Shades of Murder (The Mac Faraday Mysteries) Page 5

  Checking the time on the dashboard of his SUV, Joshua saw that he would have to wait another fifteen minutes to find out if his assumption was right.

  When you assume, you make an ass of you and me.

  The food smelled too good for a hungry man to resist. While watching for the street signs on the busy freeway, Joshua resisted the urge to reach inside the bag to chow down on the waffle fries.

  He worked his way through the streets on the outskirts of Pittsburgh, where the landscape changed from high rises and office complexes to rural farmland waiting to be developed.

  The broken down barn popped into view at the dead end of a subdivision road, which abruptly changed from paved to dirt without warning. Joshua didn’t notice the end of the road until his SUV dropped off the end of the pavement with a jolt that sent the food flying off the seat. It was only due to his quick reflexes that he caught the bag in mid-air with one hand.

  A white SUV was parked in the field. The pretty woman in the tan jacket was waiting on the tailgate. He saw that her lower half, clad in black slacks, was as pretty as the top.

  Thank you, God! She looks even better outside the police station.

  When Joshua pulled up to park behind her car, he saw that her attention was divided between him and something next toher on the tailgate. At first, he thought it was a doll or stuffed animal that she was stroking.

  Then, when he pulled his SUV up closer, it rolled over to let her scratch his tummy. It was a live animal with long black fur ... and a white stripe ... down the length of its back. Is that a skunk she’s petting?

  “Did you bring my bribe?” she called out when he climbed out of his car. She jumped down from the tailgate.

  “Is that what this is?” He handed the bag to her before reaching back into the car for the shakes.

  The animal paced back and forth on the tailgate.

  As if she might be unaware of what she had been petting, Joshua asked her in a low voice, “Is that a skunk?”

  “No.” She dug into the bag for the milk. “That’s Irving. He’s a Maine Coon. He only looks like a skunk.”

  “That’s a cat?” Carrying the shakes, Joshua went up to the tailgate for a closer look.

  Irving was much larger than a skunk. With his long silky black and white coat, which had the identical markings of a skunk, and white tufts that shot out of his black ears, he could be easily mistaken for the odious forest creature.

  Seeing food coming his way, Irving rose up on his hind legs to inspect the milkshakes. His mistress took a blue plastic dish from the back of the SUV and placed it on the ground. With a meow, he forgot about the shakes and jumped down to await the milk that was to serve as his lunch.

  Joshua noticed a leash, cat harness, pet bed, and assorted cat toys in the back of the SUV. “Do you take him to work with you?”

  “When you’re the department’s top homicide detective, they make some allowances.” She stroked the cat before standing up to dive into the bag for her lunch. “You didn’t notice him curled up in his bed under my desk, did you?” She laughed while dividing the food between them. “You should see the reaction we get from suspects and witnesses who’re under the influence.”

  “I can imagine.” He took the burger she offered him.

  “I’ll spill my guts while we eat.”

  They sat on the tail gate with the food between them. Judging by how she dove into the double cheeseburger, she wasn’t joking about being hungry. He waited for her to wash down her first bite of the burger with the milk shake before pointing out that she had not given him her name.

  “Haven’t you guessed?” she replied with a sly grin that brought dimples to her cheeks. “Detective Cameron Gates. I was the second lead detective investigating the Cartwright murders.” She shook his hand with greasy long fingers. “I’m the one you came in to see.”

  “Who was the obnoxious woman that wouldn’t let me see you?” Since she was meeting with him on the sly, Joshua didn’t think she was a comrade of the fat smoker.

  “My boss,” Cameron said. “Lieutenant Sherry Bixby. She wasn’t on the team during the investigation. She’s made some bad political moves and ticked the wrong people off. She’s got too many miles under her belt for the brass to fire her, so theywere just looking for someplace to put her until she gets in her time to retire. That’s how we got stuck with her.”

  Joshua pieced Bixby’s reluctance together. “If a murder attributed to Cartwright proves to be someone else on her watch, then her career is over.”

  “It’s already over,” she said. “People have told me that she’s a drunk. She claims to go out to her car for a smoke every hour. She does insist on having a cocktail hour, but then I know a lot of cops that stop for a drink after shift. It’s more with Bixby, though. She has wild mood swings and she doesn’t think straight. She makes bad decisions. That’s why she’s not out in the field.”

  “What if she knew you were meeting with me to discuss the Cartwright case after she tossed me out?” Joshua asked between bites of his burger.

  “What if?” she replied. “I’ve never cared about making friends and influencing people. I became a detective because I care about the victim who can’t ask for help. I’m not into making friends. Irving’s the first partner I ever had that worked out. Yeah, we fight and fuss; but Irving’s never asked to be reassigned to the bomb squad to get away from me.”

  Unsure if she was serious or not, Joshua cocked his head at her. “Has that happened?”

  “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?”

  “No.” The reference to the skunk cat made Joshua smile. “If Irving is like most cats I know, he’s happy as long as you leave him alone.”

  “And I’m happy as long as he leaves me alone.”

  “Then why do you take him to work with you?”

  Clearing her throat, she glanced down as if to ensure Irving wasn’t listening. He was still lapping up his lunch. She told Joshua in a low voice, “Irving has issues.”

  “Who doesn’t?” he whispered back.

  Smiling, she shook a fry in his direction while saying, “I like you.”

  Holding up his shake to take a long sip, he asked “Tell me about your issues.”

  “I’m pugnacious when I’m on a case. That’s one word that has been used to describe me. Another supervisor said I’m like a dog with a bone...I don’t know when to let go. That’s why I wasn’t picked to head the division even though Gregory recommended me for it after I helped him catch Cartwight.” She took a long drink of her shake. “Those are my issues. Want to tell me yours?” She ate another fry.

  “No.” He watched her chew the fry she popped into her mouth before taking another bite of the burger. There was something familiar about her.

  Seeming to sense him studying her, she looked down at the burger in her hand while wiping away a stray lock of hair that dipped into her eyes. The tan of her jacket brought out the green specks in her brown eyes, which were framed by minute laugh lines that added character to her face. With her shaggy, cinnamon-colored hair that fell to the collar of her jacket, Cameron looked like a girl. In her profession, calling her a girl was a slam. She didn’t look strong enough to handle herself when the situation called for it.

  He told her, “You knew before I came into that station that Cartwright didn’t kill Jane Doe.”

  “Gregory and I never said he did it. It was the media that assumed he did it because of the similarity between this murder and those he’d committed.”

  They paused to take long sips of their milkshakes.

  “Any idea about who she is?” he asked. “Do you have any suspects for her murder?”

  “No, but I know someone who does know.”

  “Who?”

  “The Ghost.”

  Digesting what she had said, Joshua was staring at her with his mouth hanging open when she turned to look at him. Her gaze was soft on him. The corner of her lips curled. When she reached out to him, his reflexes
made him fall back quicker than he really wanted.

  “You have mayo on your cheek.” She wiped his cheek with two fingers, which she kept on his cheek longer than necessary, while locking her eyes on his. When she leaned in to kiss him, he didn’t know which surprised him more: Her kissing him, or him letting her?

  It hit him—He realized who she reminded him of. It was in her kiss. Valerie. His late wife. The touch of her lips. The warm feeling that raced from the pit of his stomach and up to his chest to quicken the beat of his heart.

  His tone was low when he found his voice. “You move fast.”

  Her eyes were still locked on his. “I’ve learned something in this job. Life is short. When you see a good thing, go for it. You may not live to get a second chance.”

  The corner of her lips curled. “Irving likes you, too. That means a lot. Most men run away while screaming like little girls when they see him.”

  Having completed his lunch, Irving was sitting on Joshua’s foot to give himself a bath. Meticulously, he licked his paws before wiping his face with them.

  Sensing that the moment was getting hotter than he wanted, Joshua cleared his throat and turned his attention to their empty wrappers and bag. He rolled up the wrappers to put into the sack. “Who’s the Ghost? Are we talking about Jane Doe’s ghost?”

  “Maybe.” She was still drinking her milkshake when she hopped down from the tailgate and turned around to reach into a worn leather briefcase tucked in alongside of the rear compartment. “I never met her. She started calling me before and during Cartwright’s trial. Of course, the media dredged up everything about the murders, and Jane Doe’s picture was splashed all over the television and Internet, asking for anyone who knew who she was to call us. Low and behold, I get a call from a woman asking me questions about the Jane Doe case.”

  Joshua asked, “What did you tell her?”

  “I’ve been at this for a while,” Cameron said. “I only told her what was for public knowledge. The thought even crossed my mind that it was a trick by the defense lawyers, but like you said, Cartwright was never charged with Jane Doe’s murder.”

  “Did the informant tell you who Jane was?”

  Shaking her head, Cameron pulled her briefcase forward and dug through it. “I got no names. Not for Jane or the informant. When I pressed her for something to call her, she said she was the ghost of Jane Doe. That’s why I call her the Ghost.” She slapped his thigh with a notepad. “Here are my notes for the case. My conversations with the Ghost are in the back.”

  Joshua flipped through the pages to make his way to the end of the notepad. Cameron was organized. She had dates and times for everything.

  “The Ghost had a thick accent,” she recalled. “She knew Jane Doe was a natural red head. One would have assumed she had a dye job. She also asked if Jane Doe had an appendectomy scar. That wasn’t released to the media. Only someone who knew her would have known that.”

  “Then the Ghost did know who Jane Doe was,” Joshua said. “Did she tell you anything else?”

  Cameron shook her head. “It was very frustrating. From that point on, she was asking me questions, which I couldn’t answer because it was an open case. I couldn’t get anything from her. I tried to get her to come in. She said she couldn’t. I sense she was scared. I explained that if she wanted us to find out who killed her friend or whatever—”

  “Did she think Oliver Cartwright did it?” Joshua interrupted to ask.

  “No,” Cameron said. “She knew from the get-go that he didn’t do it. She told me he didn’t do it. I think the killer was someone the victim knew. That’s why the Ghost kept asking me questions. She was trying to figure it out on her own. Thing is, she didn’t give me anything to help us. She started calling me out of the blue, and out of the blue, she stopped calling.”

  Joshua noted the date of the last call.

  Thursday, September 2, 2004. 4:30 pm. Ghost asks if forensics answered her question about murder weapon possibly being a piano wire. Answer that it could have been. Ask Ghost if she knows of someone who could have done it with such a weapon. No answer. Repeat request for Ghost to come in to tell us what she knows to help catch Jane Doe’s killer. Ghost says she’ll take care of it. Hangs up.

  Cameron pressed her finger against the last entry. “Never heard from her again.”

  “I wonder if she did take care of it.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” She pulled a case file out of the briefcase and handed it to him. “My boot leg copy of the Jane Doe murder case. We’re going to be needing this if we’re going to find out who really killed her.”

  He took the file and thumbed through the reports. “Is this the royal ‘we’?”

  “Of course.” She backed up from him. “Gregory is dead. Bixby won’t allow anyone in the department to work on it. You certainly don’t expect me and Irving to do this all on our own, do you?” She let out a loud sarcastic laugh. “I’m just a girl.”

  She batted her eyelashes at him and whirled around. Her jacket lifted to reveal her police shield and gun clipped to her belt.

  Joshua joined in her laughter. He had that warm familiar feeling again and liked it.

  Now this is the way to spend a vacation—solving a murder with a stunning woman...and a skunk cat name Irving. What would my kids say if they knew?

  Finished with his bath, Irving jumped up onto the tailgate. As if to thank Joshua for bringing his lunch, he rubbed the whole length of his long body against his arm from nose to tail and then back again.

  “Picture this.” Cameron came back up to where Joshua was sitting on her tail gate. “Jane Doe’s murder was crying out copycat, but we had three other unsolved murders, and then Cartwright killed his next victim. Our top priority back then was to get Cartwright off the streets. All of our man power was focused on catching the serial killer, not the copycat. By the time we nailed Cartwright, everyone had virtually forgotten about Jane Doe, and we didn’t get any heat from the media, who assumed and lumped her murder in with those of his victims.”

  “Meanwhile, Jane Doe’s killer goes free.” Joshua stood up from the tailgate.

  Irving jumped down and trotted over to his mistress.

  “Exactly.” She closed the tail gate.

  He looked down at the thick folder in his hand. “Tell me what you do know about Jane Doe. She had an appendectomy.”

  She led him over to the edge of the field. While she was speaking, they waded through the clover and tall grass. “A farmer found her body on June 10, 2003. He saw buzzards overhead and thought it was a dead deer.” She stopped to point down to her feet. “He found her right here.”

  The growth of tall grass in fertile soil left no tell-tale sign that it was the spot where death had rested almost ten years before.

  Cameron continued, “Good thing he checked. He was out here to mow the hay. If he hadn’t …” With a shiver, she stared off across the field filled with clover swaying in the breeze. “She’d been dead over twenty-four hours.”

  Joshua studied the crime scene picture of her body that was clipped to the top of the reports in the file. Her wavy red hair was fanned out behind her where she had been sprawled out naked in the bed of clover. Having grown up with family in the farming business, he recalled that farm animals love the sweet taste of clover.

  The bruise across her neck was dark against her gray flesh. “She was garroted,” he said. “Cartwright strangled his victims from the front with his bare hands.”

  Cameron nodded her head. “That was the deal breaker for trying to charge Cartwright with the murder.”

  “Are there any signs of sexual assault?” He flipped through the coroner’s report to find the official statement.

  “She had sexual intercourse shortly before she was killed, but not directly before. The ME said it was most likely consensual.”

  Flipping through the report, Joshua led her back to the road where Irving sat waiting. “He collected semen from her body.”

  �
�The sample wasn’t viable for DNA analysis.”

  Joshua asked her, “Did you ever find any leads, besides the Ghost, in identifying her?”

  “At the time of the murder, her picture was all over the news for more than a week,” Cameron said. “We never located her car. Cartwright would always drive the car back to the shopping center from where he’d snatched his victim.”

  “Forget about Cartwright,” he said. “We’re looking for someone else. How about her fingerprints?”

  “We ran her fingerprints through AFIS and there were no hits,” she said.

  “Okay.” Joshua studied Jane Doe’s picture and the ME’s report. “No body piercings or tattoos. There’s some alcohol in her blood, but nothing significant. Appendectomy scar. Her lungs were clear. She wasn’t a smoker. Mid-to late twenties.”

  “Cartwright’s victims were late teens to early twenties.”

  “My point is this woman is not malnourished. No drugs, no—She was well taken care of. Someone cared about her.”

  “The Ghost,” Cameron said. “But, according to her, she was taking care of it.”

  Joshua was reading another line in the autopsy report. “X-rays show the victim had extensive dental work possibly originating in Europe, most likely Britain.” He turned to her. “Did you know that the most expensive dental work in the world is done in Britain?”

  “I did not know that,” Cameron replied. “She may be European.” She slapped her forehead with her open palm. “The Ghost spoke with a European accent. Of course!”

  She looked up in time to see a jet ascending overhead as it took off from the airport located several exits up the freeway. “The airport isn’t far from here. The killer could have snatched her from there shortly after she arrived from someplace else. She’s not local. That’s why no one recognized her picture on the news. Her body was dumped. That was another thing. The body showed signs of lividity and there were carpet fibers in her hair.” She showed him the place in the forensics report where it reported the carpet fibers.

  “Can you run her fingerprints again?” Joshua asked. “This time run them through the international database. If she’s a foreigner, you may get a hit. Someone somewhere in this world has to know this woman.”