Рита Браун - The Big Cat Nap

Fortified, he walked out, hopped in his great little car, and headed down the winding drive. His exit was blocked by the Camaro. He saw the familiar face behind the wheel.

He popped it in reverse, but too late. A bullet crashed through the windshield, hitting him in the chest. The pain slowed him enough so the Camaro came up close and the driver finished the job with a second shot, through the heart.

T he ambulance took away Nick’s body as Cooper, Rick, and the crime-scene team carefully combed over Hilary’s place.

“Smart.” Rick stared down at the stone-covered drive next to the STI.

“Smart, and the second murder in two weeks of men who worked at ReNu.” Cooper knelt down. “The killer took his time.”

“Yep.” Rick moved a short distance away from the STI. “We’re dealing with someone who can think ahead, is cool, and can act quickly if need be. So much easier to catch a murderer who kills in a fit of rage.”

“Sure is.” Cooper lightly ran her hands over the stones. “Whoever shot Ashby actually raked this, and raked it deep down, including all the way out to Black Cat Road. Not a chance we’ll get a tire imprint.” She stood up. “And the rake in Hilary’s little garden shed was washed off. No fingerprints.”

Rick smiled ruefully. “Hey, maybe the guy’s a professional gardener and carries his tools.”

“Right.” Coop smiled back at him, then her smile faded. “Where to first? Hilary Larson or Nick’s mom?”

“I’ll send Jarrod over to Mrs. Ashby. He’s good in a situation like this. You and I will find out where Miss Larson works and get ourselves over there.” He sighed. “You know, I’ve had to inform people for decades that someone they love has been killed on the road or died in a brawl. It never gets any easier.”

“Yeah. It’s their shock, that split second of disbelief, that always gets me. This was so cold, so calculated.” She shook her head.

Rick walked over to the squad car, called in to see if anyone there could find where Hilary Larson worked. “Come on.”

Coop hopped into the car with him. “Let’s try the neighbors, okay?”

He turned out of the driveway. They slowly drove down Black Cat Road. They stopped at three places, all off the main drag, for it was a fairly well-traveled road. No one was home; everyone was at work.

They then turned down Mechunk Road. Although this road was more miles from Hilary’s place, someone might know her. Same story, though.

“Remember when this was Route One?” Rick slowed as he reached the end of the road.

“Then the post office changed everything to names. I still remember it by the route numbers and the box numbers. I guess a name is progress.”

“Depends on the name.” Rick smiled.

The dispatcher reached them. “Old Navy. Hilary Larson works at Old Navy in the Barracks Road Shopping Center.”

Rick asked, “How’d you track her down?”

“Well, I couldn’t find anything in the computer other than her address and license-plate number, so I asked around and Sherry, at the front desk, actually knows her. Small world.”

“That’s the truth. Thanks, Marcie,” Rick told the dispatcher as he headed out to Route 64, but he didn’t hit the siren. No need.

The two drove west in companionable silence.

Coop finally broke it. “ReNu is turning into a dangerous place to work.”

“It could be that Walt and Nick were tied in to something outside the business. These days, you never know. Just because people pass blood tests—which Victor informed me the business does randomly—doesn’t mean they aren’t selling drugs.”

“True. Doesn’t feel like that, though, does it?”

“No.”

“Then there’s those racy pictures on Walt’s computer. Could be some kind of sex ring. Remember years ago when I first came on the force, young girls were being recruited from the private school as well as the university?”

“Mmm-hmm. We’ll never completely stop that, you know. Unless someone comes forward, that’s one of the easiest and most lucrative businesses to run. All you need is a telephone and a reliable stable. And it’s true we’re about due for one of those scandals.”

“This isn’t it. Neither of these victims was the type who could organize and operate a high-class call-girl ring. Boy, this is a town that eats up stuff like that.” Coop grimaced.

“They all do. But when you consider the type of high-powered men coming in and out of Charlottesville …” He shrugged. “Easy pickings.”

“I’ve never understood why high-powered women don’t feel entitled to the same benefits.” Coop looked out at the already-rich foliage.

“Do you?”

“God, no. I’d die before I’d pay for sex.”

“Therein lies the difference. In sex, a woman is the center of attention, always and ever. The man has to find her, woo her, court her with goods, or, in the case of the high-class call girls, shell out the bucks. All you ladies have to do is breathe.”

“Guess so, but it’s so … I don’t know. Neither one of us is a prude. We both know how the world works, but to pay for a woman, even a discreet one who comes from an equally discreet service, there’s something deeply creepy about that. To me, anyway.”

“As a man, I can understand it, but I think it’s a little creepy myself.” He pulled in to the parking lot in front of Old Navy. As they walked in to the fairly large store, customers noticed.

Coop motioned for a salesperson to come over. “Could we see the manager, please?”

“Sure.” The young woman led them to a middle-aged woman moving a rack of clothes with another worker.

As quietly as Rick could, he explained they needed to see Hilary Larson in a private space. Always sensitive, Rick asked if there was a good friend or if the manager herself would take Hilary home and someone else would drive her car. He emphasized that the young woman would be hearing some very upsetting news.

The manager, Crystal Hines, nodded and had the good sense not to ask questions. She took them to her small but comfortable office.

“I’ll bring Hilary to you. Can I get you anything? A Coke, some coffee?”

“No, no, thank you.” Rick sat in one chair.

Coop stood, as there were only two chairs in front of the desk.

Mrs. Hines brought the young, attractive woman to her office. She said to Coop, “Sit at my desk. It’s messy. You can’t make it any worse.”

As Mrs. Hines left them all, Coop did just that, taking out her notebook.

Rick’s voice was calm. “Miss Larson, I’m Sheriff Shaw, and this is Deputy Cooper. Please sit down. We have some sad news.”

The pretty redhead was wide-eyed and fearful. She sat across from Rick. “It’s not Daddy, is it? He hasn’t been in an accident?”

“No. It’s Nick Ashby. He was found dead in his car in your driveway.”

She sat upright. “Nicky? What’s happened?”

“He was shot. He’s gone, Miss Larson. I’m sorry.”

“Shot? Why?” Tears came into her eyes; her hands shook.

“Deputy Cooper and I were hoping you might provide some insight.”

She put her head in her hands and shook it.

Coop got up, stood beside the young woman, and put her hand on her shoulder. “If it’s too much, we’ll come back. Someone will drive you home.”

Looking up at the tall woman through tearful blue eyes, Hilary cried out, “I’ll do anything to help. Anything.”

Coop glanced back at the desk, saw a box of tissues, grabbed a few, and handed them to Hilary. She then returned to the desk, picked up her pen.

Rick softly asked, “Did Mr. Ashby ever mention being afraid?”