Casey Mayes - A Killer Column

“What do you have planned?”

“Well, seeing some of the local sights is out. I thought we might do a little digging into Derrick Duncan’s life and see what we turn up. What do you say to that?”

“I’m all for it.”

Chapter 5

THE NEXT MORNING, I FOUND JENNY AT THE KITCHEN table drinking a cup of coffee and looking through the newspaper.

“You’re a star,” she said as she handed me the front page.

I took it and scanned the headline. SYNDICATOR SLAYING A REAL PUZZLE, it said on the front page of the Local section. There was a blown-up photo of Derrick, and below the fold, I was appalled to find headshots of Brady Sims, Sylvia Peters, and me.

“Don’t you love how clever they can be with their headlines,” I said as I handed the paper back to her.

“Wake that husband of yours up and I’ll make us all some breakfast.”

“I’d love to, but he was already gone when I got up,” I said.

“Is he always such an early bird?”

“When he’s working on a case, he barely sleeps at all. Since I’m involved in this, I was surprised he even closed his eyes.”

“It must be nice having him on your side.”

“It is, but it’s great having you there, too. Tell you what. Why don’t I cook for us this morning? It’s the least I can do.”

“Are you saying you don’t like my cooking?” she asked.

“That depends. Have you had any more chance to practice since the last time I stayed with you?”

“Hey, I’ve been trying to make partner. There wasn’t exactly a lot of time to take any cooking classes.”

“I’m not complaining, I’m just offering my services.”

“Then I’ll gladly accept. How about some blueberry pancakes?”

“Do you have the ingredients?” I asked as I headed for the refrigerator.

“I just happened to lay in some supplies yesterday,” she said with a smile.

I laughed as I started measuring the flour and other ingredients and mixing the batter. As I worked, we talked about our plans for the day.

“I don’t see any way around it,” Jenny said as the first pancake hit the griddle. “We have to go to Richmond to Derrick’s home base if we’re going to learn anything about him.”

“I’m guessing Detective Murphy isn’t going to be too thrilled about me leaving town, let alone the state.”

“I could go on my own,” Jenny offered.

“I don’t think so. There’s no way I’m going to put you in jeopardy for my sake.”

“You’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”

I flipped the pancake when tiny bubbles started to form in the batter. “Of course I would.”

“Then it’s not fair to try to keep me from doing the same.” She leaned over and looked at the single pancake browning on the griddle. “Why just one?”

“I always do a test pancake first,” I said.

“Does that mean I can’t have it?”

“It might not be very good,” I admitted. “Sometimes the first ones are real duds.”

She held out her plate. “I’ll take my chances.”

I grabbed a few small pancakes myself as I cooked the rest of the batter, and we were still chatting about our investigation when there was a knock at the front door.

Zach came in, smiling as he smelled the pancakes. “Any chance there are some left for me?”

“I might be able to scrape up enough batter,” I admitted. “You didn’t even leave me a note this morning.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure where I’d be. I found out something interesting, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Feed me first, and then I’ll talk.”

I did as he asked, and after he finished three large pancakes—and the last of the batter—he said, “First off, Murphy’s not a bad cop.”

“I never said that he was,” Jenny answered. “Just a bad boyfriend.”

“Be that as it may, he was willing to open up a little with me.” Zach pointed to me as he added, “You’re no longer their only suspect, if that means anything to you.”

“But I’m still on the list,” I said.

“Hey, I’m good, but nobody’s that good. At least he’s looking beyond the obvious now. I went over our list with him, and he seemed open to it. As a matter of fact, I found out someone else we should be looking at.”

Jenny appeared to have a hard time believing that. “Shawn actually gave you a lead?”

“Not exactly, but I spotted a name on his bulletin board, and there was a line tying it directly to Derrick. Savannah, does the name Mindi Mills mean anything to you?”

“No, why? Should it?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.” He glanced over at the bowl that had once held blueberry pancake batter and saw that it was empty. “No more?”

“No more,” I agreed. “Sorry.”

“I’ve probably had enough, anyway,” he said as he kept staring at the bowl.

Jenny asked, “What now? Savannah and I have been thinking about going to Richmond to see what we can dig up on Derrick.”

“That’s the right idea, but the wrong execution.”

“What do you mean?”

Zach said, “I’m going myself as soon as I grab a few things, but you two have to stay in town.”

“Why do you get to go?” I asked. “You shouldn’t do it alone.”

“Think about it. There’s a good chance Murphy’s going to have an eye on you, but I’m not a suspect in anything. It’s just a few hours’ drive from here. I’ll be back tonight, and then we can compare notes.”

“If you go to Richmond, what are we supposed to do?”

“From what I understand, your fellow columnists are still in town. I suggest you talk to Brady Sims and Sylvia Peters and see just how much they hated Derrick Duncan. Can you do that?”

“Yes, but I still don’t like the idea of you going off on your own.”

My dear husband frowned at me. “Savannah, believe it or not, I’m perfectly capable of watching out for myself.”

I patted his chest where the scar from a bullet remained, but I didn’t say a word.

“That was a fluke, and we both know it,” he said.

“Flukes happen though, don’t they?”

He kissed me quickly, and then said, “You worry too much. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Call me when you get there,” I said.

“Yes, ma’am. I promise.”

After he was gone, I looked at the dirty dishes. “We should do these before we go out.”

“Don’t you just love dishwashers,” Jenny said as she loaded hers up. “The griddle can wait. Why don’t you get dressed, and then we’ll go do a little snooping.”

WHEN WE WALKED OUT OF JENNY’S HOUSE, SOMETHING fell through the door onto her welcome mat. It was a half dozen roses, bloodred and in full bloom.

“It looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” I said, and then I saw Jenny’s frightened face. “Hey, I was just kidding. Are you all right?”

She stared at the flowers, and then at me, before she burst into tears.

“What is it?” I asked her as I led her back inside.

“He’s back,” she said through her tears. “I thought this nightmare was over, but it was too good to be true.”

“Tell me what’s been happening,” I asked as I handed her a nearby box of tissues.

“It started a month ago,” she said once she calmed down enough to speak again. “The first thing I got was a note.”

“What did it say?”

“Hang on, I’ve got it in the other room.” A few seconds later she came back with an orange folder. As she took a note wrapped in cellophane from it, she said, “Read it yourself.”

I picked it up and read.

Why don’t you wear your red blouse anymore?