Chapter Forty-Six
The Mill Village
CJ scanned the living room ceiling again. She’d done this about ten times already. She’d pulled the kitchen table in here and stood on it to inspect the light fixture in case Shelley had gotten more high-tech equipment. She’d checked the smoke detector.
Nothing.
Dammit.
There had to be something.
She bounded up the stairs again and checked the floor over the living room.
Nothing, except a small section of wood floor that had once been removed and then put back into place to add the wiring for the living room light.
She’d taken the crowbar and pulled those boards up.
Nothing but coal dust and the wiring for the light fixture.
Slowly, inch by inch, foot by foot, she checked the floor of what had once been her parents’ bedroom.
This was ridiculous. She had to hurry. When Braddock got out of that meeting with the chief, he would come looking for her. He’d told her to stay put at the precinct, but she couldn’t. She had to know if there was another piece of equipment in this house that used a remote.
Jenkins had followed her here. He’d probably already informed Braddock what she was up to. Time was likely shorter than she knew.
She trudged back downstairs. Checked the doors again, since dusk was falling. Front and back were locked. She’d shoved a piece of furniture in front of each to give her warning if anyone tried to force their way in.
Cost had probably been released by now. Tyrone, to her knowledge, had not been found. He was wanted for questioning. Braddock told her that Tyrone had his sources within HPD. Someone had no doubt given him a heads-up hours ago.
As bad as she felt for Juanita, CJ couldn’t help regretting that she hadn’t been able to go through with her meeting with Tyrone.
She’d called his cell half a dozen times.
The idea of going over to his house had even crossed her mind.
But he wasn’t a fool; he wouldn’t be there.
The King was no doubt in hiding. But if this was ever going to be over, CJ needed whatever information he had.
She dropped on the sofa and heaved a disgusted sigh. She was getting nowhere here.
Cost’s attorney had scheduled a polygraph to back up her client’s statement.
CJ didn’t need a polygraph to know Cost hadn’t killed anyone.
Carter didn’t have it in him. Of course, drug abuse could make a person do things he or she wouldn’t ordinarily do.
Still, she couldn’t get right with that scenario.
Tyrone was her prime suspect. He would kill his own mother if she got in his way.
The whole E. Noon / No One theory was in all probability his way of casting doubt on his guilt.
To the powers that be, killing on the west side of the Parkway was one thing.
But to kill a member of the medical community was another.
Juanita’s murder would receive far more media attention.
But why had he killed her? All her collected evidence so far had nothing to do with Tyrone and everything to do with Cost. Maybe, considering he’d known about Carter and Shelley, Tyrone had intended to make Cost look like the killer all along.
Braddock had suggested that scenario. Cooper wasn’t buying it.
She felt there was something more going on.
Something that hadn’t been revealed just yet.
Braddock just wanted it to be Tyrone.
Maybe CJ did too.
Two more weeks and she had to be back in Baltimore. Shelley’s memorial service needed to be arranged. It would seriously help if people would stop dying.
A rap on the door jerked her attention in that direction. She pushed up, walked soundlessly to the window to see who was at the door. No one knew she was here. She’d hidden her rental in the alley.
Edward.
Relief sagged her shoulders. She really did need to get a handle on her nerves. She was a mess.
She pushed the chair out of the way and opened the door. “Edward, how did you know I was here?” He stood on her porch looking regal as ever and sporting a brown shopping bag, the kind with handles.
“Certainly not because you’re answering your cell phone,” he chastised gently.
She patted her pockets. Where was her phone? “I’m sorry. It’s around here somewhere. Probably still on silent.” She’d had to silence it at the precinct. “Come in.” She ushered him inside. “What’s in the bag?”
“Dinner.” He turned the bag so she could see the restaurant logo. “Since you forget to eat far too often, I felt confident that it was a safe wager you hadn’t eaten this evening.”
The relief she’d felt at seeing Edward at her door flooded her twofold. “You always take such good care of me.” She glanced around the room. She’d made quite the mess. “Sorry for the disorder.”
“You’re looking for another camera or VCR?”
She’d told him already about Cost’s interrogation. “It’s probably a waste of time, but I had to try.”
“Of course you did.” He set the bag on the coffee table, and this time he did the ushering. “Eat. The summer salad is your favorite.” He smiled as he settled next to her. “Strawberries and pecans included.”
“You’d make the perfect husband,” she teased. “Thoughtful.” He blushed. “Always ready to defend my honor. And even though you didn’t prepare this yourself”—she dug into the bag—“you’re an amazing cook.”
“Chef,” he reminded.
“Sorry.” She sent him a sidelong glance. “Chef.”
The dressing was light yet creamy. Had her taste buds exploding. “Hmmm.”
“Indeed,” he agreed.
“Edward.” She turned to him. “Do you remember the first day we met?”
He thought about it a moment, then smiled. “I do. You were trying to drag Shelley into the children’s section of the library. She clearly was not pleased.”
Fragments of the memory whispered through CJ’s mind and she smiled. “She wanted to . . .” She shook her head. “She wanted to be someplace else.”
“The park.”
“That’s it.” She shook her head. “You remember! She pitched such a fit. Everyone in the library was staring.”
“When I promised to buy the two of you ice cream, Shelley had a change of heart.”
Now she remembered. “You walked with us to the ice cream shop where the Medical Plaza is now.”
“I did. You interrogated me the entire distance.”
Another smile tugged at her lips. “You were a stranger. A girl couldn’t be too careful.”
“Yes, we discussed that issue over scoops of triple chocolate chip.”
“Whenever we needed anything, you were there.” CJ let the flood of memories she’d been holding back wash over her. “Every August before school started, packages of clothes would be delivered to our door. You always swore you weren’t the one who sent them, but I knew better.”
“Then you grew up and I had to resort to gift cards.”
There was a question she’d thought of asking him many times, but she’d never worked up the nerve, or maybe the time had never been right.
“Edward, are Shelley and I the reason you never married? I’d hate to think we prevented you from having a full life of your own.” God knows they’d kept him busy fixing their problems.
He set his own salad bowl and fork aside.
“CJ.” He touched her cheek so very gently.
She leaned into the touch. “You and Shelley were and still are my family. You, in particular, have made my life abundantly full. Don’t ever think for a moment that you and your sister have been anything but a treasured part of my existence. ”
CJ reached over, hugged him. She didn’t care that her salad bowl tilted precariously in her lap.
They finished their dinner in silence. The blissful feeling faded and her thoughts returned to the investigation.
She needed to find any other tapes that might be here.
If Nash disappeared or destroyed the tape he had in his possession, they might never know the truth.
But then, maybe the tape showed nothing relevant except the confrontation with Cost.
Edward set his bowl aside once more; this time it was empty. She placed hers beside his. She’d devoured every crisp, tart bite.
“I have no plans this evening,” he announced as he stood. “I’d like very much to help you search.”
She started to say no, but a fresh set of eyes could prove useful. “That would be great.” She hesitated. “If you’re sure.” She pushed her weary body off the sofa.
“I’m absolutely positive.”
“I’ve basically torn the upstairs apart,” she confessed. “Including any suspicious-looking spots in the floor. If there’s another piece of equipment, it has to be somewhere down here.”
“You said Dr. Cost mentioned a remote,” Edward noted. “That would mean the most likely place was in this room.”
“True, except the one for that old set was lost ages ago. I guess she might have found it.” CJ propped her hands on her hips. “But I’ve searched every square inch of the walls and there are no holes that would provide the necessary view for the camera lens.”
He surveyed the room. “What about the bookshelves?” He nodded toward the pair of bookshelves that flanked the century-old coal fireplace.
“I pulled everything off the shelves. Didn’t find anything.”
He walked the length of the room. Considered the options. “What about the furniture? The television?”
“I checked the television.” It was one of the old floor models from the seventies. It was a miracle it still worked. “I even removed the back panel.”
He carefully surveyed the sofa. She tried not to look guilty considering what she’d done on that sofa. Edward moved to the chairs in the room, checked those as well.
Then he took a moment, turning around slowly to consider the room. “Perhaps the VCR is in the crawl space under the floor.”
“Already thought of that. It’s not.”
“What about the fireplace?” He started in that direction. “Did you inspect it closely?”
“I looked, but it’s a disaster. I don’t see how an electronic device could survive in there.”
“Well.” He crouched down. “We’ll see.”
CJ was reasonably sure the fallen bricks and mortar piled atop the coal basket had been there a few decades. “I’ll get a trash bag.”
Edward started to pick through the rubble. “That would be a good idea.”