Beauty to Die For and Other Mystery Shorts Page 4

  “Urgh!” Lieutenant Dugan cursed. “Cameron, you’re on vacation. What are you doing digging up old—and closed—murder cases while you’re on vacation. You told me that you were going to spend the next two weeks having sex-sex-sex with your new husband.”

  “Yeah,” Cameron replied. “But there’s only so many positions that you can try and then it gets old. It was either dig up an old case or get kinky, and Josh and I are too old to get kinky.”

  She smiled when she saw Joshua’s head snap in her direction. He shot her a playful glare. “Who’s too old to get kinky?” he asked her in a low voice.

  Cameron’s boss was asking, “What am I supposed to tell my CO in Harrisburg?”

  “The truth,” she replied. “I’m on vacation and you have no control over what I do on my vacation.”

  The police lieutenant was still cursing when she hung up.

  “I guess we’ve ruffled a few feathers.” Joshua gestured for her to join him over at his laptop.

  “More than a few.” She sat on the corner of the desk. “Did you find anything interesting on that?”

  “I’m opening it up now.”

  They studied the names of the files on the removable disk drive. Most were photographs of people, many famous, some not-so-famous. Many were couples and groups smiling at the camera.

  “Not only do we have pictures, but we have audio, too.” He pointed at the six audio files at the bottom of the list.

  “There’s also a pdf file.” Cameron grabbed the mouse from his hand to click on the file entitled: The Lady in the Well Remains Unidentified

  The article went on to report that the skeletal remains of a woman found at the bottom of an abandoned well in the Allegheny Mountains in the spring of 1998 still remained unidentified. An anthropologist and artist, using the skull had done a drawing of what the woman, estimated to be in her late teens to early twenties, would have looked like. Anyone with any information that could help to identify the woman and solve her death would be appreciated. The article contained a copy of the drawing.

  The drawing reminding him of his older daughter, Joshua pushed the thought of Tracy ending up dead at such a young age from his mind.

  Each of the audio files was named and had a date attached to them. All of the dates were for Labor Day 2001. Ronald Pryor, husband of the candidate for United States Senator from Pennsylvania. Another was Rachel Burke, former Miss Pennsylvania.

  The name of one file jumped out at them: Labor Day Cat Fight Do Not Destroy

  “The night before Rachel Burke was murdered.” Joshua clicked on the play button.

  The audio file was huge. It was sixty minutes long. For over a half hour, Angela interviewed Ronald Pryor about his days as a University of Pittsburgh quarterback who had taken his team the Rose Bowl only to suffer a career ending injury the last two minutes of the game. It was a moment that changed his whole life. From there, he went on to become one of the state’s wealthiest real estate tycoons building mall after mall throughout the tri-state area.

  “Where’s the cat fight?” Cameron sighed.

  As soon as the words came from her mouth, it started.

  “Don’t you miss the roar of the crowds?” Angela asked.

  “Not as much as I love counting my money.”

  They both laughed.

  In the background, there was the sound of multiple women’s voices becoming louder as they came into the room.

  Joshua turned up the volume.

  “There you are!” sang out a feminine voice that they didn’t recognize. “Haven’t you bored her long enough with your tired old war stories?”

  “He’s not boring me at all,” said Angela.

  The woman’s voice warned her, “Believe me, sweetheart, after the excitement of being with Ronald Pryor wears off, then you’ll see how truly exciting he really is.”

  “I think that’s Senator Pryor,” Cameron said. “I recognize her haughty attitude.”

  “You do that,” Linda said in response to Ronald’s announcement that he was going into the other room, “while I have a few words with your pussy cat.”

  “Now, Linda, ...” Ronald said with a plea in his voice.

  “Go help with the barbecue.” It was a direct order.

  There was the sound of people leaving the room.

  “You’re a little hard on him, don’t you think?”

  In a whisper, Cameron asked, “Who is that?”

  “That’s Susan Burke,” Joshua answered. “I think. It sounds like her, but it could her twin.”

  While they were speaking, Linda had gone into a dissertation of her accomplishments at his side and in the community that had won her the spot of star in her marriage. “If it wasn’t for me, Ronald would’ve ended up like all the other has-been college football stars that never learned how to cope once they’ve left the spotlight.”

  It didn’t seem possible, but her tone turned uglier. “I have not worked so long and so hard to have some little bitch steal my husband from me!”

  They heard the scraping of a chair across the room.

  “What are you talking about?” The voice that sounded like Susan asked helplessly.

  “Ronald told me all about your little bike ride!” She scoffed. “Oh, he tried to play it down as just an accident when I asked him how you hurt your arm riding a bicycle, but then—in case you haven’t noticed it already, my husband is a wimp. He breaks under any pressure—But he’s still my husband and I won’t have my political career ruined by a cheating husband and a back stabbing friend! Do you understand me? Tell me that you understand me!”

  There was a long pause before she responded in a harsh whisper, “Or what? I’m going to end up like Charley.”

  There was the sound of a scuffle that increased in volume until it sounded like they were on top of the recorder.

  A deep forceful voice that reeked of fury caused a rumble in Linda’s voice. “Since you know what I’m capable of, then I suggest you keep your mouth shut about Charley. Have you forgotten the blood oath we took? Never to speak that name again.”

  “Cool it.” a voice that sounded so similar to Susan that Joshua and Cameron looked at each other in puzzlement. “We’re all friends here. We’re in this together.”

  “Is that Susan?” Cameron whispered, to which Joshua shushed her.

  There was the sound of a door opening and a loud voice calling out. “Hey, I thought we were going to eat? Where’s the margaritas?”

  Congeniality returned to Linda’s tone with the speed of a flipped switch. “Oh, you know how we girls can be. We get to talking and forget what we were doing. Rachel, where’s the tequila?”

  Rachel answered, “I’ve got the tequila right—”

  Click.

  The recording ended with the tape running out.

  “Obviously, Rachel hurt her arm while doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing with Ronald,” Joshua said.

  “Who’s Charley?” Cameron asked.

  “I don’t know,” Joshua said, “but I have a good idea of who to start asking.”

  With its sprawling homes and landscaped lawns along quiet streets, Bethel Park was a Pittsburgh suburb reserved for those in the upper income brackets

  Joshua climbed out of his sports car to observe the house with the in-ground pool in back on his way to the front door. The garage door was open. A Range Rover filled one of the stalls of the two-car garage. A Mustang convertible filled the other. Tyler was loading two suitcases in the back of the SUV.

  “Going on vacation?” Joshua asked.

  When he saw that it was Joshua, Tyler smiled. “Kind of. I’m going to spend a couple of weeks with my grandparents. They live in Arizona.”

  Susan came rushing out of the house. When she saw Joshua, her sunglasses fell off her face. “What’s going on?”

  “I had some more questions.”

  “I wish you had called first.” She glanced in the direction of her son. “Tyler, get the rest of your bags, please whil
e I talk to Mr. Thornton.”

  Seeing his mother’s displeasure, Tyler’s cordial nature dissolved. Assuring his mother that he would be right back, he went inside.

  “What’s this about?” she demanded to know once her son was out of earshot. “I told you everything that I know about Rachel.”

  “You didn’t tell me that Linda Pryor, now Senator Pryor, threatened Rachel the night before she was murdered because she discovered she was having an affair with her husband while she was campaigning for senator.”

  After a glance over her shoulder toward the living room window where they saw her son peering out, Susan led him into the garage out of eyesight.

  When she crossed her arms over her chest, her full breasts bulged up to spill over them. “I’ve known Linda Pryor for forty years. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did kill Rachel. She’s ruthless about getting what she wants. Do I know for a fact that she did kill Rachel? No. I made it a point to stay as far away from her as possible, especially since my sister’s murder.” She sighed. “It’s too painful.”

  Not wanting to give away his possession of the recording, he said, “We have a witness who overheard an argument between you, Rachel, and Linda. Rachel brought up someone named Charley and Linda ordered her to never mention that name again.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She fell back against the Mustang.

  “Who’s Charley?” Joshua asked.

  He waited while Susan blinked the tears from her eyes. She opened and closed her mouth several times before responding. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” Joshua replied. “You were there while Linda Pryor threatened your sister, your twin sister’s life about breathing his name only one day before she ends up dead and you don’t know who he is?”

  “That was the first I ever heard about any of it. I’d never heard anything about it until that night.” Susan looked over at Joshua for help. “I didn’t want to know what all that was about. It was like you said. Linda told Rachel that if she ever mentioned Charley’s name that—then less than twenty-four hours later, Rachel’s dead. Like you think I’m going to be asking questions after that? I got the hell away from Linda and never breathed one word about it ever again.”

  Joshua stared at her. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  She pointed at the open garage door. “I think you should leave.”

  He allowed her to usher him out to the driveway. “By the way, have you have been up in the Allegheny Mountains?”

  “Everyone around here has been up there.” Susan glared at him. “Why do you ask?”

  “I was just wondering,” he replied. “As deep and thick as the woods are in those mountains, you can dump a body and no one would find it for years.”

  Her lips, caked with pink lipstick, quivered. “Good-bye, Mr. Thornton. Next time you have questions, I think you should call my lawyer.”

  It was time for lunch when Joshua Thornton pulled off the Pennsylvania turnpike to take him and Cameron to the University of Pittsburgh.

  “She’s lying,” he told Cameron the dozenth time since they had left for their road trip. “She looked me straight in the eye and lied.”

  Cameron agreed. “There’s no way Linda Pryor would have mentioned Charley with her in the room if she wasn’t aware of what she was talking about.”

  Since the University of Pittsburgh was where the three women had met and created a lifelong bond, it was the logical place to start toward uncovering their secret.

  The state park police at Allegheny National Forest was of little help to fill in the blanks about the unidentified body from the newspaper article. The officer Cameron spoke to on the phone was unfamiliar with the case. After leaving her on hold so long that she thought she had been forgotten, the officer returned to say that the case was still open. They believed Jane Doe had been killed by a blow to the head and there was no record in the case file about how long ago she would have been killed.

  “Does the ME still have the remains?” Cameron asked.

  “Sure,” the officer replied.

  “Then you must have the DNA or dental records for comparison if that body is the remains of who I think she is,” she said.

  “Who do you think she is?” the officer asked.

  “I have no idea,” Cameron replied.

  On the way up the twisting road toward the University of Pittsburgh’s campus, Joshua noticed a two-story red brick colonial home with green shutters that reminded him of his uncle’s farmhouse in Chester. A painted sign in the front yard read: Halston Center for Clinical Counseling. Below the phone number and website, in italic font, it read: Students Welcome.

  Joshua drove on past the building to the library on the other side of the campus.

  The librarian at the university library appeared to have been up too late the night before. Through sleepy eyes and lines on her face, she almost glared at Cameron for interrupting her zombie nap to ask where the school yearbooks were shelved. With a grunt, she pointed to a corner as if to order her and Joshua to detention for bothering her.

  Susan, Linda, and Rachel had entered the university in 1993. They graduated in 1997. The college yearbooks for that period seemed like a worthwhile place to search for Charley or Charlene.

  Joshua found Charley in the third yearbook: 1993. It helped that Ronald Pryor had been University of Pittsburgh’s star quarterback. In the 1993 yearbook, he found Ronald’s picture with a brunette with long wavy hair. The picture appeared to have been taken in a radio station where Charley Halston, a communications major, was interviewing the athlete for the university radio station.

  “Charley Halston?” Joshua asked Cameron. “I wonder if that’s the same Halstons that own that clinic we passed on the way here.”

  On her mini-laptop, Cameron connected to the free wi-fi to do a search of the Associated Press website for the name Charlene Halston in news items published during the years 1994-1998.

  A moment later, the site came up with a handful of articles. The first in the list was dated October 13, 1996: Co-ed Disappears After Univ of Pitt-NYU Football Game

  The article went on to report that Charlene Halston, a University of Pittsburgh junior, disappeared in Syracuse, New York. Reportedly, the twenty-one year old, brunette, had gotten separated from her friends while clubbing after the game. Hours later, when her friends were unable to locate her, they contacted the police.

  “Charley is a missing persons,” Cameron said.

  Joshua suggested, “Maybe she was found in the Allegheny Mountains.”

  “Based on the tone in Rachel’s voice on that recording,” Cameron said, “they know what happened to her.”

  Joshua slowly shook his head. “That’s what we assume. Nowhere on that recording does it say that they killed her.”

  “Well, someone certainly killed Rachel Burke,” she said.

  “A defense attorney can argue that the meaning in what Rachel said, ‘end up like Charley’ could be to end up missing,” he said.

  “Spoken like a lawyer.”

  “Do you like arresting people only to have them get off?” he asked. “Keep reading.”

  None of the articles that had come up in the search named the friends that Charley Halston had been traveling with.

  “Syracuse, New York, is north of Allegheny National Forest,” she said. “They would have gone right past, if not through, the Allegheny National Forest. Angela Jarvis must have suspected that Charley Halston was the Jane Doe whose body was found in the mountains.”

  Joshua stood up. “We need to find out who Charley’s friends were.”

  “If those friends were the ones who killed her,” Cameron said, “Charley didn’t need any enemies.”

  “When did I get so old?” Cameron whispered to Joshua.

  “About seven years after me,” he whispered back.

  Sitting in the waiting room at the Halston Counseling Clinic, Cameron could not help but notice, how each of the three other people waiting were all young enough to be her
children. The laugh lines on her face that jumped out at her in the mirror on the wall didn’t help any.

  Like the others in the waiting room, Joshua scanned the Internet on his tablet to see if he could find more information about Charlene Halston and her disappearance in Syracuse, New York in 1996. The receptionist at the clinic had confirmed their assumption that the owner and chief psychologist at the Halston Clinic was Charley’s sister. She had been a college freshman when Charley disappeared.

  This was further confirmed by a picture of Charlene and a younger version, equally pretty, of her in a frame up on the wall. “She must be the sister,” Cameron noted.

  After almost an hour of waiting because they didn’t have an appointment, a young woman who looked barely old enough to be driving hurried down the stairs and out the door. She had her face buried in a tissue and made squeaky noises during her departure. They were still wondering at what had sent her running when the receptionist told him that Dr. Halston could see them and directed them to the top of the stairs.

  Dr. Halston wore her long dark hair straight and had soft features. In keeping with her status of doctor, she wore a pale blue dress with a jacket accentuating her feminine curves. “You two look more like professors than students.” She offered Cameron her hand. “You can call me Sam. I know most of the professors here on campus, but I don’t believe we met.”

  Joshua shook her hand after she had finished shaking Cameron’s. “That’s because we’re not. I’m a lawyer from Chester, in the northern panhandle of West Virginia; and this is my wife, Detective Cameron Gates. She’s a homicide detective with the Pennsylvania State Police.”

  A flicker of fear crossed Sam’s face before she led them to her office in the corner of the upper floor. As with downstairs, Charlene had left her mark in the form of pictures on the psychologist’s desk and on a shelf on the bookcase.

  “What brings you here?” In her office, Sam took the upholstered chair while directing them to the sofa as if they were a couple in for marriage counseling.

  Joshua took the lead.

  Not wanting to waste her time with the details of how they had come to this point in their case Joshua told her that he was working on another case for a client in Chester, and had come upon the case of Charley Halston’s disappearance. “I’m wondering if they could be connected in some way. Can you give me more information?”