The Scum of All Fears: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 5 (18 page)

I stifled a scream.

“Riley, you’ve got to wake up!” I whispered, nudging his shoulder.

His eyes popped open, confusion washing over his fe
atures as he pushed himself up. “What . . . ?”

I shook my head, put a finger over my lips to motion “quiet,” and pointed at the front door. The grogginess disappeared from his eyes when he saw the knob turning. He jumped to his feet.

“Lock yourself in my room and call the police,” he whispered.

“I’m not leaving you out here. Are you crazy?”

“Gabby, I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. Don’t you understand that?”

“Well, I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you, so, yes, I can understand that. We’re in this together. I
’m not leaving you.”

He stared at me a moment before nodding. “Fine. Get your gun.”

My purse was right beside the couch. I pulled out the weapon, which was starting to feel an awful lot like an appendage lately. I really didn’t want to shoot someone, but I would if I had to.

I couldn’t sh
oot to kill, for more than one reason. Morally, I couldn’t stand the thought of taking someone else’s life. But the fact also remained that, if I killed Milton Jones, we might never find Nichole, Clarice or Rose. He was the only one who had knowledge of their whereabouts. Well . . . him and his accomplice. I just wasn’t certain how deep the accomplice’s involvement went.

Riley motioned toward the door. He took his place on one side of the threshold, while I stood on the other side—behind the door. My skin was alive with
dread and if my pulse pounded any harder I feared I might either throw up from anxiety or go into cardiac arrest.

I
froze as the doorknob twisted again. Someone was determined to get inside Riley’s apartment. How had they gotten past the police officer parked out front?

Riley nodded at me and reached for the door.

“Do you think I could get some milk?”

I jerked my head
back. Tim stood there, scratching his stomach and looking at us like we were crazy.

I
frantically motioned for him to be quiet.

“What?” He held up his hands. “It’s just milk. If it’s yours, that
still means I didn’t buy it. Free is free. I’m a man of principle.”

I growled.

The doorknob stopped jiggling, and footsteps hurried away outside the door.

Riley threw the lock off and opened the door.

“Call the police!” I yelled to Tim.

Riley and I stepped outside just as a figure disappeared out the front door.

He had too much of a head start on us. We flew down the stairs. I practically fell out the front door before skidding to a halt on the small slab some might call a porch. Riley stood on the front step. He pointed toward the street. “There he is!”

Riley
darted down the sidewalk. I followed behind, wishing I had shoes on. Rocks stabbed at my already tender feet as I hurried down the front steps. I spotted the police cruiser in the lot.

The police! Why hadn’t the officer seen what was happening and taken action?
Did everything have to be spelled out?

I pounded at the window of the cruiser. The
officer inside stared straight ahead, unmoving, unblinking.

I gasped
and pulled myself back. My heart stuttered a beat when I realized the officer was . . . dead?

Tim had called 911. Backup should be on the way. Satisfied with that reasoning, I sprinted across the street, headed toward the residential area behind my apartment complex and away from the busy retail and restaurant area.

I could no longer see Riley or Milton Jones. I wasn’t even sure which direction to look. I paused and heard some dogs barking. That seemed like a good indicator of where to look.

I pushed myself to move quickly—quickly enough that my lungs screamed for air and that my legs pulled tight with strain. This was our chance. I didn’t want to blow it.

I rounded the corner, following the canine tattletales that alerted me something was going on. As my lungs burned, I reminded myself that I needed to work out more, for this very reason.
What if I need to chase a serial killer one day?
I’d given this as an excuse before and people had laughed at me.

I stopped running
at the next street corner and bent over, trying to catch my breath. I prayed that Riley was okay. As the image of the downed police officer filled my thoughts, I prayed even harder.

Movement in the distance caught my eye. Riley appeared between two houses. His hands were on his hips
, and he shook his head. I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t happy. I jogged to meet him halfway. Though I hoped for good news, I knew I wouldn’t be receiving any.

“I lost him.” Riley shook his head, his jaw hard and his chest quickly rising and falling. “
He had too much of a head start. He was weaving between houses, throwing over trashcans. Then I heard a car squeal away.”

I closed my eyes
as disappointment filled me. I’d been expecting the news, but still. We’d been close. So close.

Milton Jones was always a step ahead of us.

Riley sucked in another long breath as we began walking back to the apartment to see if the police had arrived. “There was something strange, Gabby.”

“What’s that?”

“Milton Jones is in his early fifties. The way that man ran . . . he was so agile, like he was someone much younger.”

“You think it was his accomplice?”

Riley nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Any tell tale signs as to who he could have been?”

Riley shook his head grimly. “No, not a clue. It could have been Dr. Alexander, Freddy Myers, or even Officer Newell, for all I know.”

I
kicked a rock, watching as it rushed across the pavement and hit the curb. When would we ever catch a break? Lately, it felt like never.

CHAPTER
29

The police had come, the police had searched, and the police had gone. Now the sun was rising, I was going on my—how many? I’d lost count—night without sleep.
I was tired. Riley was agitated. Tim was confused.

The good news was that the cop in the car wasn’t dead. He’d been knocked out.
I’d assumed the worst in my haste to catch Jones.

The bad news was
that the police hadn’t caught Jones or his accomplice, despite the manhunt that had ensued.

A
t 7 a.m., Riley and I went across the street to The Grounds to get some coffee. I think that for once in his life Riley understood my “I’m too tired to make coffee without any coffee” mantra. Besides, I wanted to see Sharon and find out how she was doing.

Before I even reached Sharon, Bill McCormick appeared from a corner table, an extra large cup of coffee in hand. Gone was his earlier glibness. Instead, his eyes looked sad. “I know it sounds crazy. It was one date. But I really thought
Rose and I had something.”

“I’m sorry, Bill.”

He continued to talk. He’d thought they had a real connection, a great date, and now all of that was gone. The earlier celebration over his boost in ratings had disappeared faster than his hairline.

Riley and I had done our best to comfort him, b
ut Bill finally shuffled back to his apartment to get ready for work. I didn’t like people who hurt other people. I really didn’t. And that meant Milton Jones was at the top of my list of Most Despised People.

Sharon was at her normal place behind the counter. But instead of her normal smile, her eyes looked puffy and dull.
She frowned and her chin trembled when she looked up and spotted me. Riley gave me a nod and went to sit at a table, so I could talk to Sharon privately for a moment.

I went around
the counter and pulled her into a hug. We shared a moment of grief.

When we stepped back, I rubbed her arm. “How are you holding up?”

“Not well. I haven’t slept in days. I keep having nightmares. I keep thinking about what might be happening to her . . .”

“Have the police given you any leads? Any updates?”

“Only that they’re working around the clock.”

I nodded. “And they are. The lead detective doesn’t look like he’s gotten a moment of rest. I know this is top priority, not only for local
authorities, but the FBI is in on this, too.”

“You’re the only one who can find her.”

I shook my head, honored that she thought so highly of me, but skeptical at the same time. “All my leads have led nowhere.”

“
You’re not giving up, are you?”

“Of course
not. It’s been all I’ve been breathing and eating since it happened.”

She squeezed the skin between her eyes. “This is all my fault.”

“Why in the world would you think this was your fault?”

She sagged against the counter.
“I should have just given her a job here, but did I want to work with her? No. I pawned her off on you. That led her right into the killer’s hands.”

I pulled her into another hug. “This is in no way your fault, Sharon. You can’t blame yourself for the actions of a psychopath.”

Her cry told me that she hadn’t heard a word I said, though.

And I had no idea how to convince her otherwise . . . except
by saving Clarice.

***

Riley and I walked back to the apartment building, one that I was starting to think of as
Calamityville Horror
. No one would want to buy this place in the future, not with everything that had happened here.

Then I thought about
Rose and about Freddy and changed my mind.

Some people would buy it
because
of the things that had happened here.

As
soon as we stepped inside, I saw Teddi standing at the top of the steps. She was the only girlfriend my dad had since mom died who’d stuck around long enough for me to remember her name. She was the epitome of a Texas beauty queen, only with about twenty years of tarnish on her crown.

I almost hated to admit it, but I liked her. She wasn’t my mom. No one would ever be my mom. But my dad liked her. He’d straightened up a lot since they started dating, so I couldn’t
complain.

“Are you ready to go dress shopping?”
She stood at the top of the stairs, a wide smile on her face.

Dress shopping?
That’s right! How had I forgotten? I wanted to do a face palm at my stupidity. In my defense, a lot had happened this week.

“
Teddi, I’m so sorry, but I forgot. I can’t make it today.”

“You’ve got to make some time for yourself. That’s what I always say. No one else is going to take care of you like you can.” She
glided down the stairs in high heels with more ease than I did walking on flat surfaces wearing flip flops. Amazing.

“I know,
Teddi. I really do. And I want to go shopping with you, but some things have come up. Some really important things that I can’t put off.”

“But your wedding . . .”

“Can we reschedule? Maybe for next week instead?” Provided a serial killer wasn’t still chasing me.

“I was so looking forward to some girl time today.”
She frowned, pouted almost.

I smiled sincerely. “S
ome girl time does sound nice, and I do want your opinion.”

Apparently,
Teddi didn’t have a TV in her house. Otherwise, she would probably realize that the Scum River Killer was in town, and that Riley and I had been affiliated with the case. Everyone in the area seemed to know that after the killer had called Bill McCormick’s show.

I hated to do it, but I was going to leave her in the dark about this one. The facts of the case were enough to raise anyone’s blood pressure.
Worry about loved ones was worse than worrying about yourself.

She squeezed my arm.
“Listen, I wanted to let you know that your dad and I have talked, and we want to help pay for part of the wedding. We wish we could pay for the whole thing, but that’s really not an option right now.”

I stopped cold and blinked. Certainly I hadn’t heard correctly. My dad had bummed off of me for years, refusing to work himself.
It was a long story, but I’d enabled him to do so. Each request for cash had prompted my guilt complex to kick in.

“We couldn’t do that,” Riley said.
He put his hand on my back.

I shook my head. “Besides, m
y dad doesn’t have the money.”

“He’s been working some extra jobs lately, just so he can help you out.”

“My dad?” Certainly she was talking about someone else. Someone responsible. Someone not related to me.

“Yes, your dad.”
Teddi laughed softly. “Of course. Who else?”

“The two of you . . . you’re not even married yet. You don’t have to help.
You have no obligation.” I was still in shock. I wasn’t sure if I was making sense or not, or even if I was being rude. But this was almost as confusing and mind-blowing as the search for Milton Jones.

She squeezed my arm
again. “I told you. You’re like a daughter to me. I want to help.”

“That’s really kind,” I finally said. “But Riley’s right. We can do this on our own.”

“I won’t take no for an answer. We’re buying your dress, at least. You do know that I won Best Gown in the Miss Texas pageant, right? It was back in ‘76, but I still know what a good dress looks like.”

I smiled. My dad had a thing for the beauty pageant types. My mom had won a few titles
herself. At times, I wondered if Mom and Teddi had ever met. I wouldn’t be asking.

Teddi
took a step toward the door. “Monday. We’re going shopping. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

She winked and stepped
closer. Before she strode outside, she leaned closer to me and whispered, “Let your dad pay some for your wedding. It will help him with his guilt.”

B
efore I could say anything else, she left. Riley and I stood there speechless. The wedding was important. I mean, of course it was important! But how could I even begin to think of myself right now when people were in danger?

“That’s really sweet,” Riley
finally said.

I replayed
Teddi’s words over and over in my mind. “I can’t believe my dad wants to pay for something.”

Riley shrugged and pushed one of my curls behind my ear.
“I know we agreed to pay for the wedding on our own, but maybe you should think about it. Maybe your dad is finally trying to make things right.”

My dad? Making things right? It was enough to make my brain nearly freeze up from overload. When I saw that Riley was waiting for my response, I nodded.
“I’ll think about it. No promises, though.”

***

Before making my way upstairs, I decided to step outside and grab my mail. I knew my box was overflowing, because I’d neglected to check it all week.

You never knew what kind of nasty messages or threatening letters might be waiting for you there.
Been there, done that. I’d also been on the receiving end of my father’s bills before. Maybe that subconscious thought was what had prodded me to check now.

We stepped out
side, and I waved at the new officer who’d been assigned to sit outside of my apartment. He waved back from his patrol car. We trotted across the parking lot toward the cluster of mailboxes at the street.

“This is where we first met, you know,” I reminded
Riley as we walked. Probably a bad time to reminisce, but I did it anyway.

He grinned. “Yeah, I know. All because of that parrot up in a Bradford pear tree.”

“I’d just come from a crime scene and I had soot on my face, and my hair had frizzed out because the house I was cleaning was set on fire.” I grinned. “Memories.”

“A year later, and look at us now.”

The trip down memory lane had been a nice distraction, but only for a moment. I leaned toward the mailboxes. Something looked different. Finally, I pointed at Riley’s. “The name from the front of your mailbox is missing.”

Riley peered over my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

I pointed to the empty space below his box number. “I mean, your name is missing. Usually, it’s right there beside mine. Mine is missing too, for that matter.”

“That’s strange.”

I shook my head. Something was bugging me. But what? I needed to figure it out soon. Because the more questions that swirled in my mind, the less peace I had in my life.

Before I had time to figure it out,
Dale pulled up.

There were retail
stores that got less traffic than this apartment building did lately. The difference was that retail stores made a profit. Me? All my money was disappearing with every job I put off. Truth be told: I didn’t even care at the moment.

A few minutes later, I’d put the thoughts of my mailbox aside and went back upstairs.
Dale plopped down at Riley’s dining room table, and Riley went to make a cup of coffee. The detective looked tired, as did everyone who was involved in this investigation. No one was getting any sleep; this case haunted everyone’s nightmares, whether they were investigating it or hearing about it on the news.

I looked down at a note Tim had left on the table. He’d gone to hang out with some friends. That meant we might not hear from him for anywhere from a few hours to a few days. Maybe it was better that he kept himself occupied.

“I don’t suppose you’re interested in going back to your old position out in California? I know they’d take you back in a heartbeat.” Dale stiffly leaned back in his chair. I had a feeling he’d be more comfortable at a bar than at someone’s dining room table.

Riley shook his head
and poured his former colleague a cup of coffee. “No, my life is here.”

Dale
looked over at me. “He was the best prosecutor the office had ever seen.” He took the coffee from Riley and raised his mug in thanks.

“I don’t know if I’d say that,” Riley argued. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall casually. I could see the strain of this
investigation on Riley, also. His eyes had lost their usual brightness, and he’d almost seemed to age before my eyes.

Dale
shook his head. “He’s too humble. You should have seen him in action. Nothing could ruffle him. He was thorough, ethical, and determined.”

“I’m sure everyone’s doing just fine out there without me.”

“Jane Willows just left, you know. They’re looking for someone to fill her position.”

Riley straightened. “Jane left? I thought she’d be a lifer.”

“We all did. Of course, none of us thought you’d turn from pursuing criminal justice to taking social justice cases, either. Just proves you should never assume anything.” Dale took another sip of coffee.