Real Murder (Lovers in Crime Mystery Book 2) (2 page)

Friday the Thirteenth: September 13, 1996:  Allison’s Diner, Carolina Avenue, Chester, West Virginia

“It was twenty years ago today that West Virginia Congressman Roderick Hilliard was killed when his  private plane, which he was piloting, crashed into the side of a Blue Ridge mountain during a flight to Washington, DC. Two passengers in the plane, the congressman’s lawyer and  his assistant, also died in the crash,” the newscaster reported from the radio that provided background noise in the small diner. “Congresswoman Rachel Hilliard recalled her late husband today in a speech to a group of veterans—”

“Dad, why does Murphy always get the last fry?” seven-year-old J. J. Thornton objected when he saw his identical twin brother going after the last fry on the plate set between them at the booth. “I never get the last bite.”

“You do so,” Murphy said.

“When?”

“Last night,” Murphy said. “You finished the popcorn.”

“Did not,” J. J. countered, “Tracy got that.”

“Point is I didn’t.” Murphy reached for the fry only to discover that his sister, two-year-old Sarah, had snagged it while they were arguing, smashed it in her little hands, and shoved it into her mouth to create a nasty mess on her face and everything she touched.

“Dad!” the twins called out in unison.

“What?” Joshua Thornton found it difficult to keep the exasperation out of his voice when he looked up from the reports in the file he was reading. Even though he had been sitting at the table during the ordeal, he had managed to block out their squabbling. It was a talent he had developed while working his way up in his navy career as an officer, and as a lawyer, with a growing and rambunctious family.

Such a skill was not a great marital attribute, especially when your wife was trying to organize a move halfway across the world while keeping four children, all under the age of seven, in line. Joshua tried to help his wife as best he could, but that was difficult when he got his first assignment at their new post in Naples, Italy. A navy officer was accused of raping a fellow officer. Joshua Thornton was expected to lead the investigation as soon as he arrived.

How did he prepare for a major court martial case while moving a family of six halfway across the world? Carefully.

Joshua had agreed to take the kids out for lunch at the downtown diner on the main drag of Chester while his  wife, Valerie, and his grandmother finished the last of the packing.

“Sarah ate the last fry.” J. J. pointed a finger of accusation at her. “It was supposed to be mine.”

“It was mine,” Murphy said.

“Why don’t I ever get the last fry?” Five-year-old Tracy refused to be left out.

“Because you never call dibs,” J. J. answered.

Murphy told his father, “You said I could have the fry.”

“No, I didn’t,” Joshua replied.

“You did so say so!” This irritated Murphy more than losing the fry to his sister. He went on to recount in detail that while they were eating he had asked if he could have the last one, to which his father had replied, “Uh-huh.”

Considering that he was in the midst of reading a witness account and not necessarily paying attention, Joshua hated to admit that Murphy’s statement could be true.

“Josh?”

With a smile of relief, Joshua looked up to see a young man dressed in the uniform of a Hancock County Sheriff Deputy making his way from the door to their booth.

Even with his red hair cut short into a military cut, the curls at the ends of his locks were evident. The laughter in his blue eyes projected his good-natured personality. “That is you!” the deputy grinned widely at Joshua. “How have you been?”

“Mike … Gardner?” Joshua stood up and greeted the  muscular police officer with a warm handshake that turned into a hug. “How are you?” When he pulled back, he looked the muscle-bound man up and down and let out a whistle. “Look at you.”

“Me?” Mike gestured at the booth filled with children. “What about you? Are these all yours?”

“Yeah.” With a wicked grin, Joshua explained, “I travel a lot and my wife gets lonely.”

“Is that a real gun?” Tracy pointed at the gun on the  deputy’s belt.

“Yes, it is.” Mike grasped the weapon to protect her from reaching for it while draping his other arm across the back of her seat. “And what is your name, pretty lady?”

“Tracy,” she replied. “And this is my baby sister Sarah. She’s two-years-old. I’m five.” She held up her hand to show him all of her fingers.

“Well, Tracy, my son is five-years-old, too,” Mike said.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“Hunter.”

“Does he have any brothers or sisters?”

“Not right now,” Mike said. “But we keep hoping to give him a little sister.”

“You can give him mine,” Tracy said. “I won’t mind. Mommy always tells me to be generous with those who have less than me.”

“That doesn’t apply to your siblings,” Joshua interjected.

“I’m Joshua Thornton Junior,” J. J. told Mike. “I was born first. This is my brother Murphy. I’m seven minutes older than him.”

“What’s your name?” Murphy pointed at the police officer to demand the information.

“Deputy Mike Gardner,” the officer replied. “I grew up with your father. We lived one block apart and went all through school together.” He turned to Joshua. “I had no idea you were back in town.”

“We’re on one month’s home leave,” Joshua said. “Tomorrow morning we’re on our way to Naples.”

“Italy?” Mike’s eyes grew big.

“For three years,” Joshua said.

“Well, you always wanted to see the world.”

“And that’s what I’m doing.” Not wanting to brag, Joshua steered the conversation back to his friend. “What about you? I thought you were still out West.” Taking note of his uniform, he added, “I see you’ve made it through the police academy.”

“After college and doing my time with the marines,” Mike said. “I’ve only been with the sheriff’s department for about six months.” He looked around before lowering his voice. “Working on my first murder case.”

“Really?” Joshua asked. “Interesting?”

“I’m going to meet my CI out at the park.”

“What’s a CI?” Murphy asked in a loud voice.

Mike shushed the boy while Joshua answered in a low tone, “Confidential informant.”

“Man,” Mike told Joshua with a shake of his head. “I wish you weren’t going tomorrow. I could really use your help in this case.”

“What type of case is it?”

“A murdered prostitute.” Mike’s eyes got a far-away look in them. “No one seems to care about finding out who killed her … but I care.”

“That’s what matters,” Joshua said.

When the server interrupted their conversation to give the deputy his lunch in a take-out bag, Mike refused to give Joshua a chance to get away without finishing his thought. His eyes were bright when he suggested, “Hey, Josh, maybe you can come with me to meet my CI. You’d know what to ask him. You could help me figure out if what he’s telling me is the truth or not. You always had a good sense—trusting your gut, you used to say—”

“I can’t, Mike,” Joshua said with a shake of his head.

Saying nothing, Mike stared at his childhood friend.

Guilt washed over Joshua. “I can’t.”

“I could really use your help, Josh. This case is important to me. It would only take a few hours.”

“I’m leaving for Naples at six o’clock in the morning.” Joshua held up his watch to show him. “That’s in less than twenty-four hours.”

“I understand.” Mike flashed him a smile. “I guess I’m just a little nervous.” With a hasty good-bye, he hurried out the door.

Joshua slapped the folder down on top of his other papers. “Anyone want dessert?”

Four hands went up.

That was when Joshua noticed the mashed fried potatoes on Sarah’s hands and face. He was wiping it off when J. J.  declared his intention of eating a hot fudge sundae with nuts and cherries. Murphy put in his vote for a hot fudge brownie delight with extra whipped cream and chocolate ice cream instead of vanilla.

The server arrived at the table with extra napkins. “Everyone save room for dessert?”

In a voice one decibel over the children’s, Joshua ordered, “Two single scoops of vanilla ice cream. Two single scoops of chocolate, and one hot fudge brownie delight with whipped cream, nuts, and cherries for me.”

J. J. and Murphy’s faces fell while the server walked away. “No fair!” J. J. cried out.

“It’s very fair.” Joshua looked out the window to the  passing traffic on Carolina Avenue. He watched Mike climb into his police cruiser and pull out into traffic. Behind him, a black Bonneville pulled out to fall in and follow him. Unable to make out the driver through the smoky window, Joshua felt his stomach twist into a tight knot.

“Mike,” Joshua heard the name climb up out of his throat while his breath quickened. Suddenly, he was out of his seat and running for the exit. He burst out the door, onto the sidewalk, and into the street to see the cruiser and the black Bonneville disappear into traffic.

That was the last time anyone saw Deputy Mike Gardner.

Chapter One

Eighteen Years Later—Tomlinson Run Park, New Manchester, West Virginia

“Would you like another breast, Tad?”

Dr. Tad MacMillan studied the last two bites of white meat on the chicken breast in the middle of his paper plate before answering the robust woman standing over him with a foil pan in one hand and a pair of tongs clutching a fried chicken piece in the other. He was already on his third piece.

“Come on, Tad.” His wife, Jan, urged him from across the picnic table. Her attention was divided between her husband, their three-month-old son fussing in the baby carrier on top of the table, and her long blonde hair that had abruptly  become too hot on her neck. “You know you want it. That’s what church picnics are for. Eating until you bust.” She clenched a hair clip in her teeth and gathered her hair together with both hands.

Entertained by the funny looking object sticking out of his mother’s mouth, Tad Jr. giggled.

Tired of waiting for his response, the woman plopped the plump breast onto his plate and moved on to the next table to foist the remaining chicken on other picnickers.

“I’m trying to save room for Cameron’s hot fudge lava cake,” Tad said while searching the parking lot for his cousin and his wife, “if she ever comes.”

After taking the clip out of her mouth, Jan continued to make funny faces at the baby, who giggled harder. “Not to mention the ice cream that Josh is supposed to bring.”

“Where are they anyway?”

“Cameron got a lead on a murder case she was working and took off this morning.” After securing her hair up on top of her head, Jan picked Tad Junior up out of the carrier. “Josh decided to work on an opening argument that he’s giving tomorrow. He didn’t want to come without her.”

“Just like newlyweds.” Tad dove into the next piece of chicken. “I remember when you refused to go anywhere without me at your side.

“Now I don’t even notice when you aren’t there,” she confessed. “I never thought we would get this old and settled.”

“Can you really picture me being settled?” Tad let out a laugh before peeling the crispy skin off the chicken piece on his plate.

“I just hope T. J. takes after me instead of you in that regard,” Jan said.

“You’re not the only one.”

While hugging their son, Jan looked across the picnic table at her husband, Dr. Tad MacMillan, the town doctor and Hancock County’s medical examiner. His salt and pepper hair brought out his blue eyes heavily framed with laugh lines. They may have been old and settled, but his laid back style and charismatic ways still caught her off guard sometimes.

Taking in their friends and family that littered the park for the church picnic, Jan found it hard to believe that less than a decade earlier she had resigned herself to the fact that she would never marry, let alone have a journalism career, and a fussy baby, who just threw up down the back of her shirt.

While the older members of the church congregation were helping themselves to seconds and thirds of the picnic fare, the younger and more athletic picnickers were racing paddleboats across the park’s lake. Joshua Thornton’s sixteen-year old-son Donny, the only remaining child at home, was included in that group. The boys were racing the girls.

“Faster! Pedal faster!” Donny yelled at his friend Woody.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” The chubby teenager, who rarely exercised anything except his fingers while playing  computer games, was put out with being coerced into this  activity in the first place. At least since he was partnered with Donny, a linebacker on Oak Glen High School’s football team, he stood a chance of winning the race.

“Beat you!” the girls squealed from the shore where they turned their craft around.

With a curse, Donny kicked at the pedals and sat back to let the sun shine on his face.

The paddleboat rocked when Woody leaned over the side to peer into the water. “Hey, what’s that?”

“What?” Donny replied without opening his eyes.

“Down there.”

“Down where?”

Woody nudged him in the arm. “In the water. It looks like a car.”

Opening his eyes, Donny sat up. “So someone tossed their old car into the lake. Happens all the time.”

“Do the police dump their old cruisers in the lake, too?”

Joshua Thornton pulled his SUV into the Medical Center parking lot in Beaver, Pennsylvania, and rolled into the space next to the state police cruiser, which he recognized as belonging to the district chief.

Good. Someone who’ll be able to tell me what’s going on.

Thinking about the most likely possibilities of why he had received a call from the state police barracks that Cameron was in the emergency room, his heartbeat quickened along with his pace through the hospital entrance.

She’d been shot. Can’t be too bad though. If that were the case, they’d have sent a police officer to come get me. They wouldn’t have made a vague phone call.

Joshua didn’t see anyone he knew in the emergency room reception area, He was like everyone else who walked in. It was a big difference from the East Liverpool City Hospital in Ohio, which was on his side of the state line, or rather closer to his area of West Virginia. There, someone would have been waiting at the door to fill in Hancock County’s prosecuting attorney.

But at the Medical Center in Beaver, Pennsylvania, Joshua Thornton was simply another nervous family member of someone who had been brought in by ambulance.

“Excuse me.” He rapped on the glass window at the reception desk. “I’m looking for a patient. Detective Cameron Gates with the Pennsylvania State Police?”

“Are you family?”

“I’m her husband.”

Saying those words still sounded strange to him. It had been less than ninety days since Cameron had accepted his marriage proposal. He had concealed the diamond ring in the bottom of a hot fudge sundae. After licking off the fudge, she slipped it onto her finger and hadn’t taken it off since, except to put on her wedding band.

“She’s in emergency room three. Through those doors and to the right.” The receptionist hit a button to release the security lock on the door and let Joshua into the ward.

He spotted Lieutenant Miles Dugan in the hallway on the other side of the door.

“Joshua …” The lieutenant rushed forward to clasp his hand. “She’s going to be fine. They’re giving her an MRI right now, but she’s been conscious and talking. The doctor says it’s a concussion.”

Joshua tried to concentrate on his words, which were  being drowned out by the moaning and calls of pain in the next room, where a man was handcuffed to the gurney. Nearby, a uniformed police officer was watching an attractive nurse set the man’s broken leg.

“Crazy bitch! Police brutality. I’m suing! I get a call to a lawyer, don’t I? That crazy bitch almost killed me!”

“What happened?” Joshua tore his eyes from the cursing man to the police lieutenant, who was guiding him into the next examination room. The empty gurney showed signs of having been occupied.

“I’m sure Cameron told you about a case she’d been  working on—the rapist who killed a woman in front of her four-year-old daughter?”

Joshua nodded his head. “One of those cases that’s been keeping Cam up at night. Those are the ones that get to you.”

“They should be bringing Cameron back soon.” Lieutenant Dugan gestured for him to take the chair in the corner next to the gurney.

Joshua recognized the brown spring jacket folded up in the chair. When he picked it up to move, the bright light overhead caught on the shiny gold of his new wedding band.

“This morning,” Dugan was saying, “Cameron got a lead on where her prime suspect was.” Aware of the suspect in the next room, the lieutenant lowered his voice. “She was after a jilted boyfriend who had disappeared off the grid right  after the murder. One of his old pals, looking for the reward for information about his whereabouts, called to say that the suspect was staying with his new girlfriend at an apartment complex up on the North Side. Cameron went to check it out. She knocked on the girlfriend’s door and as soon as she  flashed her badge, the perp bailed out the bedroom window and went down the fire escape. The girlfriend tried to hold her back. By the time Cameron reached the window, he was on the ground and running across the parking lot.” A smile broke across the police lieutenant’s face.

“What happened?” Joshua asked. “What did she do?”

Lieutenant Dugan laughed.

Fingering the gold band on his left ring finger, Joshua imagined what Homicide Detective Cameron Gates would do if she were on the second floor watching her perp getting away. “Are you telling me that she jumped off the second-floor fire escape to bring him down?”

“Witnesses say she landed right on top of him. They both hit the pavement like a ton of bricks and were unconscious when the uniforms got there.” Dugan gestured at the examination room next door. “As you can see, he broke her fall.”

Not believing Dugan, but knowing his new wife, Joshua realized it was entirely possible and shook his head. “She’s  crazy.” He was torn between being as amused as her boss  and being scared for his wife’s safety when she behaved so recklessly.

“That’s what makes her so good,” the police lieutenant said.

“Well, it’s about time my silver fox got here!” Cameron sang out when the nurse brought her into the room in a wheelchair.

Trying to appear serious, Joshua fought the grin that came to his face when he saw her dressed in her brown slacks with a teal polo shirt. She had a scrape across the width of her  forehead and a gash on her right cheekbone.

“This is my handsome groom that I was telling you about,” Cameron told the nurse who insisted on helping her out of the chair and into the bed.

“Congratulations,” the nurse said to Joshua. “When did you get married?”

“Forty-five days ago.” Recalling how beautiful Cameron looked while standing at the pulpit in his church, and seeing how beautiful she was grinning at him from where she was sitting on the edge of the gurney, Joshua smiled.

After assuring them it would take about an hour for the results of the MRI, the nurse left. At the same time, the  lieutenant moved on to the next room. “I’m going to see about getting our murder suspect released and down to the station for processing.”

Once they were alone, Cameron turned to Joshua. Her auburn hair curled and waved in every direction to where it fell at the bottom of her neck. The green specks in her hazel eyes seemed to flash at him. “Go ahead.” She flashed him a wink. “Let me have it.”

Sighing, Joshua stood up. Imprisoning her between his arms, he towered over her in the bed. She gazed up at him while he leaned over to kiss her tenderly on the lips. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

“So am I.” She ran her fingers through his silver hair that fell in a wave down to the top of his shirt collar. His face was so close to hers that his breath feathered across her cheek. It tingled the open wound.

“I’d order you to be more careful if I thought it would do any good,” he said.

“I’m as careful as I can be,” she said.

“What if you had missed when you jumped off that fire escape?”

“I didn’t.”

“What if you did?”

“But I didn’t.”

He sighed again. “Cam, I buried one wife. I don’t think I could go through burying another.”

“Same here,” she replied. “Losing my first husband almost killed me—and I’m not only talking about emotionally.  I’m not going to let you go through that, and I don’t intend to go through it again myself.”

He kissed her aching forehead. The touch of his lips on her wound both excited and hurt her. “I guess this means we’ll have to make a pact to go together.”

“Works for me.” She pulled him down to kiss him fully on the lips. With her arms wrapped around him, she felt the vibration of his phone, which was clipped to his belt. “Let it go to voicemail,” she whispered when he pulled away to answer it.

“It might be Donny,” he said. “I was in such a hurry to get here that I didn’t bother calling him at the picnic.” He read the caller ID. “It’s Tad.” He pressed the phone to his ear. “Hey, Tad, what’s up?”

“Are you home?” Tad asked him.

“I’m with Cameron,” Joshua said.

“Are you coming to the picnic?”

Joshua checked the clock on the wall overhead. It was midafternoon. By the time they got to the picnic, people would be leaving. “I doubt it. Why? Is there chicken left over? You can send it home with Donny.” He flashed a grin at Cameron who fell back onto the gurney with her fingers laced behind her head. “Cameron and I will eat it.”

“I think you better get over here to the park.”

The serious tone in Tad’s voice jolted Joshua. “Why?”

“The kids found a car at the bottom of the lake,” Tad said, “and there’s a body in it. Josh, it’s a police cruiser—the police have already determined that the license plate matches the cruiser Mike Gardner was driving when he’d disappeared.”

Joshua felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut.

Seeing the expression on his face, Cameron rose up onto her elbows when he promised Tad that he would be right there before hanging up. “Josh, what’s wrong? Is Donny hurt?”

“Donny’s fine,” was all Joshua got out before Lieutenant Dugan and the doctor stepped into the doorway.

Lieutenant Miles Dugan introduced the doctor to Joshua and Cameron before turning over the reporting to him. “Detective Gates, we did a thorough MRI of your head and couldn’t find anything.”

Joshua choked back a laugh.

Cameron jerked her aching head toward him. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

The doctor continued, “We found no intracranial  bleeding. That doesn’t mean that you have none. You could have some slight bleeding that didn’t show up. You were unconscious and you did have memory loss. You do have a  concussion, and we recommend that you take it easy for a few days, maybe up to two weeks.”

The doctor directed his attention to Joshua, “You’ll need to watch her. She’ll want to sleep while her brain heals. Keep checking on her, and if you see any trouble waking up or memory loss get her to the ER.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Joshua replied.

The lieutenant added, “The doctor has recommended that with this type of injury you take two weeks sick leave.”

“Weeks?” Cameron squawked.

The police lieutenant was firm. “You have the time. We can’t have you out there in the field if you’ve got a potential brain injury.” He gestured at Joshua. “You only took a couple of days off when you got married. Go home. Take a honeymoon. Enjoy being a newlywed.”

“And don’t go jumping off any tall buildings,” the doctor added.