiliary parking fields, which was in God’s country, a dirt lot in the middle of nowhere. As I walked the path in search of Gus, the noise and tumult of the winery faded into the distance. It was slow going. The path was narrow and uneven, a plowed clearing through a wooded area. I had to navigate around fallen wood, rocks, and mud puddles.
No wonder it’s taking him so long.

I walked another few minutes before the parking field came into sight. Our SUV was parked in the row of cars adjacent to the woods, smack dab in the middle of the row. “Shoot.” I saw the tall roofline of the SUV, but I didn’t see Gus.
I must have missed him.
The idea that we had somehow missed each other, and that I’d have to drag my lazy ass back to the picnic spot made me feel mentally and physically weary. As I got closer, I saw that one of the doors was still open. “Gus?” I called out. “Babe?” The car was unoccupied. It wasn’t like Gus to leave a door open and the car not locked or alarmed. I looked all around the car—my detective’s instincts just kicked in on their own. The only idea that occurred to me was that Gus had been a little tipsy when he left us and must’ve forgotten to lock the SUV, but as I approached the back of the truck, I noticed that the liftgate was ajar. The back of the truck was a mess, and it only took a moment to see that the cooler was still where we had packed it. I looked all around in desperation as a foreboding feeling began to creep through my veins. And then I saw something that alarmed me. Gus’ cell phone was lying on the ground. As I got closer, I saw that the phone was awash with a spray of red dots.

I began to tremble.

His phone was covered with blood.