Midnight Caller (3 page)

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Authors: Diane Burke

BOOK: Midnight Caller
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The sergeant tossed his chewed yellow pencil on the table. “It’s worth a hard look. If there’s a connection between
Cynthia Mayors and the other two victims, I want to know it before she becomes victim number three. This isn’t New York or Chicago. If a woman’s body shows up here, we’re probably looking at a domestic dispute, a drug overdose or a bar pickup gone bad. Two women disappear in this community and then turn up dead? That raises the hair on the back of my neck. A third woman vanishes? I gotta tell you I’m wondering if Ted Bundy’s younger brother just moved to town.”

“We hear you, Sarge. We’ll get on it right away,” said Winters.

Tony picked up the folder and carried it back to his desk. Yesterday’s picnic had been a waste of his time. He should have been out with the other men canvassing the neighborhood, conducting interviews.

The image of a freckle-faced boy and a mom with auburn hair popped into his mind. He had to admit it hadn’t been a total waste of time. He might have the chance to do something special for a handicapped kid. That made him feel good.

He loved kids but decided never to have a family of his own. Choosing to be a cop was a twenty-four-hour, seven-day-a-week, dangerous job. He didn’t want to subject a child to the possibility of growing up without a father. Been there, knew that pain. So he fed the occasional paternal urge with his sister’s kids or helped out with the church youth group.

Besides, what kind of father would he be? He’d never had a role model. Just like that kid he’d met today. No uncles. Not even an older brother. His mom didn’t bring dates home to meet him ’til his late teens. It had been just him, his mom and his sister. What if he didn’t measure up? He saw the results of bad parenting every day on his job. Nope. No kids for him.

Tony dragged his hand over his face. He needed to buckle down and work. But on what? They didn’t have one lead that hadn’t been investigated. As much as it sickened him, he had
to acknowledge they’d hit a brick wall and couldn’t do another thing but retrace their steps until the killer made another move.

He flipped open the folder and studied the picture. This woman was somebody’s wife, somebody’s mother, somebody’s friend. Experience told him she was probably already dead. Sarge was right. Three was a very unsettling number.

TWO

E
rin tugged the business card out of her pocket.

“I see you still haven’t thrown that away.” Tess plopped her ample girth onto a nearby kitchen chair. “Must be you are at least considering the lad’s offer.” The older woman squinted. “What are you doing in here, anyway? Cleaning the kitchen is my job.”

“I thought I’d give you a hand.”

“You know what they say about two cooks in a kitchen…”

Erin smiled. Tess was notorious for spouting the first line of famous sayings and never finishing them. One of these days, she was going to put her on the spot and see if she even knew the other halves of those sayings.

“So?” Her aunt peered across eyeglasses riding low on her nose and waited.

“I have no intention of taking his offer seriously.”

“Is that so?” Tess pretended to brush nonexisting crumbs off the table into her upturned palm. “Even though you went through the trouble to find out he is, indeed, an honorable law enforcement officer?”

Erin ignored her.

“Even though Jack has his heart set on riding the boys’ bus? Even though the gentleman was nice enough to offer to ride
with him? You’re just not going to do it. Makes sense to me. Sure it does.”

Erin sighed. “You don’t understand. I can’t ask a total stranger to play Jack’s dad. It’s humiliating.”

“First of all, lass, he’s not a stranger. He’s a police officer from our very own community who has a kind heart for a handicapped boy. And you’re not asking him to play Jack’s dad. Just to accompany him on the bus. Besides, he volunteered.”

“We’ve been over this a hundred times. No. Now that’s the end of it.”

“Harrumph. That’s stubbornness and pride speaking.”

“Well, it must be an inherited trait.” She shot Tess her best “don’t go there” glare.

The older woman pushed back her chair and stood. “Maybe you ought to pray on it. I know Jack’s been praying every night. Did you ever stop to think that maybe the good Lord put this police officer in your path as an answer to Jack’s prayers?”

Silence stretched between them.

“I’m going to check on the boy. It’s obvious I’m talking to a brick wall in here.”

Erin shook her head. What was she going to do with Tess? The sixty-five-year-old had a bad habit of pushing too hard in things that were just none of her business and Erin hadn’t found a loving way to discourage the meddling.

Walking over to the trash, she tossed the card in the bin.
There. That’s where you belong. You’ve caused enough trouble in this house
. She stared for several minutes at the small white rectangle lying atop discarded lettuce. Instead of a business card, she saw dark eyes framed by crinkled smile lines. She felt the soft caress of his breath against her skin. She smelled the musky, masculine scent of him.

Shaking her head to rid herself of those nonproductive thoughts another image slipped into her consciousness, the pleading eyes of her son. Before she could change her mind, she snatched the card back up, swiped it on the leg of her jeans to wipe off any lettuce residue and shoved it back into her pocket.

Erin had finished sweeping the floor when Tess reentered the room. “Everything, okay?”

Tess chuckled. “The lad’s built a small city in the living room with those plastic blocks. Maybe he’ll be an architect when he grows up.”

Before she could respond, the phone rang. She snatched up the receiver. “Hello?” Erin paused for several seconds before repeating her greeting. “Hello, is anybody there?” She strained to listen and was certain she heard breathing. Someone was there. Why didn’t they answer? Her mouth twisted in a frown and she hung up.

“Who was it?” Tess asked.

“Nobody. Probably a wrong number.”

“Funny, they can’t dial the number they want, but they can remember our number long enough to call it a dozen times by mistake.”

Erin poured herself a mug of freshly brewed coffee and joined her aunt at the kitchen table. “Maybe it’s a telemarketer. These days a computer dials the number and connects to a salesperson only after you answer. It takes a bit for the connection to go through.”

“Uh-huh.” Tess pushed her bifocals down her nose and stared intently at her niece. “And I suppose you’re wearing your worry face because you’re afraid you might be missin’ the sale of a lifetime?”

Erin chuckled and sipped her coffee.

“I might be getting a little deaf, lass, but I’m not blind.
Someone’s been calling this house at odd hours for the past four days and I never see you talking to anyone. What’s going on?”

Erin shrugged. “Honestly, Tess, I haven’t a clue. I answer. They don’t. End of story.”

“Don’t tell me ‘end of story.’ Did you write down the number from your caller ID?”

“There isn’t one. It just reads unknown name, unknown number.”

“You need to find out who it is.”

She patted the older woman’s hand. “Don’t get in a dither. It’s just some teenagers playing a prank. They’ll get tired and move on to someone else.” She carried her empty mug to the sink.

“Erin O’Malley, you sit back down here and listen to me.”

Erin, surprised at her aunt’s tone of voice, did as she was told.

“We’re not livin’ in the world I grew up in.” Tess waggled a finger at her. “Used to be you left your doors unlocked. You knew your neighbors and everybody watched out for everybody else. Today it’s a world of strangers. Nobody even takes the time to know the person livin’ right next door. There are more bad guys and less of a way to know who the bad guys are until it’s too late.”

The animation and emotion in her aunt’s face surprised Erin. “I never knew you had such strong feelings about this.”

“Why shouldn’t I? Age blesses one with wisdom, lass. We are two single women living alone with a handicapped child to protect. You need to be more concerned when something strange happens. How can you protect yourself, or us, if you don’t keep your eyes open to what’s going on around you? And what’s going on around you right now isn’t right. You need to fix it.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Erin asked, suddenly
suspicious of her aunt’s true motives. “Call a cop? Or did you have a particular detective in mind?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tess ducked her head.

Erin almost laughed out loud at the expression on her aunt’s face when she realized her ploy hadn’t worked.

“Shame on you for trying to scare me,” Erin said.

“I’m speakin’ the truth,” Tess insisted. “If you used that brain of yours, you’d be smart enough to be scared.” Tess carried her own empty mug to the sink. “I don’t see how it could hurt to ask the detective’s advice. He’s expecting you to call him anyway. So do it.” She glanced over her shoulder. “And just so you know, I meant every word I said.”

“You’re right. I need to report the calls,” Erin said. “I would have called the police before now, but I really thought it was Billy Sanders. Remember last year when he harassed everybody in the neighborhood for days with heavy breathing and giggles?”

Tess nodded as she started washing her cup. “That boy needed a good swift kick in his…”

“Anyway,” Erin said. “I thought he was doing it again, so I went over to see his dad this morning.”

“Really? How’d that go?”

“It’s not Billy. His dad tells me the boy has straightened out. Joined a church youth group. Matter of fact, he was away this past weekend at a Christian teen camp.”

“Good for him,” Tess said. “So what are you going to do about the calls?”

Erin crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her aunt’s back, resting her cheek against the back of her head. “I am going to call that ‘fine, young detective’ you keep pushing down my throat. But you better know, old woman,
that I’m on to you and your sneaky ways. I already made up my mind to call the detective. Calls or no calls. I want Jack to ride the bus with the boys.”

Tess squealed, turned around and pulled Erin to her despite the soap suds on her hands. “I knew you’d come to your senses. It just takes time for reasonable thoughts to get through your thick, Irish skull.”

“I love you, too, Tess.”

 

Tony clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. Ever since he got the call about a corpse discarded in the tall grass by the Tomoka River, he had been dreading this moment. He nodded to Winters and Spence, who had just pulled up. Telltale yellow tape roped off the crime scene. The forensics team was already at work, taking pictures of the body and carefully gathering evidence.

“Hey, Keith.” Tony acknowledged the motorcycle cop who had been first on the scene. “What do we have?” Spence and Winters drew up behind him.

“I was heading north on Airport Road when these two kids ran out of the woods, screaming to high heaven and white as sheets. This park has a reputation as a good fishing spot. Seems they got more than they expected. They went into the brush close to the river and, literally, fell over the corpse.” Keith nodded toward the boys. “I got them calmed down. They’re waiting over there for their parents to pick them up.”

Two boys, about eleven or twelve, stole glances in their direction. The shuffling of their feet and the slight green tinge to their skin attested to the fact they wanted to be as far away from the park as possible.

Winters said, “We’ve got this,” and he and Spence headed toward the boys.

Tony ducked under the yellow tape and gingerly approached the medical examiner.

“Hi, Sally.” It never ceased to surprise him how a sweet, grandmotherly looking woman would choose to spend her days surrounded by corpses. Go figure.

“Tony.”

“What can you tell me?” He squatted beside her.

“Not much yet. Looks like she was killed elsewhere and dumped here. I’ll have more specifics for you after I get the body back to the morgue. She fought back. Should get some good DNA samples from under her nails.”

Tony glanced at the corpse and knew two things instantly. The body’s injuries matched the visible injuries of the other two corpses. And Cynthia Mayors, the woman who had disappeared from the hospital after her Friday shift, was no longer missing.

Several hours later Tony trudged into the office, tired, hungry and with only one thing on his mind: finishing his report and going home.

“Hey, Tony,” the desk clerk yelled. “A woman called a couple of hours ago. Left her name and number. Said something about meeting you at the Easter picnic and wanted to talk to you about a problem she’s having.”

As the clerk’s voice rang through the room, Tony grimaced. He glanced at his fellow officers. Here we go. Round three for pranks and jokes. But right now he didn’t care. He had hoped she’d call. He didn’t like to think she would let her kid down. He took the message from the clerk and headed back to his desk. At least he’d be able to make one little boy’s life a little happier. He wished he could have been in time to save Cynthia Mayors’s children from the world of hurt he just delivered to them.

 

“I’ll get it!” Tess’s voice drifted down the hallway after the doorbell rang.

Erin retested the water temperature for Jack’s bath, then stepped aside. Jack held on to the safety rail and lowered himself onto the nonskid mat. Erin placed clean pajamas and a towel on the toilet seat cover and made sure the walker was placed safely within reach. “I’ll have hot chocolate waiting for you when you’re done.”

Jack, already covered head to toe with soap bubbles, grinned at his mother. “With whipped cream and marshmallows, please. And can I have one of those chocolate chip cookies you hide over the ’frigerator?”

Erin chuckled. “We’ll see. Make sure you clean behind your ears.”

She walked down the hall and entered the kitchen. “Who was at the—” A rush of pleasure raced through her body at the sight of the man standing beside her aunt. Dressed in a dark gray suit, white shirt and patterned tie, he was even more handsome than when she’d seen him at the park. And those eyes—should be a crime walking around looking so good.

“Hi. Remember me? I didn’t bring my rabbit with me. Hope you don’t mind,” he said.

Her aunt chuckled and busied herself wiping the counter.

“Of course, I remember you, Detective Marino. Please, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Call me Tony.” He slipped off his jacket and loosened his tie. “Hope you don’t mind. It’s been a long day.”

“Not at all. I know how you feel. The ER can be stressful at times, too.”

“You work at the hospital?” Tony raised an eyebrow and wondered if she knew Cynthia Mayors.

“I’m a nurse in the emergency room,” she said with a nod.

“Would you be likin’ a spot of coffee, lad?” Tess asked.

Tony acknowledged her. “That I would, ma’am.”

“Call me Tess. You’ve already met my niece, Erin.”

Tony extended his hand to Erin. He smiled broadly, his teeth even and white against his tanned skin. “Nice to meet you again, Ms. Erin O’Malley.”

There it was. Gorgeous smile. Eyes so captivating it was difficult to look away. Because of her instant attraction to him, Erin expected the familiar goose bumps when her hand slid into his grasp, but she wasn’t prepared for this strong pull of emotion and found it surprising. Even a bit confusing. What was the matter with her? He was a cop, remember? Cop, as in don’t-even-think-about-it cop. Not to mention the fact that he was a hunk. In her experience the words
male
and
hunk
in the same sentence always spelled trouble, always caused pain.

Tony released her hand. His smile reached his eyes, tiny lines crinkling at the corners just as she remembered.

“I’m glad you called. What time do you want me to pick the two of you up?”

“I…I’m not sure,” she stammered. “The bus leaves at eight-thirty.”

“I’ll be here at seven-thirty. That should give us plenty of time to load anything Jack needs and get there with time to spare.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tess answered for Erin and placed mugs in the middle of the table. She picked one up and handed it to Tony. “See if this nonalcoholic Irish coffee doesn’t cure what ails you.”

“Nonalcoholic Irish coffee? Isn’t that an oxymoron?” Tony lifted the cup and sipped the dark liquid. Feigning an Irish brogue, he said, “I just had meself a drop of pure magic.”

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