Fred Limberg - First Murder

David Hong, his toothy smile terribly out of place in the sea of sadness, waved at Tony from across the cathedral. He and Hank Swenson were near the back of the church. Tony, stone faced, nodded in reply.

Missing from the scene were Karen and Gary Hewes. Deanna’s best friend was sedated at Regions hospital; still, according to reports, prone to frenzied episodes of screeching and wailing when the drugs wore down. Physically she was fine. Mentally? Ray suspected there was more in play than her recent ordeal but kept his misgivings close for the time being.

Gary Hewes was in jail, but not for long. His lawyers were massaging the judge and the DA’s office and the media for his release. The papers and the TV, reporting on information from Hewes’ attorney and ‘sources close to the investigation’ were hailing his desperate heroic measures in saving his wife from the knife wielding psychopath who was the prime suspect in the Deanna Fredrickson murder investigation.

The three detectives standing together in respectful silence were the investigation, not just ‘close to it’, and not one of them had given the media so much as a crumb.

Tony basked in the praise and congratulations of his fellow officers for closing his first murder in spectacular fashion. Six-plus years on the street and not once had he made the front page of the Trib or the Pioneer Press . They slapped his back and bought him drinks at The Red Door and teased about him being a super sleuth. He’d wallowed in it until Ray had a word with him.

It wasn’t until the casket had been lowered into the grave and the crowd departed that Ray could have a moment with Lakisha. At first Tony held back, intending to give his partner some privacy, but Ray motioned for him to join him.

“Tough day,” Ray said to Lakisha. He had his hands in his overcoat pockets. Lakisha stood close and laid her head on his chest, clutching her own coat closed tight against the cold breath of October’s gray finale. “How you holdin’ up?”

“I’m fine. I think I’m okay.” Ray draped a comforting arm across her shoulder. Lakisha looked up at him, at his solemn face, at his eyes looking off over the cemetery. Tony thought they looked good together and hoped Mr. Marland would stay wherever the hell he was for a long time.

“Is it true what the papers say?” she asked. “That young man Gary shot, did he murder Dee?”

“That’s what a lot of people think. What do you think, Tony?”

Ray shifted his gaze toward his young partner. De Luca just shrugged. He didn’t know, not for sure. A lot of things pointed toward Stuckey. He wanted it to be the case, wanted to be able to close the files and move on but doubt nagged at him so he just shrugged.

Hewes’ lawyers, for all their efforts to convict Stuckey in the press, hadn’t mentioned the most damning evidence the detectives had uncovered. There was no mention of the porn episode. The people ‘close to the investigation’ hadn’t mentioned it either. They couldn’t. The only people who knew about the ‘ UrMoM ’ episodes were Ray, Tony, Carol, Jonny Kumpula, and a pervert named DuPree.

And Karen Hewes.

“Is Karen on any medication?” Ray asked.

“I don’t know. Why?” Lakisha had a puzzled look on her face that mirrored Tony’s. She wondered why Ray wanted to know. Tony wondered why he was just now asking.

“Just thinking about how freaked out she is. Is that normal for her?”

“Why all the questions about Karen, Rayford?” Lakisha squinted at him, her mystery writer’s instincts on high alert.

“Just curious.”

“Uh-huh.”

Ray flashed a quick disarming smile. “You have a ride? Can we drop you somewhere?”

“I’ve got my car. Are you stopping by Tia and Barry’s? Scott still won’t go back to the house. I think he’s going to sell it.”

“Can’t, babe. Urgent police business.”

Tony was grateful for Ray’s lie. He had no desire to eat hot dish and mill around listening to stories about the dead woman all afternoon. Tony was satisfied that they’d gotten far enough into these people’s lives. He nodded to Lakisha and headed for the car, giving them a minute alone together.

“Good one, boss. Urgent police business.”

Ray, behind the wheel, gave Tony a quick knowing glance. “That’s what it is.”

Tony realized they were heading into the heart of Highland Park, toward the Hewes’ house, not toward headquarters. Ray was up to something so Tony settled back into the seat waiting to find out just what.

“Teaching moment coming up.”

“You have a hunch.” Tony phrased it as a statement, not a question.

“I do indeed.”

“You want to snoop around in the Hewes’ house.”

“It’s a crime scene. We have access now and don’t need to bother any judges about a warrant.” Ray had the half-smile going. Tony was a fine pupil and was going to be a top notch detective someday.

“What are we looking for, Obi-Wan?” Tony tented his hands as if in prayer and bowed to Ray. They pulled to the curb in front of the house. Yellow plastic tape fluttered in the wind, advertising the tragedy that had occurred inside the day before. Ray explained his hunch while they walked to the side door.

“The woman bothers me.”

Tony looked over his shoulder. “The husband bothers me. What if he shows up?”

Ray shared a word with the uniformed officer sitting just inside the kitchen while he signed in and looked over the log of people who had visited the crime scene. He was pleased to note that Jonny Kumpula was the senior evidence tech on the case.

Tony wasn’t happy when Ray led him through the master bedroom. The sheets and blankets on the bed were twisted and stained. They looked diseased-crusted and oily. Tony could smell the flu germs mixed with Mentholatum fumes. He could feel them invading his body, waiting to strike, to lay him as low as they had Gary Hewes.

He found Ray examining prescription vials in the medicine cabinet and making notes. He was ignoring Gary’s prescriptions.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked when Ray dumped one vial out on the countertop and counted the pills.

“Math.”

“Math?” Tony watched Ray jot down dates and other numbers next to the pharmaceutical names.

“This might mean something.” Ray held up an amber vial and shook it. Empty.

“What is it?”

“I have no idea, but I know someone who will.”

“Quite a cocktail, Ray. These from the Hewes woman?” Kumpula didn’t miss much.

Ray nodded. “In her medicine cabinet. Do you know what they’re for?”

“From the same doctor?” Kumpula had fired up a computer and was clicking through several medical websites.

“All from the same clinic. Stilnox? Zoloft? Ducene? I’ve heard of Zoloft but I don’t have a clue what it’s for.”

“Same clinic? Same doctor? Then they meant for them to all be used. She’s being treated for a couple of things at least. Let me read here.” Ray stepped back next to Tony.

“What gave you the idea she might be on medication?” Tony was mildly pissed that his partner hadn’t discussed this before. “And when did it click?”

“In the church, actually. She’s not there, supposedly her closest friend’s funeral and she’s strapped to a bed speaking in tongues. So I started thinking about it.”

“You think she snapped?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. She sure didn’t want Stuckey getting a word in. That’s the impression I got.”

Tony thought back to the day before, to the shooting. Karen Hewes had been screaming the whole time they were in the kitchen. The only time Stuckey got a word in was when he covered her mouth.

“Wish we had a tape,” Tony mused. Ray smiled and started to say something when Kumpula interrupted.