Dead on Ice (A Lovers in Crime Mystery) Read online

  Dead on Ice

  A Lovers in Crime Mystery

  By

  Lauren Carr

  Dead on Ice

  THIS BOOK IS AN UNCORRECTED PROOF

  All Rights Reserved © 2012 by Lauren Carr

  Published by Acorn Book Services for E-Publication

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

  For information call: 304-285-8205

  or Email: [email protected]

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  304-285-8205

  Printed in the United States of America

  To My Darling Duchess

  Long gone, but always in my heart.

  Dead on Ice

  Cast of Characters

  (in order of appearance)

  Kyle Bostwick: Angie Sullivan’s boyfriend. His last night with her is burned into his memory forever.

  Dr. Tad MacMillan: Small Town Chester’s home town doctor, Hancock County Medical Examiner. Former town drunk and womanizer. Now married to Jan.

  Angelina (Angie) Sullivan: Eighteen-year-old girl. Disappears June 3, 1978 after leaving Melody Lane Skating Rink in Hookstown, Pennsylvania.

  Brianne Davenport: Angie Sullivan’s best friend. Grows up to own Davenport Winery.

  Cheryl Smith: Mean girl. Prime suspect in Angie Sullivan’s disappearance.

  Ned Carter: Cheryl Smith’s former boyfriend. Grows up to become manager of Mountaineer Resort in Newell, West Virginia.

  Gail Hildebrand: Friend of Angie Sullivan. Daughter of Mildred and Ralph Hildebrand.

  Doris Sullivan: Angie’s older sister. Owner of Sullivan Stables.

  Albert Gordon: Criminal Defense Attorney. Elderly widower who lives alone on a small farm in Hookstown, Pennsylvania. Joshua Thornton’s distant cousin.

  Joshua Thornton: Hancock County Prosecuting Attorney. Former JAG lawyer. Widowed father of five. Now his children are growing up and leaving the nest, which allows him the freedom to fall in love with Detective Cameron Gates.

  Detective Cameron Gates: Pennsylvania State Police Homicide Detective. Joshua Thornton’s love interest.

  Irving: Cameron’s Maine Coon cat. Irving has issues. You’d have issues, too, if you looked like a skunk.

  Admiral: Joshua’s Irish Wolfhound-Great Dane dog. Irving’s friend.

  Mildred Hildebrand: Elderly church lady. Leader and organizer of everything.

  Donny Thornton: Joshua’s youngest son. Sixteen years old, last baby still left in the nest.

  Jan MacMillan: Tad MacMillan’s wife. They are expecting their first baby. Editor of the Review newspaper in East Liverpool, Ohio.

  Ralph Hildebrand: Mildred Hildebrand’s cheating husband.

  Peggy Lawson: Ralph Hildebrand’s office manager and mistress.

  Freddie: Brianne Davenport’s personal assistant.

  Humphrey Phoenix: Publisher of pornography magazine and movie producer. Discovered Cherry Pickens.

  Detective Harry Shannon: Original investigator in Angie Sullivan’s disappearance.

  Special Investigator William Walton: FBI Agent with Organized Crime Task Force.

  Randy Vincent: Cheryl Smith’s alibi

  Mona Vincent: Randy Vincent’s daughter.

  Lieutenant Miles Dugan: Chief of the homicide division. Detective Cameron Gates’ boss.

  Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.

  Albert Einstein

  Dead on Ice

  Prologue

  Saturday Night, June 3, 1978

  Melody Lane Skating Rink, Hookstown, Pennsylvania

  “For our last slow skate this evening,” the announcer’s voice boomed over the chatter of the young people filling every corner of the roller skating rink, “we will play ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ by the Bee Gees.”

  “For our last slow skate this evening,” the announcer’s voice boomed over the chatter of the young people filling every corner of the roller skating rink, “we will play ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ by the Bee Gees.”

  Situated at the entrance of the Hookstown Fairgrounds in the rural Pennsylvanian town, Melody Lane Skating Rink was the favorite hangout of teenagers in both Pennsylvania and West Virginia, which was across the state line a couple of miles down the road.

  The opening notes of the disco tune oozed through the speakers strategically placed in all corners of the rink. Couples who had separated during the course of the evening raced to reconnect in order to cozy up on the dance floor one last time before Melody Lane closed.

  Clopping around as if his feet were encased in cement blocks, Kyle Bostwick rubbed his sweaty palms on his blue jeans while craning his neck left to right, and up and down in search of a particular strawberry blonde. He was so anxious in his search that he failed to see the young man with wavy, brown hair making his way onto the rink with a buxom blonde clinging to his arm for balance.

  “Whoa.” Tad MacMillan clasped his arm to keep him from falling. “Watch where you’re going, Kyle. I’d hate to have to run you over for getting in my way.”

  “Sorry, Tad.” Kyle continued his search without concern.

  A few years older, Tad had been accepted to West Virginia University School of Medicine, which was quite a surprise to everyone who knew him and even some who didn’t. The scandalous party animal had never missed a party in his life. He knew every place in the Ohio Valley to score. “Are you looking for Angie?”

  “Yeah, I—”

  “I saw her over at the concession with Brianne Davenport.” The humor dropped from his face. “She looked really upset.”

  The blonde was now pulling Tad by both arms out onto the rink.

  “What about?” Kyle called over the railing to him.

  Captured in a bear hug by the blonde, Tad shrugged before calling over his shoulder. “I heard she had a run-in with Cheryl Smith.”

  Clinging to the railing, Kyle clomped as fast as his weighted feet could carry him to the other side of the rink and through the doorway to the concession stand. He arrived in time to see Angie being escorted by her best friend through what resembled a pack of hyenas yapping and barking jibes in her direction. “Whore! Slut!”

  With her white-blond hair that cascaded into full waves down to her shoulders, Cheryl Smith stood out as the leader of the pack. “You’re nothing but a fraud—pretending to be pure as the ivory snow when you’re nothing but a whoring bitch.”

  Her hair, the color of strawberries kissed by gold, hung limp in her face. The only friend she seemed to have left in the place had her arms draped around her shoulders. Both girls had turned in their skates and put their shoes back on.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Cheryl.” With her hair falling to her shoulders in one ebony wave, Brianne Davenport was able to dish it back. “You’re the bitch for spreading lies.”

  “I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Cheryl sneered, “She’s a slutty bitch like her mother. That’s where she gets it.” She tried to push past Brianne to get into Angie’s face. “Teach you to screw around with my boyfriend.”

  “I never screwed aroun
d with Ned,” Angie said in her defense. “Whoever told you that was lying.”

  Kyle rushed in to defend his date. “Leave her alone.”

  “What are you going to do if I don’t?”

  When Cheryl lunged at him, Kyle jumped back so fast that he lost his balance. Waving both arms in a vain effort to keep his balance made him resemble a bird trying to take flight; which caused the pack of hyenas to squeal with laughter.

  They continued to deliver cutting comments while Angie and Brianne struggled to help him to his feet. Humiliated by his failed attempt to defend his girl and the continued abuse after his fall, he gave up on the skates. With Angie’s help, he untied the laces and kicked them off.

  “What a man!” Cheryl’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she bent over the three of them.

  “What a bitch!” a strong voice retorted.

  Seeing another challenge, Cheryl rose up to her height.

  The pack backed off at the sight of her estranged boyfriend, Ned Carter, stepping into the room.

  “I thought we graduated from school last month,” Ned said. “Don’t you think it’s time to cast aside these schoolgirl games?”

  “Like you cast me aside?”

  With his wavy-blond hair and chiseled chest, Ned was the motive for her revenge. “Exactly.”

  “You’re not even going to deny it.” There was a hint of pain in her anger.

  “Nope.” He turned to Angie, Kyle, and Brianne. “Time to blow this joint.”

  “I’m not through with you, Angie!” Cheryl called after them.

  Damn it! This is not at all the way I had planned it—Not at all.

  Caught in the stampede of customers turning in their skates, Kyle lost sight of his date once again. Nervously, he fingered the small felt box in his pants pocket.

  There was no need to worry over that. After all, they had come to the skating rink together in her car.

  All is not lost. Since Plan A didn’t work out, we’ll go for Plan B. We’ll stop at the river on our way home. Our place. Yes, that will be even better. I’ll ask her when we’re alone.

  Outside, he found Ned and Brianne still comforting Angie.

  “Would you like us to drive you home?” Brianne asked.

  “That’s okay,” Kyle yelled while jogging across the gravel parking lot in his sock feet. He hopped on one foot while slipping on his loafers. “I’ll take care of Angie.”

  Brianne cast an eye at her.

  Angie nodded at her.

  The exchange between the friends was broken when another girl who had come out of the skating rink stepped between them. “I just wanted to give you a hug,” Gail Hildebrand said in a teary voice. Hugging a girl with a voluptuous figure was like hugging a soft loveable teddy bear. “Nothing Cheryl said about you and your mom is true. I don’t believe it one bit.” The white roller skates hanging from her shoulder by the laces swung to hit Kyle in the arm.

  Angie hung her head to hide the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  When the two girls hugged again, their reddish-blond locks blended to give the appearance of one mane. “I love you, Angie.” Even though the teenaged girl was a couple of years younger than those in the group, the strength in her words held a tone of maturity beyond her years.

  “Me, too.”

  They clung to each other’s hands when Gail pulled away to go rejoin her friends piling into a car on the other side of the parking lot.

  “How about if we come home with you?” Brianne offered again.

  “Angie and I have plans,” Kyle insisted.

  “Are you sure?” Ned asked. “After what happened, I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”

  “She won’t be alone,” Kyle said. “She’ll be with me.”

  “Cheryl’s ruthless,” Ned warned them. “If she says she’s not through, then she isn’t.”

  Angie shrugged her shoulders and forced a smile across her trembling lips. “School’s out, and it’s a whole new world—there’s more to life than South Side High School and Cheryl’s scores to settle. I just don’t know where she got the idea that I was fooling around with you, Ned.”

  “Me, neither.” Brianne flipped her black locks back over her shoulder. “Who knows where Cheryl comes up with these crazy ideas? But, as right as you may be, that’s not going to be any comfort if she or her friends corner you again.”

  Ned rested his hand on the door handle. “Maybe I should—”

  Wiping Ned’s hand off the door handle, Kyle slipped in-between them and his date. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll take care of Angie.”

  She responded by wrapping her arm around his waist. Her kiss warmed his face. “That’s right. You’ve always been my best friend—through good times and bad, thick and thin.”

  He added, “Better or worse . . . richer or poorer.”

  Brianne and Ned cast glances in each other’s directions before stepping back to allow Kyle to open the car door for her.

  Ned waited until they were pulling out of the parking lot before slipping his arm around Brianne. “Who would have guessed?”

  Sucking in her breath, Brianne clasped his arm when she saw Cheryl’s old Camaro pull out onto Main Street to fall in behind Angie’s Mustang.

  Next Morning

  “Angie, we’re going to be late for church.” Doris Sullivan dabbed an extra layer of makeup under her eyes where she saw a new wrinkle appear. Standing up straight, she studied her gaunt features in the bathroom mirror. Who are you trying to kid, Doris? You’re a farmer, not a glamour puss. Hang it up.

  As if in agreement with her assessment, a horse whinnied from out in the pasture. She cast a grin out the window at the half-dozen Thoroughbreds grazing in the field of her horse farm.

  Nope, you weren’t a bathing beauty when you were seventeen years old, and you’re not one now that you’re thirty-five.

  After putting a touch of lipstick onto her lips, she tossed the stick into her purse and stepped out into the hallway. “Angie, wake up.” She tapped on the bedroom door on her way to the staircase. “We’re going to be late.”

  When the phone rang downstairs in the living room, she quickened her pace.

  “Hello, Mrs. Sullivan,” Kyle Bostwick greeted her across the line. “Is Angie up yet? I wanted to say good morning.”

  “No,” she replied, “she’s not up yet. How late were you two out last night? She still wasn’t home when I went to sleep.”

  “We were out late.”

  She didn’t like the chuckle that came across the line. “How late?”

  There was silence at the other end of the line before Kyle said, “I’ll let her tell you what happened last night.”

  Concerned by the tone of his voice, and that it was something that Kyle didn’t want to tell her himself, Doris put down the phone and climbed the stairs to Angie’s room. When there was no reply to her knock, she opened the door.

  Her hands flew to her mouth as if to catch her heart that threatened to leap up out of her throat when she saw that the bed had not been slept in.

  Angelina Sullivan was missing.

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  Hancock County Courthouse, New Cumberland, West Virginia

  “Your honor, at this time, the defense would like to request that the charges against my client for driving while under the influence be dismissed.” Albert Gordon reached up to present a report to the judge and stepped over to the prosecution table to hand a copy to the prosecuting attorney, Joshua Thornton. “As evidenced by this report, you will find that the breathalyzer that the officer had used to conduct the test on my client was sent for repairs the very day after the defendant was arrested. If the machine was defective, then this calls into question the validity of the evidence against my client.”

  Trying not to frown, Joshua read the information he held in his hands.

  The facts were before him in black and white. The same machine used to gauge the blood alcohol level of the young man sitting at
the defense table had been sent in for repairs hours later.

  This is not good.

  When he cast a sidelong glance at the arresting officer, Joshua saw the sheriff deputy’s cheeks redden before he looked down at his hands in his lap.

  Brad Hendrix had already been convicted twice for driving while under the influence. This time, a nursing student was seriously injured when he rammed his truck into her car. Prosecutor Joshua Thornton wanted this third conviction. He wanted this mandatory jail time. Most importantly, Joshua wanted Hendrix off the roads before he killed someone.

  Albert Gordon’s illustrious career as a defense attorney had made him a legend in the tri-state area. Joshua had only to imagine how his distant cousin, Albert, had managed to learn about the machine’s malfunction that warranted it being repaired after Brad Hendrix’s arrest.

  The judge took off her glasses. “Mr. Thornton, I’ll hear your objections now.”

  “Your honor,” Joshua said, “the breathalyzer was used after the police pulled the defendant out of the lake in which he had driven his truck—after driving it off the road and across three back yards while evading arrest. This is his third arrest for driving while under the influence—”

  “Objection,” Albert shouted.

  Before the judge could sustain the objection, Joshua apologized for raising Hendrix’s past convictions. Albert had them excluded from the evidence. “Your honor, the defendant was driving recklessly. He’s a hazard and—”

  “Your honor,” Albert interjected, “the fact is that the breathalyzer would never have gone in for repair if it had been working properly, in which case the arresting officers shouldn’t have used it, and the results should never have been entered into evidence. The reading from that test is inadmissible, and without a proper gauge of my client’s alcohol content, then the charge should be dropped.”

  “Mr. Gordon is right,” the judge said to Joshua. “The DUI charge is dropped.”

  Joshua tried to not look in the direction of the defendant’s table. He was afraid that he’d slap Hendrix’s smirk right off his face.