Shades of Murder (The Mac Faraday Mysteries) (6 page)

When he woke up that first morning, Joshua thought about Reverend Brody’s request for him to visit Oliver Cartwright in prison. He hemmed-and hawed before finally agreeing at the last minute to go. He’d feel guilty if he didn’t.

Joshua wasn’t going to embark on this investigation so much for Oliver Cartwright as he was for Jane Doe’s family. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Jane Doe was one of his two daughters, and he didn’t know what had happened to her.

Modern technology had become a Godsend. While drinking a cup of coffee at Starbucks, Joshua searched the Internet on his smart phone to find the names of the lead investigating officers in the Oliver Cartwright murders. Lieutenant Hank Gregory, the lead officer, had died. The second lead investigator, Detective Cameron Gates was stationed at the state police barracks in Gibsonia, Pennsylvania, off Interstate 79.

Within two hours of leaving Waynesburg, Joshua pulled his SUV into the police barracks, in hopes of having a sit down with the homicide detective. At least, that was his hope.

As expected, the state police barracks was more spacious and contained most of the coveted conveniences of modern technology. It was a big step up from Hancock County’s small Sheriff Department.

After being directed to the homicide section, Joshua was greeted by an obese woman with dark shaggy hair and bangs that fell into her black eyes. On her way out, she made a U-turn on the other side of the door to follow him into the squad room. “May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Detective Cameron Gates,” Joshua answered her.

“Who’s asking?” Licking her lips, she looked him up and down.

Behind her, Joshua saw another woman watching him from behind her desk. Her short wavy audburn hair and tan jacket gave her a casual youthful appearance. She flashed him a wide grin that pushed her laugh lines up to frame her greenish-brown eyes. For most women, the wrinkles that come with age would be considered unattractive. Hers served to accentuate her high cheekbones.

Her grin was welcoming, while that of the short woman blocking his path resembled the sneer of a predator spotting her next conquest. Tapping the end of a cigarette on a black leather case, she undressed the man with silver wavy hair with her eyes.

He handed her his business card, which she read out loud. “Joshua Thornton, County Prosecuting Attorney, Hancock County, West Virginia.” Her big, grating, voice drew the unwanted attention of anyone who had not noticed them before. “So, Joshua Thornton, what brings you here from West-By-God-Virginia?” Laughing at what he did not know, she turned around for applause from the others in the squad room.

Judging by the amusement of everyone, except the pretty woman, the fat cigarette smoker was someone of authority.

“The Oliver Cartwright case,” he told her without humor.

The laughter stopped.

The grin fell from the smoker’s round face. “Are you his attorney?”

“No,” Joshua replied. “I’m here to ask questions about the victim he wasn’t charged for killing. Jane Doe. Victim Number Four.”

The pretty woman was now sitting up tall in her seat.

“You’ve come to the wrong place, Joshua Thornton,” the smoker said.

“This precinct has the lead on Jane Doe’s case. It’s never been closed.”

“Unofficially, it’s closed,” she argued. “Everyone knows Oliver Cartwright killed her.”

“If he killed her why wasn’t her murder brought up at his trial?” he countered. “Was it because you had evidence to prove he didn’t kill her? Evidence that could lead to identifying her and finding her real killer? That’s why the prosecutors steered clear of even mentioning her to the jury. If they had, the defense would have been able to make a case for reasonable doubt.”

“There was no doubt,” the smoker yelled. “He was tried and convicted. He confessed.”

“Not to killing Jane Doe!” Joshua felt conviction that hadn’t been there before for finding out the truth about Jane Doe’s murder. Any uncertainty he had felt before about the killer’s innocence in this murder was now gone. “That’s why I’m here.”

She laughed. “To help a serial rapist and killer?”

Grins came to the faces of those around her, but not on the face of the pretty woman. Her mouth was tight. Joshua sensed that her heart was pumping as hard as his.

“No, to help a murder victim.”

“Well, you’re not getting it here.” She ripped his business card in half and tossed it in the direction of a trash can. “I know your game. You prove Cartwright didn’t kill Jane Doe, and then you make a case that he was wrongly convicted; and, the next thing you know, he’s out. I won’t have any part in it.”

“Cartwright was never charged with killing Jane Doe,” Joshua argued. “Finding out who killed her won’t have any bearing on getting him out, which he won’t since he’s not seeking an appeal.”

“Get out of here!”

Any possible unwanted attraction the fat smoker may have had for him when he first walked in was now gone. Her eyes glaring, she rushed to close up the small bit of space between them, thrust her double chin at him, and pointed a flabby arm towards the door.

As ugly as Joshua had found her before, she was even more so up close. The glares he saw on the rest of the faces in the squad room indicated that there was no hope for any of them coming to his defense. Even the pretty woman was no longer at her desk.

With a shake of his head, Joshua left.

Joshua’s cell phone was vibrating on his hip before he reached the car.

“Have you had lunch yet, Joshua Thornton?” Her tone was much more pleasant than that of the fat smoker.

The question reminded him that he had left for the prison early that morning with nothing more than a pot of coffee. His stomach rumbled. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” she said in a low voice like a kidnapper relaying a ransom pick up. “Pull out of the barracks and turn right. Take the William Flynn Highway for ten-point-two miles. When you come to the fork, stay to the left. Stay on the Pennsylvania 28 South to Pittsburgh. Keep right at the fork and merge onto 279 South and then take Interstate 376 West. Take exit 68 at Parkway Center Drive. There’s a burger joint off on the left. They have a drive-thru. Get me a double cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, and only a swipe of mayo. Only a swipe. If I so much as see a drop of mayo, we’re through. I want you to also order a large waffle fries with seasoned salt, a chocolate milkshake, and a small skim milk. It has to be fat-free. Milk with fat gives Irving gas. Oh, and don’t forget the straw and napkins.”

Joshua was smiling. “Light on the mayo. Waffle fries with seasoned salt. Chocolate milkshake. Fat-free milk. Fat gives Irving gas.—Who’s Irving?”

“My partner,” she answered. “Feel free to get something for yourself. You’re buying. When you come out of the burger joint, turn right and get on Greentree Road. When you come to a fork, bare to the right onto Ridgemont Drive.—”

“Is this a joke?” Joshua yanked open the door to the glove compartment for a pen and paper.

“No,” she replied. “When you come to Springfield Street turn right. Take the first left onto New York Street and follow that all the way to a dead end. You’ll end at a hay field with clover. You’ll know you’re at the right place when you see an abandoned barn with a Mail Pouch sign painted on the side … unless it’s blown down since the murder, in which case you won’t see it, and will have to assume you’re at the right spot. Meet me there in forty-five minutes. Don’t be late.”

“What if I am?”

“I’ll faint from hunger and you’ll need to give me mouth-to-mouth to revive me.” She was still laughing when she hung up the phone.

Joshua stared at the phone in his hand. She reminded him of someone. Both her laugh and the warm feeling in his heart when he heard it. It was an eerily familiar feeling that made him wonder if he knew her from someplace.

When he hung up, he thought of how pretty she looked sitting behind the desk.
Oh, how sweet it would be to give her mouth-to-mouth rescusitation.
Turning the key to start the engine in his car, he almost hoped she would be unconscious from hunger when he met her.

It wasn’t until Joshua was waiting for their burgers and fries in the drive thru that the thought crossed his mind,
Suppose the caller wasn’t the pretty woman? Suppose she turns out to be some lunatic even uglier than the fat smoker?

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.”