Scent of Murder

That drew a grudging laugh out of Caitlin. Compulsively clean Jazzy never went anywhere without a plentiful supply of antibacterial cleaning products. “I’ll call you. Good-bye, Jazzy.”

Caitlin replaced the phone in its cradle on the kitchen wall. Melancholy feelings returned as she glanced around the too-clean kitchen. She’d spent so much time cleaning lately, she could be accused of having germaphobic tendencies herself. But what else did she have to fill her evenings?

Sassy charged into the room and hopped on her hind legs, yapping. At least someone still wants to spend time with me. Caitlin scooped Sassy into her arms and buried her face in the dog’s neck. If a few tears fell into the fuzzy fur, well, it wasn’t the first time.

She carried Sassy into the living room, where her suitcase, flute, and music portfolio stood ready to be loaded into the car. Maybe she ought to do as Jazzy suggested. If she postponed until Friday, she could make the trip with her friends.

But she’d been looking forward to this minivacation for months. Her schedule was clear. She’d told all her students there would be no lessons for the remainder of the week. The deposit had been paid for Sassy to spend five days at Raintree Pet Resort. True, they’d probably let her cancel the first couple of days if she decided to stay home.

But why should she? So she could sit around and feel sorry for herself? She clenched her teeth. Stop it, Caitlin! Her friends’ upcoming weddings were ruining her mood lately. Not that she wasn’t thrilled for Jazzy and Liz, but both of them planning weddings at the same time? That’s all they talked about anymore. If she waited to drive up with them, no doubt the entire three-hour trip to Indiana would be full of wedding talk and plans for happy homemaking. They seemed to forget that while they were busy planning for their new lives, she was being left out in the cold.

Or maybe they just don’t care.

Caitlin thrust the thought away. Of course her friends cared about her. She was just feeling sorry for herself. After all, it hadn’t been so long since she was the only one of the three who even had a steady boyfriend. Oh, how the tables could turn in the span of a single year. Now Jazzy and Liz were both getting married, and she was facing life as an old maid.

The familiar ache in her chest turned to anger and threatened to send more tears into her eyes. If Glenn were here right now she’d…she’d…she’d kick him in the shin, that’s what she’d do. Serve him right, after leading her on for three years and then dumping her for someone else. I wasted the best years of my life. The thought only made her angrier. He’d reduced her to thinking in clichés!

Sassy wriggled around in her arms to lick her face. The attempt to calm her brought a smile to Caitlin’s lips.

“I’ve got to get on with life,” she told the dog. “I’m driving up to Nashville, Indiana, by myself, and I’m going to make myself have a good time. It’ll be like a retreat. I’ll take my bible and spend some serious time in prayer. That’ll give me a new perspective for sure.”

She gave Sassy a final snuggle, then set her on the floor. Standing around here was getting her nowhere. Time to get a move on. In more ways than one.

TWO

Chase leaned against a tree, his face angled away from the activity around the car. The sick knot that had formed in his stomach since the moment he saw the vehicle halfway in the stream refused to let up. Instead, it tightened every time he glanced that way.

The police had closed down this section of the park by stringing yellow tape across the road up above, fifty feet beyond the bridge. He kept his face turned away from that area, too. He’d caught a glimpse of television cameras there, and the last thing he wanted was to be identified on the news as the person who discovered the body of a dead guy. Only a matter of time before some reporter recognized the similarities to last year’s crime, and a little digging would reveal Chase’s involvement with that one, remote though it had been.

The police had certainly already made the connection. He’d given his statement, told them everything he could, but had been informed that he could not leave yet. They were holding him here until he could be questioned by—

The sound of footsteps crunching dead leaves behind him interrupted his thoughts. Chase half turned and caught sight of the approaching plainclothes policeman. His spine stiffened. As he expected, the man who approached was familiar. And unwelcome.

Detective Jenkins.

Jenkins’s gaze locked on Chase as though daring him to turn away. Chase stood his ground and returned the hard stare without flinching.

“Hollister.” The detective’s head dipped in a nod, but his eyes did not release Chase’s. “Been a while.”

“Yes, it has.” Chase was proud that his voice betrayed none of the turmoil he felt. He’d been interrogated last year by Jenkins. Not an experience he cared to repeat, but given the circumstances, he couldn’t see any way to avoid talking with the guy. Chase squared his shoulders. “I guess you want to hear how I found the body.”

Jenkins didn’t answer immediately. In his left hand he clutched a rolled-up sheet of paper, which he tapped on his thigh. His right hand rose to tug a lock of hair behind his ear. Sunlight reflected off a few strands of silver mixed in with the brown that Chase didn’t remember from last year.

Finally, Jenkins gave a slow nod. “Eventually. First, I want to know why you happened to be in the park, at this particular spot—” he gestured vaguely toward the car beneath the bridge “—so early in the morning.”

Chase scuffed the toe of his running shoe in the grass. “I run a few miles every morning before work.”

Jenkins cocked his head. “Don’t you live pretty far from here? Out past that factory your family owns?”

“I drove. No doubt your deputies have already found my car in the parking lot a few miles back.”

The detective’s eyes narrowed. “This is a mighty strange place for a morning run. I’d think you, of all people, would stay as far away from here as possible.”

Chase didn’t reply. What could he say? Jenkins was right. Returning to the place where his best friend had been killed wasn’t just strange. It was downright weird.

After an uncomfortable silence, Jenkins unrolled the paper and scanned it. “I have your statement here. Says you left your house at five this morning, drove to the park, walked from there to here, where you spotted the victim’s vehicle. You tried to open the door, but it was locked. So you backtracked to your car to get your cell phone and called 911.” He raised his eyes from the paper without moving his head. “That right?”

“Yes, except I didn’t backtrack across the trail. I went up on the road and ran to the parking lot because it was faster.”

“Did you get a look at the body?”

Chase closed his eyes. If only he hadn’t. He nodded.

“Recognize him?”

“I—” Chase swallowed. “I don’t think so. I couldn’t see him very well. I mainly saw a lot of blood.”

The image had been burned in his mind’s eye. Kevin’s family had chosen cremation, so Chase’s last memory of his friend was of him waving good-bye as he left the factory after a long day’s work. Only now, Chase’s active imagination put Kevin’s face on that body in the car, the one with the gaping wound in the throat. He doubted he’d ever be able to forget it.

“There’s a lot of blood when a body bleeds out.”

The detective was studying him with an intensity that Chase remembered from last year. He didn’t like it then, either.

“Listen, I’m late for work. Is there anything else you need me for here?”

Jenkins paused. Then he rolled the paper once again into a tube and tapped it against his palm. “Not at the moment. But I’m sure I’m going to have more questions.” His stare grew hard. “You’re not planning to leave town anytime soon, are you?”

Chase’s mouth went dry for the second time that morning. Was he a suspect?

He probably was. Even he had to admit it looked odd for the best friend of one murder victim to find the body of a second victim in the exact same place, murdered in the exact same way. He was lucky Jenkins wasn’t hauling him in and charging him with murder.

Wordlessly, Chase shook his head.

“All right, then you can go.” The detective started to turn away, then stopped. “I’ll be in touch.”

The words sounded like a threat.

Ed dug at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger as he stumbled toward the coffeepot. His wife sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he snapped. “I’m going to be late again.”

She didn’t raise her eyes from her perusal of the paper. “I tried. Three times. Getting you up in the morning after you’ve been out drinking is more like a resurrection than an awakening.” She turned a page. “Besides, it’s not like anybody there’s watching a clock.”

Ed bit back a sharp response as he snatched a cup off the mug tree on the counter and sloshed coffee into it. Better to hold his tongue than to argue with Janie this morning. She’d probably heard him come home last night, though he’d tried to be quiet. But when he’d tripped over the doorjamb and knocked into the hall table, the crash had been loud enough to wake her up. At least she didn’t flip on the light and yell at him when he got into bed, like she did last time. He hadn’t meant to get rough with her, but she ought to know better than to nag him when he’d had a snootful.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. It emphasized the pounding ache in his head. He spoke just to break the silence. “Kids left for school?”

Most mornings, Janie chattered like a monkey. She must be mad at him. He could just see the top of her silver-streaked dark head nod behind the open newspaper.