MURDER!

BY

DONALD WELLS

Also by Donald Wells

Blue Steele

Blue Steele - Bounty Hunter

Blue Steele - Broken

Blue Steele - Vengeance

Blue Steele - That Which Doesn't Kill Me

Blue Steele - On The Hunt

Blue Steele - First Capture

Caliber Detective Agency

Caliber Detective Agency - Generations

Caliber Detective Agency - Temptation

Caliber Detective Agency - A Ransom Paid In Blood

Caliber Detective Agency - Missing

Caliber Detective Agency - Deception

Caliber Detective Agency - Crucible

Parker & Knight

Murder!

The Reynolds Family Saga

The Many And The One

Sins & Second Chances

Dry Adultery, Wet Ambition

Of Tongue And Pen

All Good Things...

Little White Sins

Everything New Is Old Again

The Light Of Darkness

Standalone

Redemption

Double or Nothing

The Fix-It Man

Watch for more at Donald Wells’s site.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Also By Donald Wells

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About The Author

COPYRIGHT

Further Reading: Homicide!

About the Author

1

Detective Rick Parker looked down at the tile floor and thought one word.

Murder!

He was on the fifth floor of a recently built office complex in the company of his wife and was about to sit around with a group of strangers and discuss the details of his personal life.

Murder, pure murder,

Relational Group Therapy for Couples is what they called it, but Parker thought that he’d rather be in a dark alley facing a loaded gun.

He was seated in a semi-circle of people with his wife at his right, and they were one of four couples. The doctor, a psychiatrist named Arnie Stahl, sat at the front facing the group. Parker saw that there were still two empty seats and he guessed that there would be another couple joining the group. It was July and the air-conditioning was at full blast to fight off the outside temperatures, which for the last few days had been hovering in the mid-nineties.

Despite the heat, Parker wore a blue summer-weight sport coat. It hid the gun on his belt, and he never went without one if he could help it.

The Couples Therapist, Doctor Stahl, looked every bit of what he was. Stahl was fifty-four, of average height and size with sympathetic brown eyes and thinning brown hair. His wire rim glasses sparkled beneath the harsh glare of the fluorescent lighting, and the beige carpet made his complexion look even paler than usual.

Parker also looked every bit of what he was, a cop.

No one ever took the large man for anything other than a cop and it was a source of frustration to him when he was a young officer in Philadelphia, because back then all he wanted to do was work undercover narcotics.

He grew his raven hair long, added a beard and dressed, “street” and still he looked more like a cop than the veterans at his precinct.

The problem was his eyes. He had always, and would always have a cop’s watchful, stony gaze and there wasn’t a thing to be done about it, although, someone once quipped that he could don dark glasses and go undercover as a blind drug dealer. The quip did not amuse Parker.

Now, at forty, Philadelphia and thoughts of going undercover were long behind him. He was a detective on the Washington New Jersey Police Force and had grown to love the town, a town that was quickly on its way to becoming a city.

The town had been a sleepy little place until 9/11, but in the aftermath of those tragic events a native son, Bart Bennett, returned to town from Manhattan, and within three years he had converted his family’s farm into a corporate campus, and had built a new factory on land that had been the old town dump.

Soon, farm after farm was being sold off so that new apartment complexes and single-family homes could be built, and what had been a population of several thousand multiplied quickly.

As always, more people meant more problems, and sometimes those problems were of a criminal nature, and so the town began hiring more cops.

Parker saw it as an opportunity to leave Philadelphia, a city he had grown disenchanted with, and start fresh in New Jersey. The Washington force jumped at the chance to hire him and when the town had its first murder in over thirty years, it was Rick Parker who was chosen to investigate it.

Parker solved that case and the three that have happened since and now he was technically the lone homicide detective on the Washington Police Force, although, his regular duties were of the more mundane variety. There was also a search on for another cop with Parker’s experience, and several candidates had applied and been interviewed.

His wife, Rachel, gave his big hand a squeeze and Parker took his eyes from the carpet and looked into hers.

“I appreciate you doing this. I know it’s not easy for you,” she said.

Rachel Parker was ten years younger than her husband. A petite blonde with turquoise eyes and a wide smile, it was Rachel who broke the marriage vows when she had an affair earlier in the year.

When Parker discovered the betrayal, it wounded him to his core, but he loved his wife, eventually forgave her, and told her that he would do anything to heal their marriage.

Rachel had categorized the affair as a, “stupid mistake” and the two of them entered couples’ therapy with Dr. Stahl. That was over six months ago, six months of sessions that revealed Rachel’s neediness and Parker’s bent toward autonomy.

Rachel worked as a nurse, an RN, and did the food shopping, but that was the extent of her contribution to the household, and while he knew every detail about her job and the people she worked with, he never spoke of anything work related and relaxed by taking long runs or woodworking in the basement.

Rachel complained that Parker never opened up to her about his feelings while Parker revealed that he sometimes felt more like Rachel’s father than her husband, because he handled everything in their marriage, from finances to planning vacations, everything fell on his shoulders.

Those revelations and insights came hard, and now Dr. Stahl wanted them to sit in a room of strangers and speak about private pain. Parker would do it. If it meant saving his marriage he would do it, because he knew one thing above all others, he loved his wife.

Parker stared into Rachel’s eyes.

“Easy or hard, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you know?”

Rachel smiled. “I know.”

The room they sat in was rectangular with the wallboard painted a soothing blue, but there was a glass door that led to the hallway, and when Parker looked through it and saw who was walking their way, his eyes turned to slits.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

Rachel followed his gaze and gasped. “Oh no,”

Walking towards the therapy room was the man Rachel had her affair with, Timothy Hearn. At twenty-eight, Hearn was even younger than Rachel and his beach boy good looks and brilliant blue eyes attracted more women than Parker’s handsome, but stony, face ever would.

Hearn’s income also dwarfed Parker’s as his family had deep roots in the area and owned several businesses.

Walking beside Hearn was his wife, Emily; it was Emily who had made Parker aware of his wife’s infidelity, and he knew that she hated Rachel.

Hearn opened the door, stepped in behind his wife, and then looked shocked as he spotted Rachel.

Emily Hearn pointed at Rachel. She was a dark-haired beauty with a slim, but shapely figure.

“What is your whore doing here?”

Hearn looked flabbergasted, and Parker was relieved to see that Rachel did as well; apparently, neither knew that the other would be present.

Dr. Stahl shot up from his chair and went to Emily.

“Mrs. Hearn, Emily, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? I come here to save my marriage and I find my husband’s whore staring at me, that’s what’s wrong.”

Parker winced at Emily’s use of the word, whore, but understood the bitterness behind it. He had thought of Hearn in far less flattering terms and was currently fighting the impulse to punch the man in the face, as he had when he found out about the affair.

Dr. Stahl’s head was swiveling back and forth between Rachel and Timothy Hearn as a sickening realization came upon him.

“Oh God, are you telling me that Rachel is the woman your husband had the affair with?”

“Affair? It wasn’t an affair. They fucked, doctor, they snuck off whenever they could and they fucked. Why the hell is that bitch here?”

The doctor looked as if he wanted to cry as he answered.

“I apologize deeply. This is a terrible twist of fate and nothing more, you see, I’ve been treating both you and your husband and the Parkers over the last few months, but because you’ve only used first names I—oh no, there’s no excuse for this and all four of you have my sincere apology.”

“You scheduled us in the same group?” Rachel said.

“Yes.” Stahl nodded. “As I said, it’s all just a terrible twist of fate, but I’ll rectify it. There are other groups that I can suggest.”

Emily looked up at her husband.

“You knew this bitch would be here, didn’t you?”

Hearn jerked his eyes from Rachel. He had been staring at her when his wife spoke.

“No... no, I, I didn’t know. Like the doctor said, a twist of fate,”

When Hearn stopped talking, he went back to staring at Rachel.

“How have you been? You look good.”

Parker stepped in front of Rachel, blocking Hearn’s view.

“Take your wife and head for the elevator, now.”

Hearn laughed.

“Is that an order, Officer? You know you’re lucky that Rachel talked me out of filing assault charges against you.”

Parker stepped closer.

“Leave now, or I just might press my luck.”

“Is that a threat?”

Parker reached out and grabbed a fistful of Hearn’s shirt, but Rachel clutched his wrist.

“Let him go, Rick. He hasn’t done anything, like the doctor said, this is all a big mistake.”

“Whore!” Emily shouted, practically screaming the word into Rachel’s ear.

Parker let go of Hearn and guided Rachel away from the woman.

“Just leave, the two of you,”

Dr. Stahl began herding Emily toward the door.

“Yes, please leave, I’ll call later and we’ll discuss our options.”

Emily went out into the hall in a huff, but Hearn turned in the doorway to stare back at Rachel.

“You look good, very good,”

Parker went for him, but Dr. Stahl got between them and slammed the door on Hearn.

Parker turned around to find the other three couples in the room staring at him, but when he looked at his wife, he saw that her eyes were gazing through the glass door, watching Hearn’s departure.

Four days later, he came home to find a note telling him that she had run off with Timothy Hearn.

2

Six weeks later.

The girl laying on her side atop the entryway floor was dead, but there was little blood and Parker thought that the murder must have taken place very recently.

The girl, woman actually, given that the ID in her purse gave her age as nineteen, and it also told him that her address was the house next door.

Her name was Tiffany Grace, and she had bled from a wound on her left side, but because of the sparse amount of blood, Parker suspected that the murder weapon had pierced her heart, ending her life, and stopping the flow of blood.

The girl was a looker, Parker thought.

Tiffany Grace had been five-foot-three and weighed 112 lbs. The blond hair looked natural and her wide-opened eyes were still blue, although there was no sheen upon them. They looked like the dusty eyes of a doll whose owner had outgrown her.

Tiffany had been wearing white cotton shorts and the contrast with her tanned flesh was stark, even in death. Her halter top was an emerald green that left her flat stomach bare, lying down as she was, her breasts had slid nearly free of the fabric and above her left nipple was the tiny tattoo of a heart .

The colors were vibrant and the tattoo looked new, but then, the girl had been vibrant and new.

Parker turned to the crime scene photographer who was also the coroner’s assistant, a young, black woman named Stella Harvey.

“I’ll need a close-up of that tattoo on her breast, and any other ones you guys find.”

Stella nodded, and Parker thought that she looked shaken.

“You okay, Stella?”

“Yeah, it’s just that she looks like a friend of mine. It’s not her, and she’s younger than my friend, but the resemblance... it’s a little creepy.”

“Yeah, I’ve had that happen to me once or twice. When’s Colton getting here?”

Colton was Jasper Colton, a retired general practitioner who worked as the town’s coroner.

“Jasper’s letting me go solo on this one.” Stella said.

Parker looked at her in surprise.

“I thought you had to be a doctor to be a coroner?”

“You don’t have to be a doctor to be a coroner, that’s only for M.E.’s, but I am a doctor, I received my degree two weeks ago.”

“Get the hell out of here; you’re too young to be a doctor.”

Stella laughed. “How old do you think I am, Rick?”

Parker shrugged. “Twenty-three, twenty-four?”

“I’m thirty-one, and if I hadn’t wasted time at law school I would have been a doctor years ago.”

Parker stared at her. Stella Harvey was shapely and as fit as anyone he knew. He’d seen her running in the park often, while he had been putting in his own miles. Her brown eyes were large and devoid of surrounding wrinkles and the only lines on her face could be classified as laugh lines.

“Damn Stella, I thought you were just a kid. Should I start calling you Dr. Harvey?”

“Yeah, right after I begin calling you Detective Parker, for now, let’s keep it Stella and Rick,”

“All right; and when can I expect the autopsy?”

“There are two ahead of her from that car wreck last night out on I-95, but I think Colton will let me put her to the front of the line. He’ll also be assisting me, in case you’re worried.”

“I wasn’t worried. If Colton thinks you’re ready then that’s good enough for me, but excuse me, I think it’s time I go and talk to the homeowners.”

“You mean suspects, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess in this instance they’re one and the same.”

The homeowners were Alex and Mandy Kent, and it wasn’t lost on Parker that either one or both of the Kents probably murdered Tiffany, since the killer had reset the home’s burglar alarm upon leaving. Whoever killed the girl was very familiar with the house.

The house was part of the old Washington, the picturesque town. It had been built back in the 1950’s and kept in good shape by the Kents.

The home and its neighbors had once been as alike as a batch of chocolate chip cookies. The developer that built them had used the same basic theme. When first built, they were a line of two-story rectangular boxes with brick at their base and aluminum siding over the rest. It wouldn’t have surprised Parker to learn that they had all been the same color.

The past sixty or so years had wrought changes on the homes however, and now they were as different as their underlying sameness would allow.

Some homes had decks or pools out back while others had squat additions that likely housed another bedroom or a home office. Aluminum siding was still dominant on most, but the shades and styles varied greatly and were interspersed among neighbors who preferred stucco, and one or two had even applied cedar shingles.

Landscaping also set the homes apart, and especially so in the case of the Kent home. The lawn was a green wonder and sat behind manicured hedges. Even the trees looked manicured, or at least well-trimmed and Parker had taken a quick look at the large garden in the back, as well as the oversized shed.

The inside of the medium-sized home was richly decorated and the flat screen bolted to the living room wall was one of the biggest televisions that Parker had ever seen.

The house said middle-class, but the Kents had money, the two late model, luxury cars told you that before you ever stepped inside, but they also had a dead woman lying just inside their front door, and Parker intended to find out who killed her.

Parker walked into the dining room and found Alex and Mandy Kent seated at opposite ends of a table that could seat eight. The physical distance was a telltale sign of trouble in a marriage that Parker knew well.

When he had first learned of his wife’s betrayal with Timothy Hearn, he found himself steering clear of her, despite the fact that he still loved her. It had taken a few days for him to get over the hurt, and he wondered if the Kents were going through a similar thing, and if so, was the victim, Tiffany Grace, a contributing factor.

Parker said nothing for a moment, but just let his eyes take in the couple.

Alex Kent was handsome, in his late-thirties with dark hair and a tall, athletic build. His blue eyes met Parker’s dark gaze without hesitation and held a look of worry. Kent was wearing a pair of chinos with a green polo shirt and, beneath the table, Parker saw that his feet were clad in sneakers.

Kent’s wife, Mandy, was also in her late-thirties. She was wearing a dark green pantsuit, business attire, along with a touch of make-up and shoes with two-inch heels. Mandy Kent was a good-looking woman, short, with dark hair and green eyes, although she seemed to be slightly overweight.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kent, my name is Detective Parker.”

After introducing himself, Parker grew quiet to see if either of them would speak, but they just stared at him.

He once introduced himself to a so-called innocent bystander and the man babbled at him non-stop for ten minutes, ten minutes in which he described how he had killed the victim and why.

Ever since that day, Parker paused for a moment after introducing himself. You never knew when lightning would strike twice.

He took out his notebook and sat down, but as he went to open his mouth again, his phone rang. When he looked at the caller ID, he saw that it was his boss, the chief of police calling.

“Excuse me,” Parker said, and then he stepped back out of the room and into a short hallway. “What’s up, Gabe?”

The voice on the other end of the line sounded more like a college professor than a cop, and belonged to Chief of Police Gabe Howard.

“Rick, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I wanted to let you know that you’ll be joined there soon by Detective Knight.”

“Joanna Knight? But I thought she didn’t start until Monday?”

“That was the plan, but she heard about the murder and volunteered to start early.”

“She sounds eager.”

“That’s good, right?”

“It can be, and given her reputation I’d say that it was. How soon can I expect her?”

“Any minute I would guess.”

“Fine,”

“Treat her well, and, let me know how she does.”

“I’ll do both, Gabe.”

“Right, talk to you later.”

Parker put his phone away and walked back out towards the body. When he got there, he saw that Joanna Knight had already arrived and was crouched down and studying Tiffany Grace’s body.

Parker watched her for a moment, taking her in. He had met her briefly on the day she was first interviewed and liked what he saw. Knight’s reputation was as good as his own and, like himself, she had worked homicide before.

Knight had been a cop in Trenton for twelve years and a homicide detective for five of those. Joanna Knight was a light-skinned black woman, tall, with dark-brown hair that framed a beautiful face. She looked her age, thirty-six, and her brown eyes held flecks of green and gold in them that only added to her good looks.

Parker smiled. There was worse duty than being partnered with a beautiful woman, and his last partner had been a washed-up male cop who smoked and smelled of garlic.

Knight stood, and as she did so, she spotted Parker and nodded.

Parker called to her.

“How’s it going, Partner?”

Knight grinned. “I’m good, Detective, how about you?”

Parker walked up to her and offered his hand.

“It’s Rick, and I hope I can call you Joanna?”

“Actually, my friends call me Jo, Rick,”

“Then Jo it is, so, what’s your take so far?”

Knight sighed.

“My first thought is that this child was too young to die, but my second thought is that it was obviously a murder, although there’s no murder weapon present.”

“Oh, we have the murder weapon. It was found lying in the kitchen sink.”

“You’re kidding, what is it?”

“A letter opener, long, thin, and sharp, with a wooden handle,”

Knight nodded.

“The length would explain the punctured heart, but make my day and tell me there were prints found on it.”

“Sorry Partner, no prints, it looks like someone ran hot water over it after they tossed it in the sink, but the coroner is certain it’s what killed her.”

“Have you done any interviews yet?”

“No, once I heard you were coming I decided to wait.”

Knight smiled.

“Excellent, I love doing interviews, as long as they’re not bereaved relatives.”

“Then let’s get started.”

3

When Parker returned to the dining room with Knight, the Kents were in the midst of an argument, but stopped talking the moment the two detectives walked into the room.

Parker repeated his name and introduced Knight, before opening his notebook and looking towards Alex Kent.

“What was your relationship with the deceased, Mr. Kent?”

Kent looked taken aback by the simple question.

“Relationship? There was no relationship, she just babysit our daughter sometimes.”

Parker heard an evasive tone behind the words, he also heard Mandy Kent make a derisive sound under her breath.

“Mrs. Kent, do you disagree with what your husband just said?”

Mandy Kent smirked.

“Oh, no, Tiffany used to babysit for us, that is, when she wasn’t busy sleeping with Alex.”

Alex Kent slammed a fist on the tabletop.

“I never slept with that girl! How many times do I have to say it?”

His wife waved a hand at him and crossed her arms over her chest. The movement stirred the air around her and Parker caught a faint scent of liquor.

Parker looked over at Knight and saw an impassive face. He liked that, it meant that she was taking it all in without letting her opinion show. He then spoke to Mandy Kent.

“What was your relationship with Tiffany Grace?”

“There was no relationship. She babysat for a while, but when I found out about her and Alex I fired her.”

Kent opened his mouth to deny the affair and Parker pointed at him.

“Please be quiet sir, you’ll get your chance to talk after I’m done with your wife, okay?”

Kent nodded, but appeared sulky, and Parker went back to questioning Mandy Kent.

“I assume that you confronted Ms. Grace when you suspected that she was involved with your husband, yes?”

Mandy Kent unfolded her arms and sat up straight.

“I didn’t kill that girl, Inspector. I called her a few choice names when I found out about her and Alex, but I wouldn’t kill her.”

“It’s detective, ma’am, not inspector, and no one is accusing you at the moment. Right now, Detective Knight and I are just out to gather facts. Now, this alleged affair, when did it take place?”

“Alleged? Are you on his side?”

“I’m on Tiffany Grace’s side and Detective Knight and I will figure out who killed her and bring that person or persons to justice. Now please, answer my question.”

The anger left Mandy Kent’s face and she spoke quietly.

“Last week, I found out last week that she was after my husband.”

“How did you find out?”

“From her brother, Steve Grace, he told me what was going on and then I saw proof of it with my own eyes.”

Alex Kent pointed at his wife.

“There’s your affair, Detective, my wife and this kid, Steve. In fact, she slept with him just last night.”

Mandy Kent leapt to her feet. “What?”

Her husband made a face of disgust as he shook his head.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I came by last night and saw him squeeze through the hedges and head for the back door.”

“You’re crazy. Steve wasn’t here last night.”

“I saw it with my own eyes, Mandy.”

Mandy Kent retook her seat and did the hand wave at her husband again, and again Parker caught the scent of liquor.

“Steve Grace,” Parker said. “I take it he lives next door also, as his sister did?”

“Yeah,” Kent said. “The Grace’s moved here a few months ago and only a short time later the parents were killed in a car accident while driving to New York City. That left Tiffany and Steve with the house.”

Parker looked back and forth at the couple.

“We’ll need to speak with your daughter, could you please bring her to us.”

“I want to be present when you speak to her.” Mandy said.

“Not a problem, and I also understand that she and her friend discovered the body?”

“Yes, and she’s very upset, she liked Tiffany, and finding her like that was devastating. She’s upstairs getting ready to leave. There’s no way we could sleep in this house tonight and... I’ll go get her.”

Kent stood after his wife left the room.

“Is it all right if I go get something to drink?”

“Absolutely, but I will want to talk to you again.”

“Right,” Kent said, and then he walked out a door at the rear of the room and entered the kitchen.

Parker looked over at Knight.

“What do you think?”

“I think we’ve got a mess here. One or both of them could have been fooling around and jealousy is a powerful motive for murder.”

“I want to talk to this Steve Grace, but he hasn’t been tracked down yet.”

“Mrs. Kent says that the brother told her his sister was sleeping with her husband, doesn’t that seem odd to you? I mean, why would he involve himself?”

“He must have disapproved of the affair, if there was one,” Parker said.

“She was found in this house, maybe Kent was meeting her here, maybe he did meet her here and she enraged him somehow.”

“Possibly, but listen, after we talk to the daughter, why don’t we split them up? You stay here and interview the missus while I talk to the mister outside.”

Knight grinned. “I was going to suggest that myself.”

Mandy Kent returned with her daughter, Allie Kent. The girl was twelve but looked even younger because she was so small; however, she had inherited her mother’s good looks and was a cutie.

When he introduced himself, Allie Kent looked up at Parker with a pair of red eyes.

“I’m sorry you had to find your friend that way, Allie, I’m sure it was tough.”

“Yes.”

“Did you see anyone else near the house as you arrived?”

“No. it was just me and my friend Becca, we were gonna play Nintendo and then Skype a friend of ours that moved away to Connecticut.”

“Did you touch anything when you came in?”

“No. When we saw Tiffany I hollered at her to wake up, but then Becca saw the blood on her side and screamed, after that... we ran over to Mrs. Jennings across the street and she called the cops, called you.”

“And where did you and Becca come from?”

“Her house, she lives around the block on Truant Street.”

“Were you there all day?”

Allie shook her head.

“Becca’s mom took us out to lunch, but then we went back to her house.”

“All right, honey, thanks for talking to me, and I’m sorry about your friend.”

Allie Kent sent him half a smile, a nod, and then drifted out of the room.

***

Parker left Knight in the house with Mandy Kent as he and Alex Kent stepped outside and walked around to the garden in the back.

The garden was impressive. It covered a good chunk of the large yard with rows of tomatoes, cucumbers, string beans, and there was even a section that sported corn stalks, although they were few in number. The yard had no fence, but was separated from its neighbors by rows of tall hedges that sat buried in fragrant pine wood chips. To Parker, the plants looked like green sentries on guard duty.

Kent leaned down and began weeding the garden with his bare hands.

“I’ve been neglecting things for a few days and already the weeds are trying to take over.”

Parker tapped him on the shoulder.

“Tend to your garden some other time; I’ve more questions for you.”

“Oh, right, I’m sorry, it’s just that this garden is like my baby, you know? But listen, why don’t we go inside the shed and I’ll turn the air-conditioner on.”

The shed was even more impressive than the garden. The right side of the shed was just that, a place to store tools and supplies for the garden, but the left side that took up the bulk of the small building was a man-cave, complete with TV, sofa bed, fridge, and as promised, air-conditioning.

Parker followed Kent inside.

“Do you spend much time out here Mr. Kent?”

“Yeah, I guess, gardening is my hobby, helps me relax,”

“You mentioned that you were watching the house last night, I take it that you no longer live here?”

Kent hung his head.

“My wife kicked me out the other day. I’m staying at the Washington Inn.”

“You also mentioned that you thought she was having an affair with Steve Grace, why do you believe that?”

“The kid is always sniffing around her, and that crap he told her about Tiffany and me having an affair, that was bullshit.”

“You also mentioned that you saw him last night, when was that?”

“About midnight, I came by to check on things, you know, to see if Mandy was seeing anyone. When I saw that there were no strange cars around I felt relieved, but then I saw Steve come through the hedges back here and walk across the driveway. Mandy must have let him in by the back door, probably ashamed of dating a kid that young.”

“How old is he?”

“Twenty-one, and a male version of his sister,”

“Did you stay long enough to see him leave?”

A smirk came across Kent’s face.

“The kid was in and out in less than fifteen minutes, must have been a quickie.”

Parker wondered if Kent was telling the truth. The part about the back door seemed strange. He made a few notations in his notebook and moved on.

“What sort of work do you do Mr. Kent?”

“Right now, I’m in the furniture business. I’m a part owner of Regal Furniture.”

“Business must be good; you own a lot of nice things.”

Kent laughed.

“I’m lucky is what it is. I had begun dabbling at currency trades when my company downsized me three years ago. The unemployment insurance kept us afloat for a while there, and when I couldn’t find anything that paid a decent salary, I began doing more trading. Well, I made a little, then a little more, and when the unemployment ended I figured what the heck, I’d give it a go. Well, to make a long story short I was able to tread water for a few months, but even with Mandy’s salary we were still nibbling away at our savings.”

“But then things turned around I take it?” Parker said.

“Oh yeah, I got on a streak like you wouldn’t believe. I made over four million dollars in a few months’ time, and as much as I’d like to attribute it to smarts I know it was just dumb luck. So, I put half of it aside for taxes, used most of it to help a friend expand his business, and now I’m part owner of a chain of furniture stores and making five times what I did before I got laid off.”

“You are a lucky man, are you as lucky with woman, woman such as Tiffany Grace?”

Anger flashed in Kent’s eyes, but after taking a deep breathe, he spoke.

“As God is my witness, Detective, I was not having an affair with that girl.”

“You’re telling me that there was no sexual contact of any kind?”

“That’s right,” Kent said, but less convincingly.

“Were you ever alone with her?”

Kent nodded.

“It happened here, I was in here watching a ball game one day when I hear a knock on the door. When I opened it, she walked right in.”

“Why did she come to see you?”

“She wanted a job babysitting Allie. There’s a three hour gap during weekdays when Allie’s home by herself after summer day camp. Well, twelve is an odd age, you know, kids aren’t grown, but they’re not babies anymore either. My wife trusted Allie to look out for herself, but I always worried and began coming home as early as I could, but Allie was still here alone for a period of time. So I hired Tiffany to look after Allie, and that way I wouldn’t have to rush home. When I mentioned it at dinner that night, Allie was all smiles. She liked Tiffany as if she were a big sister.”

“I take it your wife wasn’t as pleased?”

“You got that right. She didn’t say a word until Allie went up to her room, but then I got both barrels. She was pissed because I hadn’t consulted her and then she asked me why I really hired her.”

“She suspected you were interested in her, does she have reason to be?”

Kent scratched at the back of his neck.

“You’ve only seen her... deceased, but believe me, Tiffany was one very good-looking girl, and vivacious, I think every woman on the block is jealous of her. And yes, I was attracted to her; I mean I’m not made of stone.”

Parker stepped closer to Kent.

“You’re leaving something out. Your wife is convinced that you were sleeping with that girl, and she must have a reason to believe it. What’s the reason?”

Kent broke eye contact and Parker saw his shoulders slump.

“Allie had a school thing the other day, some kind of orientation for the new school year, but she forgot to mention it and so Tiffany came over to babysit. I had been out to lunch with the salesmen that day and had a bit to drink. I came home early and found Tiffany at the door. I let her in, I knew Allie wouldn’t be home, but I said nothing and let her in to wait.”

“And?”

“And we sat on the sofa... and I kissed her, she pulled back and put her hands on my chest, I guess to push me away, and that’s when Mandy came home. She accused us of having an affair and fired Tiffany, but I swear, it was just me acting stupid when I had a buzz on, and Tiffany wasn’t interested.”

Parker stared at Kent and tried to keep the disgust he felt for the man from showing on his face.

Not only was he willing to break his marriage vows at the first opportunity, but he was also not above trying to seduce a teenager.

He had often wondered how his wife’s affair had begun. Had she chased after Timothy Hearn or was Hearn the aggressor, either way, marriage vows, a solemn oath, meant less than nothing to some people, and Parker knew about the pain that Mandy Kent must have felt when she caught her husband with the girl.

“Did you kill Tiffany Grace, Mr. Kent?”

“No, and I was at work when it happened.”

“Who knows the code to your alarm?”

“Just us, we never give it out, not even to close relatives.”

Parker handed Kent one of his cards.

“I’ll likely want to speak with you again, Mr. Kent, so keep yourself available and let me know if you plan to travel. If you think of anything useful, let me know.”

“I kissed Tiffany, but I never slept with her. You believe me, don’t you?”

“No sir, I do not,” Parker said, and walked away.

4

Detective Joanna Knight studied Mandy Kent as the other woman went about making a pot of coffee.

Mandy Kent was nervous, but it was the normal sort of apprehension that came from discovering that someone you knew had been murdered, and not the twitching nervousness of guilt. Still, Knight knew that Mandy Kent had an admitted motive, as she believed her husband had been sleeping with the victim.

Like Parker, Knight had also detected the scent of liquor coming from Mandy Kent. Perhaps the woman had taken a drink to steady her nerves, or perhaps the problem went deeper, but Mandy had obviously been drinking.

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Kent,” Knight said.

Mandy leaned back against the sink and grinned.

“Almost everything is new. Alex made a fortune recently and I used a chunk of it to upgrade. We’re also building a new home, I want a bigger house.”

“How well did you know Tiffany Grace?”

“Not too well, but Allie loved her and so I went along with her babysitting, that is, until I found her on the couch with my husband,”

“Where was your daughter at the time?”

“Allie was at school for orientation. Alex knew the house would be empty and he let that girl in and seduced her, or she seduced him, either way, I tossed his ass to the curb.”

“Mr. Kent seems to think that you’re sleeping with the victim’s brother, are you?”

“What’s that got to do with Tiffany’s murder?”

Knight got up from her seat at the table and walked over to Mandy Kent.

“I don’t answer questions Mrs. Kent, I ask them, and when I do, I expect an answer.”

Mandy Kent blinked rapidly as she looked up at the taller woman.

“I slept with Steve once, two days ago, and I regret it. It felt cheap, and despite everything, I want my husband back.”

“Your husband says that Steve Grace was here last night.”

“He’s wrong, or... maybe he’s right and Steve did knock at the back door, but if he did I never heard him. I drank so much last night that I fell asleep in front of the TV after Allie went to bed.”

“What kind of work do you do?”

“I’m a real estate agent.”

“Steve Grace, does he work?”

“He’s a college student, so is—so was Tiffany. They also collected enough life insurance from their parents’ accident so that they didn’t need to work. That was what made me so suspicious of Tiffany, why babysit for a few dollars a week when you didn’t need to?”

“You think that she was after your husband?”

“All I know is what I saw the day I walked in on them.”

“Did you kill Tiffany?”

“God no! I didn’t like her, but I would never kill her.”

“Where were you this afternoon?”

“I was over in Hamilton to show a house to a couple.”

“This couple can verify that?”

“They never showed, and so I sat in my car and looked at listings on my laptop.”

“Did anyone see you in Hamilton?”

“I... no, maybe one of the neighbors?”

Knight took out her notebook.

“What’s the address?”

Mandy told her and Knight wrote it down.

“Mrs. Kent, did Tiffany know that you slept with her brother?”

“I don’t know.”

“But your husband knows, how?”

“He doesn’t know; he only suspects because Steve has always been attentive to me. You won’t tell him, will you?”

“Only if I have a reason to, and I doubt that I will,”

“Please don’t, I really want to try and put my marriage back together.”

“Your marriage is not my concern. My only concern is finding Tiffany’s murderer.”

“And will you, find the murderer I mean?”

Knight smiled without a trace of warmth.

“Absolutely,”

***

Knight spoke with Mandy Kent a while longer as the two of them sipped on coffee, and then she walked off to find Parker.

She found him outside, after discovering that the body had been taken away and the forensics team had left.

“Please tell me that Mr. Kent confessed.”

Parker smiled.

“He confessed his lust for the victim, but says he didn’t kill her. What about the wife?”

“She’s sleeping with the victim’s brother. She said it only happened once two days ago, but once is enough to count as an affair in my book.”

They each took a side of the street and began speaking with the neighbors, most of which didn’t know the Kents or Tiffany Grace, but a Mrs. Paula Jennings, a grandmotherly type, confirmed that it was she who called the police after Allie Kent and her friend came running to the door. She also offered the opinion that Mandy Kent, “drinks a lot” and that Alex Kent had paid too much attention to, “the young girl with the long blonde hair,” Tiffany Grace.

As Knight joined him back in front of the Kent home, Parker pointed to his right, where a silver sports car was parking at the curb.

“That might be the victim’s brother.”

A young, blond man got out of the car and there was a definite resemblance to the victim; however, there was nothing soft or feminine about the man, whose muscular arms showed clearly from a sleeveless T-shirt.

Parker flashed his badge.

“Are you Steve Grace, sir?”

The man’s eyes darted back and forth between Parker and Knight and Parker thought that there was both fear and guilt in his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m Steve Grace. What’s going on?”

Parker gestured toward Grace’s house.

“Perhaps we should speak inside, sir.”

Grace said, “All right,” and then led the way to his front door.

***

When they broke the news of his sister’s death, Steve Grace seemed genuinely distraught, and when they told him where and how she had died, he sent forth a sick moan as tears drenched his cheeks.

“Who killed her? Was it Alex?”

“We’re not sure who killed her yet, but we’re investigating,” Parker said.

As he spoke to Steve Grace, he took note that Knight had risen and was walking about the living room taking in the details, and had even picked up the mail lying on the table to examine the envelopes. The living room was neat, given that the only two people occupying the home were little more than teenagers. There was no sign of a struggle or violence and unlike the Kent’s place, the furniture fit the home and was middle class.

Knight walked over and laid a gentle hand on Grace’s shoulder.

“Mr. Grace, why don’t we all go into the kitchen and talk? It’s very hot out and I could use a drink of water.”

Grace stood, wiped at tears, and began walking towards the rear of the home.

She’s going to work out. Parker thought, as he looked over at Knight.

Detective Knight didn’t want a drink of water. Detective Knight wanted to see as much of the home as she could without a search warrant.

Knight must have also noticed the flash of guilt in Grace’s eyes when they told him they were cops, but Parker didn’t think that the guilt had anything to do with the murder of his sister, not after the reaction he had upon hearing of her death. No, that guilt was spawned from something else. Maybe the kid had drugs on his person or somewhere in the house. If that was the source of his fear and guilt, he need not worry; Parker’s only concern was to find out who killed Grace’s sister.

As they each sat at the kitchen table with a bottle of water, Parker began the questioning.

“Why do you suspect that Mr. Kent might have killed your sister?”

Steve Grace shrugged.

“She was found in his house, right?”

“Yes, but he has an alibi. He says he was at work.”

“He could have slipped out. He’s the boss where he works, so no one is looking over his shoulder.”

“We’ll be checking into his whereabouts, and on that note, where were you between the hours of one and three p.m.?”

“Me? You think I would kill my sister?”

“I need to ask. It’s part of the investigation.”

“I was at my girlfriend’s house in Freehold.”

“I’ll need her name, phone number, and address,”

Grace gave Parker the information and he wrote it down in his notebook.

“Mr. Grace,” Knight said. “Mandy Kent says that you two have slept together, is that true, sir?”

Grace looked startled.

“She told you about that?”

“Yes sir, is it true?”

“Yeah, two nights ago, Mandy and I... there’s chemistry, you know?”

“Did your sister know about the affair?”

“Tiff? No, not unless Mandy told her, and I doubt that happened. They didn’t like each other much. Tiff thought that Mandy was a drunk, and Mandy does drink more than she should.”

“Can you think of anyone who might have wished your sister harm?” Parker asked.

“No. Tiff was cool and everybody liked her, well, everybody but Mandy, but that was just jealousy because Alex was always perving on Tiff. That dude looked at her like he’d never seen a girl before.”

“We’d like to get a look at her room if you don’t mind,” Knight said, and Steve Grace rose from his seat and headed for the stairs.

***

Looking into his sister’s room started a fresh wave of tears in Grace, and he excused himself and headed back downstairs.

Parker looked around the room and saw what he expected to see in the room of a nineteen-year-old woman.

A queen-sized bed was covered in a frilly, pink blanket atop a shaggy purple area rug. Against one wall was a vanity and its surface was covered with bottles of perfume, tins of make-up and what must have been over a hundred different bottles of nail polish. Inside the closet, clothes hung on plastic hangers and some of the dresses glittered, while the closet’s floor held dozens of shoes.

There were no posters on the wall, but several photos of Tiffany Grace with other young people were taped to the wall beside the vanity, and Parker saw Tiffany Grace as she was in life, happy and vibrant. The girl was stunning even in a photo and Parker knew that alive and breathing she must have been quite a temptation to a man like Alex Kent.

Had Kent lured her to the house and things gotten out of hand, or had Mrs. Kent’s jealousy gotten the better of her?

Maybe it was someone else entirely, but then how did Tiffany get inside the Kent’s home?

Joanna Knight grabbed a few books from a small bookcase that sat beside the dresser.

“These are medical textbooks, pre-med; I guess she was going to be a doctor. My God, what a waste,”

Parker sighed.

“Why was she killed? Did it happen during a fit of rage or jealousy, or was someone trying to keep her from talking?”

“Talking about what?”

“I don’t know, but I think those are our possibilities. We’ll speak to the brother again when we’re done here. A girl this beautiful must have had someone in her life.”

When they finished their examination of the bedroom, they found Steve Grace slumped in a living room chair holding a picture of his family. He had recently lost his parents and now his sister.

Parker laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Do you have any other family, someone you can be with?”

“I have an aunt, dad’s sister, Peggy, but she’s back in Ohio where we came from.”

“Maybe you should call her.”

“I will, but oh hell, I’ve got to tell her what happened too, oh Tiff, oh man.”

“Was your sister seeing anyone?”

“Yeah, dude named Kevin Mathias, but he was an a-hole and cheated on her with his ex. They broke up last week. I don’t think there was anybody new, but Heather would know.”

“Who’s Heather?” Knight said.

“Oh, uh, Heather Jones, she lives a couple of blocks from here. She and Tiff were best friends.”

“Do you know her address?”

“No, but it’s on the corner of Monroe and Fifth, a big white house and the mailbox says Jones right on it,”

Parker handed Grace his card.

“If you think of anything, please give us a call.”

“Yeah,”

“And one more thing, stay away from the Kents. I think if you go over there it’ll only be trouble.”

Steve Grace said nothing, but nodded agreement, and after a few more questions, Parker and Knight left.

***

“Why don’t we go see Heather Jones?” Parker asked, once they had returned outside.

“Sounds good, I’ll follow you,”

Knight got in her car, a dark blue, late-model Ford, and followed Parker’s old, black Mustang. When they reached the Jones residence, Knight rushed over and ran her hands over Parker’s car.

“This is a beauty. It’s a ’65, isn’t it?”

“You know cars?”

“I know Fords, especially Mustangs; my dad owns a dealership in Pennsylvania.”

“This was my dad’s car. He bought it new and passed it on to me.”

“I see you keep it in great shape.”

“Yeah, and I’ll have it forever.”

They went to the house and a woman as beautiful as Tiffany Grace opened the door and looked out at them. She was Heather Jones, a redhead with green eyes who was a twenty-two-year old medical student.

Jones was so stunning that Parker felt his pulse quicken at first sight of her, but then he remembered why he was there and his heart grew sad at the task ahead.

He told Heather about her friend’s death and grimaced when he saw the pain and shock enter the woman’s eyes.

A few minutes later, the three of them were settled in the living room and Heather was answering their questions from a tear-stained face.

“No, I don’t know anyone that would hurt her. That Mrs. Kent didn’t like her because she thought Tiff was sleeping with her husband, but Tiff would never go for a married guy; she just liked babysitting the little girl.”

“Did she ever say anything about Alex Kent?”

“No details, but something weird happened between those two last week. She wouldn’t tell me what it was, but I got the feeling that maybe he came on way too strong. Whatever it was had her thinking about quitting the babysitting job, but she was really attached to the little girl and kept going there. Then, the dude tricked her into being alone with him, and that’s when his wife caught them together, but Tiff was there to babysit. She didn’t know the kid wasn’t coming home.”

“What’s your opinion of her brother?”

A smile burst through the tears.

“Steve, I like Steve, but he doesn’t give me the time of day. I have seen him over at the Kent’s though; he’s got a thing for Mandy Kent. God knows why, the woman could be his mother.”

“Was Tiffany afraid of Mr. or Mrs. Kent?”

“Afraid? No, she thought Kent was a creep and that Mandy was a bad mother who drank too much, but she wasn’t scared of them. Why, do you think one of them killed her?”

“We’re just investigating at this point. How did Tiffany get along with Steve?”

“Tiff loved her big brother, but... she didn’t like Steve sniffing around Mrs. Kent, Mandy. I was over there one day when she freaked because she learned that he had been spending time there when Mr. Kent wasn’t home. I think it was right after that when she began babysitting.”

“She was protective of her brother?”

“Ah, more like worried that he’d get into trouble. It’s not cool to be messing with a married woman. I don’t know why he likes Mandy so much. I’ve hit on him twice and he turned me down both times.”

Parker studied the girl and felt his pulse quicken again.

“Ms. Jones, can you tell us where you were between one and three p.m.?” He asked.

“Am I a suspect?”

“No, it’s just a routine question. We’ve asked it of everyone.”

“Oh, well I was here watching TV and studying. I don’t have work or classes today.”

“What sort of work do you do?”

“I’m a waitress at Taggart’s; you know the big bar in the handle?”

“I know it,” Parker said.

The town of Washington was roughly the shape of a frying pan, and Taggart’s Bar & Grill sat on land in what could be called the handle, and was called such by the town’s natives.

Heather looked Parker over and sent a shy smile his way.

“I work afternoons and evenings most days, stop by sometimes,”

Parker nodded, before taking out a card and passing it to her.

“Please give us a call if you think of anything that might help, okay?”

“I will, and shit, I can’t believe she’s dead, poor Tiff,”

***

After leaving Heather Jones, Parker and Knight went to a diner near the municipal building that housed the police station.

They discussed the case over coffee and pie, while learning a little about each other.

“How old?” Parker said.

“Twenty-two, my daughter is twenty-two.”

“You started really young,”

“I was fourteen and stupid. The boy was fifteen and he and his parents took no responsibility. My mother, God bless her, she kept my father from going insane and helped me to raise my baby.”

“What happened to the father?”

“He and his family moved away and I never saw him again. He’s forgotten, by me and my daughter.”

“A lot of girls would have given the baby up for adoption, did you ever consider it?”

“No, I was stupid to have gotten pregnant so young, but I wanted her, wanted to be a mother, and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I’d like to meet her someday.”

Jo smiled. “We’ll make a point of it, but what about you, any kids?”

“No, and I’m in the middle of a divorce. You’ll hear the gossip around the station so I might as well tell you myself. She cheated on me, twice, but, at least it was with the same guy.”

“Sorry Rick, that must have hurt,”

“Yeah, but life goes on, now tell me, what are your thoughts on the case?”

“Not much until we get the autopsy results, but it’s a fair guess that one of the Kents killed her. I mean, she died in their home.”

“The house has an alarm too. The Kents told the first cop on the scene that the alarm had been disarmed and then reset, which means that whoever killed her knew the code, because Mandy Kent swears she armed it when she took her daughter to her friend’s house on the way to work.”

“That suggests an act of rage, doesn’t it? I mean who would plan to murder someone and leave them where the crime points to themselves, and only the Kents knew the alarm code.”

Parker grinned.

“All right, I’ll say it, I suspect the wife. I think she had to be livid when she found her husband with that girl, I also think the sex with the girl’s brother was revenge sex.”

Jo grinned back.

“I think it’s the husband. I think he talked Tiffany into the house and made another move on her, and when she told him no, he lost it, grabbed the letter opener, and stabbed her.”

“I can buy that too, but like you said, we’ll know more after the autopsy.”

“When will we have the results?”

“Tomorrow morning, we have an eleven a.m. meeting with Stella Harvey, the assistant coroner.”

“Good, that will give us time to verify the alibis. How do you want to go about that?”

Parker thought it over for a moment, before answering.

“Some verification will be electronic, like phone records and checking traffic cameras and such. Those we’ll look at together after the autopsy, but why don’t you verify the Kents’ alibis, while I track down Steve Grace’s girlfriend, and this ex-boyfriend of Tiffany’s, Kevin Mathias.”

“Sounds good,” Jo said.

“Hey Partner,”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for starting early. I think I missed having a partner more than I knew.”

“You’re welcome, and I know we’ve just started, but I think we’ll make a good team, Rick.”

“We’re good enough to catch this killer, I’ll tell you that.”

Jo held up the last piece of pie on her fork.

“The bad guys don’t stand a chance.”

5

The following morning, Detectives Parker and Knight sat inside the squad room at the town municipal center, and filled each other in on what they had discovered while verifying the alibis of likely suspects in the murder of Tiffany Grace. They had both finished their morning tasks early and were now waiting for the coroner’s findings.

Parker tapped his pen against his desktop. They were each sitting at their own small, metal desk, amidst other groupings of desks. Their desks were pressed together so that they were facing each other, thus making it easier to talk and pass each other reports. The arrangement gave Parker a view of the chief’s office at the back, while Jo’s desk faced the elevator.

On Parker’s right was a line of windows that let in natural light, they were interspersed with gray filing cabinets. On the left were a tiny break room and the bathrooms. The large room’s beige walls were made of plaster, with multiple cracks and divots showing, while the floor was well-worn wood that creaked with each step. The building was constructed in the thirties, and there was talk of building a new, more modern municipal center, but Parker liked the old place and thought that it had character.

“The Kents’ alibis check out.” Jo said. “However, that house in Hamilton that Mrs. Kent was showing is less than a fifteen minute drive away from her home. Mr. Kent was at his office, but his office is at the rear of a large warehouse and has its own exit, and he could have gotten home in as little as ten minutes. The problem is, that there’s no way to verify that either of them stayed where they were.”

“If either of them slipped away then that would seem to indicate premeditation, and this murder has act of passion written all over it. Tiffany Grace was a little thing. I bet even Mrs. Grace could have dragged the body away, but it was just left there. That makes me think that the killer was shocked by the act.”

“Yeah, but they did have the presence of mind to wash off the murder weapon,” Jo said.

“But they didn’t dispose of it, why not? It sounds to me like they weren’t thinking straight.”

“What did Tiffany’s ex say?”

“He and the new girlfriend are in Vegas on vacation and have been there for three days. I was able to talk to Steve Grace’s girlfriend on the phone, but not in person, she’s a saleswoman and had to fly to Boston, but I’ve arranged to meet with her when she returns.”

Jo checked her watch.

“The autopsy should be done, let’s go get the results.”

“Maybe there will be a clue that will break the case wide open.”

Jo laughed.

“You wish.”

As they rose from their desks, the chief stepped out of his office and walked towards them.

Chief Gabe Howard not only sounded like a college professor, but looked like one as well. He was tall, well dressed, with intelligent blue eyes behind stylish glasses, but Parker had heard tales of Howard’s days in uniform and knew that the man was tough.

Howard sent Jo a warm smile.

“How’s it going so far?”

“Great,” Jo said. “Rick and I work well together and the case is moving along.”

“Any suspects?”

“The husband and wife who own the home, naturally, but I think there’s something we’re not seeing yet.” Jo said.

“Well, it’s early days, you two drop in later and update me.”

Parker said, “Will do, Chief,” and then he and Jo went off to talk to the coroner.

***

The town morgue was located right along the border of the airfield, because when they first opened the field, nine amateur pilots had crashed in the first six months and they figured they might as well be where the action was.

In the intervening decades, air travel had become far safer, even for small planes, and the squat, lime-green brick building was seldom used, and would soon be closed down, as the coroner’s office was relocated to the basement of the new hospital being built.

Joanna Knight wrinkled her nose as she walked into the small building, not liking the antiseptic smell, or the odor of death beneath it.

“I’m glad we didn’t actually watch the autopsy being performed.”

“I do sometimes,” Parker said. “But it seemed pretty clear that she was killed by a single thrust from that letter opener. I don’t expect any surprises.”

“And you won’t get any either,” a voice said from their left.

It was Stella Harvey. She was wearing a white lab coat and taking off a pair of gloves.

“Your Vic was killed by that antique letter opener, murdered by a single downward thrust that slipped the tip of that thing right into her heart.”

Jo raised an eyebrow.

“Downward? Such as a blow a man, say, six-foot-two might deliver?”

Stella nibbled her bottom lip, before answering.

“It could have been a man or a woman, but yeah, someone taller is more likely to have made it. I found several foreign hairs on the body; however, you can forget getting any usable DNA if it turns out that they belong to the homeowners. If either of the Kents left those hairs behind, than so what? It’s their house; you’d expect to find them.”

“I’m liking the husband more and more for it.” Jo said, but when she looked over at Parker she saw that he was deep in thought. She touched his arm. “You got something?”

He smiled and shook his head.

“The Kents both say that no one else knew their alarm code, but what if they’re wrong and Tiffany knew it. She was in that house a lot; maybe she knew the code and let herself in. If that’s the case, then almost anyone could have killed her.”

“True, but don’t forget, the alarm was reset after her murder, that would mean that the killer knew that code too, and that brings us right back to the Kents.” Jo said.

“We need to talk to the people that service the alarm, maybe they can help us.”

“Okay, but why don’t we talk to the Kents again soon, and this time we’ll make it more formal and have them come in,”

“Sounds good,” Parker agreed, and then he asked Stella a question. “I take it there were no signs of recent sexual activity?”

“None, and no bruising or scratches, whatever happened, happened quickly, before she could defend herself.”

They talked with Stella a little longer and then left. They had taken Parker’s car and as they walked toward it, he asked Jo a question.

“Can you drive a stick?”

“Hell yeah? My father wouldn’t have it any other way; it’s how I learned to drive.”

Parker tossed her the keys.

“You drive.”

***

They stopped for lunch at a chain restaurant that was a favorite of Parker’s and Jo was still smiling from getting a chance to drive the Mustang.

She handed Parker his keys.

“That was fun, thanks,”

“No problem, it gave me a chance to look over this autopsy report, not that I found anything.”

They entered the restaurant and took a booth.After getting something to drink and ordering their food, they talked more about the case.

“When they come in to be interviewed, I want Mr. Kent this time.” Jo said.

“That’s a good idea, it might throw them off even more, oh, and don’t forget, after lunch we’re meeting the alarm guy.”

“Good, he may help to narrow down the time of the murder. Someone had to disable and then rearm the alarm.”

Parker held up a finger. “I have a new theory,”

“I’m listening.”

“The Vic was killed by Mrs. Kent... and her brother.”

“The brother? I don’t know, he seemed genuinely shocked and devastated to me.”

“To me too, but I’ve seen murderers that should have been in the theater.”

“True, but why would he help her?”

“With his sister dead, he gets the whole house and what’s left of their parents’ insurance payoff, and if Mr. Kent goes down for the murder, then Mrs. Kent gets all his goodies, including their house.”

“What made you think of this?”

“You told me that Mrs. Kent says she broke off her affair with Steve Grace, that doesn’t ring true to me. Grace is a good-looking kid nearly half her age. Maybe it’s different for women, but speaking for myself, if I was fooling around with a beautiful girl half my age, I don’t think I’d be the one to end it.”

Jo thought that over.

“Yeah, I see your point, but I still think it’s the husband, and I can’t wait to put him in a box and sweat him.”

Their food came and they began eating, but halfway through the meal, Jo smiled at Parker.

“I think you have an admirer at the bar who wants your attention.”

Parker had been giving his full attention to a bacon-cheeseburger with a tangy jalapeno sauce, but he turned his head and looked where Jo indicated. Sitting alone at the bar and smiling at him was Rachel, his wife.

6

The bacon-cheeseburger suddenly tasted like wet newspaper as Parker stared at the smiling face of his soon-to-be, ex-wife.

He spoke to Jo as he wiped his hands on a napkin.

“That’s not an admirer, that’s my wife.”

“Oh,” Jo said.

“Excuse me a moment while I go say hello.”

As Parker walked towards Rachel, the detective in him couldn’t help but take inventory, and he realized that the skirt she wore was shorter than the norm for her. Her face, besides offering a nervous smile, was also expertly made-up and her blond hair glistened in an arrangement that was very becoming.

She looks damn good. Life without me seems to agree with her.

“Hello Rachel,”

Rachel stood and gave him an awkward kiss on the side of his mouth.

“Hi Rick,”

“I would ask how you’ve been but I see you look fantastic.”

She smiled. “Thank you, and your lunch date is beautiful, what’s her name?”

“That’s not my date; she’s my new partner.”

“Oh, well, she’s still pretty,”

“Yeah, well, take care,”

He started to turn away and Rachel grabbed his sleeve.

“I actually came here hoping to run into you. I wanted to tell you something.”

He sighed.

“That’s what the lawyers are for, but I thought you already agreed to sign?”

“Tim and I have broken up.” She blurted.

“Did he go back to his wife?”

“No... someone else,”

“What do you want me to say, Rachel, that I’m sorry?”

“I, I just wanted you to know.”

Parker stared at her, while wondering if she could possibly believe he’d take her back a second time. Forgiveness was one thing, being a doormat was another.

“You’ve told me, and now I know it. Take care,”

Parker spun around and walked away before she could utter another word, when he slid back into the booth he looked down at his food and realized he’d lost his appetite.

“Your wife is gorgeous.” Jo said.

“Ex-wife, or she soon will be,”

“You want to talk about it?”

“No, and I’m ready to leave when you are.”

“Okay Partner, but I’ve got the check,”

“Thanks, I’ll get the next one,”

Jo caught his eye and smiled.

“There’s always a next one, you know?”

Parker understood her meaning and smiled back as he realized she was trying to cheer him up.

“And plenty of fish in the sea,” he said.

“That’s right, now, where’s that waitress?”

***

The man at the alarm company was named Matt Hooper.

Parker and Jo spoke to him in his small, cluttered office inside Ace Alarms and Security, the company that installed and serviced the Kents’ alarm system.

Hooper was an energetic white man in his thirties, with curly brown hair and emerald eyes, eyes that seemed to stay locked on Joanna Knight, who Hooper smiled at often.

“Could someone have tampered with the Kents’ alarm pad?” Parker asked.

Hooper answered him while looking at Jo.

“No. I checked for that and they haven’t been touched.”

Parker thought that Jo looked flattered by Hooper’s attention, and saw her smile back once or twice. The guy was good-looking, and not married judging by the lack of a ring.

Jo pointed out two times listed on the sheet that Hooper had given them. The sheet showed the times and dates that the Kents’ alarm system had been activated and deactivated over the last few months.

“On the day of the murder, someone disabled it via the pad near the front door at 1:58 p.m. and rearmed it at 2:09 p.m. via the pad on the back door, that time frame is likely when the murder took place. The alarm then stayed armed until the Kents’ daughter came home with her friend at 4:02.”

“Eleven minutes,” Parker said, “Something went horribly wrong in those minutes,”

They thanked Hooper for his assistance and he handed Jo a card.

“That’s my cell phone, Detective Knight, just in case you have further questions,”

Jo stared at Matt Hooper for a beat, but then took out one of her own cards and handed it to him.

“My cell, in case there’s anything you might want to ask me.”

Hooper grinned as he took the card.

“Expect a call very soon,” he said.

“I’ll do that, Matt,” Jo said,

As she and Parker left the building, he started chuckling.

“What’s that laugh about?”

“Hooper, if I walked back in there right now he wouldn’t recognize me. I don’t think his eyes ever left you.”

“What can I say; he liked what he saw,”

“I hope it leads to something good, being alone sucks,”

They climbed in the car and buckled up.

“It doesn’t sound like your looking forward to being divorced.” Jo said.

Parker shrugged.

“I still love her. I can’t trust her as far as I could throw this car, but I think I’ll always love her.”

“One doesn’t work without the other, not in a relationship,”

Parker sighed, and then realized he’d been doing it a lot lately, but sighing was better than the lethargy that plagued him the first few days after finding Rachel’s “Dear John,” letter.

He briefly wondered if he’d ever be happy again, but then abandoned that train of thought and got his mind back on the case.

“Let’s have another conversation with the Kents, and this time, we put their backs to the wall.”

7

The following afternoon, Parker sat across from Mandy Kent in a room the size of a closet and stared at her until she squirmed.

The walls of the room were made of cinderblock and painted a stark white. The only furniture was a small, wooden table and two chairs without arms, they too were painted white and the floor and ceiling were just as devoid of color. The effect was a starkness that begged to be stained by something, by anything, such as the contents of a guilty mind.

Facing the table was a one-way mirror, behind which Detective Joanna Knight observed her partner; standing beside her was Chief Gabe Howard.

Mandy Kent nervously cleared her throat.

“You said you had more questions, Detective, why aren’t you asking them?”

“There’s only one real question remaining at this point,” Parker said.

“What is it?”

“Why did you kill Tiffany Grace?”

Mandy swallowed hard as her eyes grew wide.

“I didn’t kill her! I wasn’t even there at the time it happened, you know that.”

“What I know is that someone lured her into that house, turned off the alarm, and stabbed her through the heart. They then calmly rearmed the alarm system and left by the back door, leaving poor Tiffany lying on the floor like a bag of dirty laundry.”

Mandy shook her head vigorously.

“I was in Hamilton waiting to show a house.”

“Yeah, about that, I took the trip and that listing is only a six minute drive away from your home.”

The six minutes was a lie. The drive actually averaged fourteen minutes, and if Mandy Kent blurted that fact out in her defense, it could mean that she had previously timed it in preparation for an alibi.

“I don’t care how long it takes. I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t kill Tiffany because she was sleeping with Alex, if that were true I’d have done it the day I caught them together.”

“With your husband as a witness? No, I don’t think so, plus, this way there’s the added bonus that he might go to prison for your crime.”

Mandy Kent stared at him in incomprehension, but before she could respond to his accusations, Parker changed the subject.

“Steve Grace, how many times have you slept with him?”

“What?”

“You deny the affair?”

“No, I, no, once, we only slept together once,”

Parker let out a little laugh.

“Right, a young, good-looking stud like Steve? Only once?”

“It’s true! Why would I lie?”

“What’s a little lying after you’ve committed murder?”

Mandy slammed a fist down atop the table.

“I did not kill Tiffany!”

Parker sighed wearily,

“All right, let’s say it really was only one time, why is that? Steve lost interest in you?”

Mandy laughed.

“It’s just the opposite, he won’t leave me alone, but it’s never going to happen again, no, not again.”

“Why not?”

Mandy said nothing for a few seconds, and when she did speak, she was staring down at the table.

“I’m thirty-eight, Detective, I’m twenty pounds overweight, I’ve got a C-section scar on my belly from when I had Allie and I’m no stranger to stretch marks and cellulite, but, despite all that, Steve told me that I was beautiful.”

“If he can see past your flaws, then why end the affair?”

Mandy Kent looked up again and stared Parker in the eyes, and in those eyes, he saw embarrassment, pain, and tears.

“He was lying through his teeth. I know he was, in fact, I think... I think he found me repulsive.”

“Then why would he keep pursuing you?”

Mandy shook her head, perplexed,

“I think maybe he sees me as a replacement for his mother, and the thought of that, of being... motherly, to a lover? That thought, that repulsed me, and that’s why he’ll never touch me again.”

Parker stood.

“Stay here Mrs. Kent, and I’ll return in a few minutes.”

He opened the white door set beside the mirror and walked out into the hallway.

“She didn’t confess to murder, but you sure got her to open up,” Chief Howard said.

“Yeah, and she’s got me leaning more toward the husband now,” Parker said.

Jo turned and looked through a second one-way mirror across the hall, where Alex Kent sat in his own white room.

“Let’s see if we can get to the truth. I’m going in.”

***

Jo studied Kent as she sat across from him and saw that the man was nervous.

“How’s it going, Mr. Kent?”

“Fine, and you?”

“I’m not fine; I’m very upset that Tiffany Grace’s killer is still walking around free.”

Kent nodded.

“Of course, how can I help?”

“I’m told by my partner that you kissed Tiffany and that she didn’t want to play along. How did that make you feel, angry?”

“Angry? No, I wasn’t angry, I felt stupid, and to make things worse Mandy caught me in the act.”

Jo leaned forward over the table.

“You wanted Tiffany so much it hurt, didn’t you?”

“I was attracted to her, yes?”

“You were horny for her is what you were.”

Kent winced at the characterization.

“That’s a crude way of putting it.”

“But accurate as all hell, and tell me, what’s your net worth?”

“Why? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I think it’s the root of the problem. Prior to this past year, you’ve never made more than sixty grand, then, you hit a streak of fantastic luck and become a multi-millionaire, a somebody, and a somebody with millions of dollars should be able to score. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure you do, you made yourself into a millionaire before the age of forty and what’s the first thing you do? You replaced all of your stuff, everything new, new furniture, new appliances, a new car, make plans to build a new home and... make plans to replace the old wife, preferably with the hot young thing next door.”

Kent shook his head.

“No, you’re wrong,”

“You hit a snag though, didn’t you? Because the hot young thing didn’t want to play along, she didn’t want you, a man twice her age, she spurned you, you, who could buy and sell her. That must have hurt that middle-aged male ego, huh? In fact, I bet that made you mad enough to kill.”

“I didn’t kill Tiffany! Was I pissed when she didn’t want to kiss me, yes, but like I said, it was a stupid thing to do and I regretted it. That damn kiss may have cost me my marriage, and I, I love my wife, I love Mandy more than anything and I want her back.”

Jo sat up straight in her seat, looking surprised.

“Ah, I see, I had it all wrong, didn’t I?”

Kent stared at her with suspicion in his eyes.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you believe me?”

Jo gave her head a slight shake.

“Why didn’t I see it before? Tiffany didn’t turn you down. You two were having an affair, and right under your wife’s nose, but for you it was all fun and games, wasn’t it?”

“There was no affair; just the one kiss, I swear it.”

Jo ignored him and kept speaking.

“She was just a piece on the side to you, but she thought she would be the next Mrs. Kent, didn’t she? Hell, she probably made sure that your wife would catch you together, that way you’d be forced to choose, but it backfired on her, didn’t it? It backfired and you chose to stay with your wife and end it.”

“You’re crazy! None of that ever happened.”

“Now I see it plain as day,” Jo said. “She sees you come home unexpectantly, follows you inside and tries to start things up again, but as you say, you love your wife and you want her back. In fact, you love her enough to kill, don’t you?”

“You’re twisting my words,” Kent said, and watching him from the other side of the mirror, Parker thought the man looked scared, scared and obviously hiding something.

“Tiffany wanted you back, wanted to be more than just a piece on the side, and wouldn’t leave you alone. She was a threat to your marriage, a threat to your home and she had to go away. Now, I don’t think you planned to kill her, I mean I understand that it was a fit of rage, an accident even, but you killed that girl, didn’t you Alex, didn’t you?”

Kent had turned pale and was clutching the edge of the table.

“It was one kiss, one kiss, I swear.”

Jo laughed.

“DNA doesn’t lie, Alex,”

“What DNA?”

“The baby’s, Tiffany was pregnant when you killed her, and I’ve no doubt that the DNA of the fetus will match yours, no doubt at all.”

“Pregnant?” Kent whispered, and then he sent forth a half-hearted laugh, when the laugh left his lips he began to cry.

Outside in the hall, Chief Howard turned to Parker.

“There’s no baby, is there?”

“No.”

“She’s damn good, Rick,”

“You got that right, and Kent’s about to break.”

Jo leaned forward again, but this time she spoke in a softer voice.

“I believe it was an accident, but you still killed your own child.”

Kent wiped away his tears.

“I lied. Not about killing her, I swear to God in heaven that I did not kill that girl, but... we had sex. It happened when she came home drunk one night, mumbling something about her boyfriend dumping her. My wife and daughter were visiting my in-laws and I... I took advantage of her. I should have taken her home, but instead I got her even drunker and took her to bed. She woke up the next morning and blamed herself, and I let her, then, the incident on the couch, that was me going back for seconds, but she wanted none of it, and told me so. That’s when Mandy walked in and caught us.”

“You lied about the sex, why shouldn’t I believe that you’re lying about the murder?”

Kent stared at Jo for long seconds before saying four words.

“I want a lawyer.”

8

The chief smiled at Jo as she walked out of the room.

“That was damn fine work, Detective.”

“Thank you, Chief,”

“Way to go, Partner, it looks like you were right about him.”

Jo nibbled at her lower lip.

“The funny thing is, I’m not so sure anymore. I saw guilt in his eyes, but the moment he confessed to the sex it went away. I think he felt guilty about taking advantage of Tiffany, so guilty that he lied about it to two homicide detectives, but murder, maybe, yeah, maybe, but the guilt is gone from his eyes.”

“In any event, he’s lawyered up, so that’s that,” Parker said, and turned to Chief Howard. “What’s the call, Gabe? Should we charge him?”

“Charge him with suspicion of murder, and let the wife go, and guys, excellent work, both of you.”

They thanked their boss and then explained to Mandy Kent that her husband was being arrested.

She defended him vehemently until she heard that he confessed to all but raping Tiffany Grace while she was drunk, then she became silent, as tears welled up and began running down her cheeks.

***

Parker and Knight spent the rest of the day investigating a missing persons case that took them to the bar named Taggart’s, where Heather Jones worked, Heather Jones, who had been Tiffany Grace’s friend.

The man they were trying to locate was a Taggart’s employee. They were hoping to find a clue as to where the man might have disappeared to, and were speaking with the manager and staff.

Taggart’s was located on the southwestern end of town in an area that was still wooded.

Nathanial Taggart, the bar’s founder and owner bought the land at the end of prohibition. The bar was built with money he had earned as a teenaged bootlegger.

Taggart’s was a huge, red, barn-like building and had a bandstand in the rear of it. There was also a private lake and picnic area.

Jo stepped out of the car and looked around.

“Wow, there’s nothing else here. All this land must be worth some money, hmm?”

“I heard that it’s over fifty acres, but old man Taggart refuses to sell. He’s nearly a hundred by the way.”

“Could there be a connection with the Tiffany Grace murder here?” Jo asked.

“No,” Parker said. “You’ll find yourself here quite often for all sorts of things. Half the town drinks here and there has been some illegal activity, but nothing too heinous.”

“All right, it just struck me as a coincidence that Heather Jones is on the peripheral of both cases.”

“Speak of the devil,” Parker said, and watched Heather Jones stride toward them. The young woman was even more beautiful than Parker remembered and he felt his heart speed up. Jones was wearing her work uniform. All the waitresses at Taggart’s wore the same outfit, very tight, black shorts with a red, sleeveless T-shirt that displayed their midriff, but on Heather Jones the effect of the sexy clothes was doubled, and her red hair sparkled as much as her green eyes.

When Heather reached them, she stood up on her toes and kissed Parker on the cheek.

“That’s for catching Tiff’s killer. I heard that Mr. Kent was under arrest for her murder.”

Parker smiled, and also looked a bit embarrassed.

“I thank you for the kiss, but that case isn’t closed yet. Alex Kent is charged with suspicion, but we’re still investigating.”

“Oh, well, keep the kiss anyway, because I know you’ll solve it, and drop in sometime when you’re not working, okay.”

“Okay, and thanks for the vote of confidence,”

They spoke with Jones about her missing co-worker, but she had nothing to add that could help them find him, and so they left the club and climbed back into Parker’s Mustang.

When he looked over at her, he saw Jo smiling.

“What’s that smile for?”

“Heather Jones, you like her, don’t you?”

“Biologically I’m crazy about her, but I’m no Alex Kent. Hell, I couldn’t even hold on to my wife, and she’s only ten years younger than me.”

“Jones would take your mind off your wife though, and I think she likes you too.”

“Are you trying to play matchmaker, Partner?”

“No, but I do want to see you happy,”

“Thanks for that, I appreciate it, but I think I need time alone, at least for now,”

“I hear you, so where to next?”

***

They finished out the day by filing reports and Parker walked through his front door before six p.m.

Parker lived in a three bedroom home on a street near the new mall. The house was up for sale because part of the divorce settlement stated that the home’s equity be divided equally between Parker and Rachel, however, he had avoided the alimony trap because Rachel had abandoned the marriage.

Parker liked the house a great deal and hated to leave it, especially since he had turned the basement into a workshop for his carpentry and woodworking hobbies.

After showering and changing clothes, he grabbed a beer, went back by the front door, and looked over the mail. Lying on the table beside the bills was a copy of his divorce papers, something he had yet to sign.

He left the mail unopened and walked into the living room, where he plopped onto the sofa and drank his beer while thinking about Rachel.

Timothy Hearn had left his wife for her, and now left Rachel for yet another woman, but he felt no joy in knowing that she had been treated the same way in which she had treated him.

He still loved Rachel, and seeing her the day before and not being able to touch her was hard, because all he ever wanted to do from the moment he first saw her was to take her in his arms and never let go.

He sat brooding on the sofa until the room grew dark. When he stood, he realized that he was hungry, but then remembered that he had eaten the last of the Chinese food the night before. He considered ordering a pizza, but then decided to go out to eat. After strapping a holstered .22 to his ankle, he headed out.

He had intended to drive to the diner, but wound up heading toward Taggart’s and Heather Jones. When he got to the turn that would take him there, he drove past, while chastising himself mentally.

Stupid Parker! The girl was only being nice because she wants you to find her friend’s killer. She doesn’t need some middle-aged cop hitting on her, and besides, she’s part of an active case.

An hour later, he found himself entering Philadelphia. Twenty minutes after that he was sitting at the bar of one of Philly’s more notorious pick-up joints, where women drank for free and men were on the prowl.

Parker ordered a whiskey and then swiveled around on his stool to take it all in. It was a Thursday night, but it was still summer, and the bar was becoming crowded. There were several groups of females sitting at tables together, and they were all slightly intoxicated and scantily dressed.

One of them, a blonde in a halter top smiled at Parker, then whispered to the girl at her side. When the other girl looked Parker’s way, she also sent him a smile, and then the two of them stood and walked over to him.

The blonde’s friend was Hispanic, and her black curls hung about her pretty face like a mane.

When they reached Parker, they stood on either side of him and he watched their eyes flow over him.

“You’re new here,” said the first girl, the blonde, and up close, Parker saw that they were just that, girls, despite the fact that they were in their twenties.

“He’s a cop,” said the second girl, and Parker sighed inwardly. No, he never would have lasted undercover.

“Yes, I’m a cop, but I just stopped in for a drink,” Parker said, and then the three of them exchanged names.

They were Cindy and Leda, and Parker knew that he had seen many more years then either of them, but they were very nice, very sexy, and he had not been with a woman since his wife left him.

Leda soon drifted away to the dance floor and Parker and Cindy kept talking, and as they talked, she moved between his parted legs and touched him on the cheek, then on the chest, caressing him. After the second kiss, Cindy took him by the hand and led him outside to the parking lot.

“Which car is yours?” She said, and then squealed with delight when she spotted the Mustang.

Once in the car, Cindy asked him where he lived and when he told her, she said that it was too far to drive and that they couldn’t go to her place, because her other roommate had it for the night.

Parker was about to suggest a motel when Cindy removed her top.

“Do you have a condom?” Cindy asked.

“No,”

“That’s all right, I always carry some.”

She brought one out from her purse and handed it to Parker.

“Here?” Parker said.

“Why not?” She replied, and he felt her hands working at his belt.

Part of his mind, the cop part was screaming at him to stop things before they went too far. It even warned of danger, and told him that the girl was just a distraction and that once his pants were undone and he was exposed and helpless, that the car door would be wrenched open and a gun would be aimed his way, and his wallet taken.

He knew such things happened, had investigated them and thought their male victims a special sort of fool, but if it was the girl’s true intent to rob him than he would be robbed, because as her hands took hold of him he knew he was too far gone.

However, Cindy had no partner, had no other desire than the one that slackened her beautiful face, and caused her to sit astride Parker. She was so petite that she fit between Parker and the steering wheel easily, and as she began moving herself slowly up and down, Parker nuzzled her warm, soft, perfumed neck and forgot the pain of his wife’s betrayal, forgot the eyes of the dead, and the ache of loneliness, and just gave himself over to pleasure.

When the inevitable end came, Cindy shuddered against him and settled limply into his arms, but mere moments later, she eased off of him and reached for her top.

“Jesus, but that was good, Rick,”

Parker chuckled. “It had been a while for me.”

Cindy kissed him and opened her door.

“I have to get back inside, I’m crashing at my friend Chloe’s and I don’t want her to leave without me, see ya around.”

And with those words, she was gone.

Parker cleared a spot on the foggy glass of his windshield and watched her weave between the cars as she headed back inside the bar. He felt like he should call to her, but what was there to say?

They weren’t going to have a relationship. Their relationship, what it was and all it ever would be had just taken place, and the only thing she had ever wanted from him was kindness and casual sex, and her desire matched his own.

Parker straightened himself up, started the car, and headed home, feeling a little older and a little sadder than when he left it.

9

Parker entered the squad room on Friday morning and saw Jo walking towards him holding a coffee.

“Cream and sugar, right?”

“Yes, and thanks,”

Parker took a sip and felt the warm liquid energize him. He hadn’t fallen asleep until nearly two, and then hit the snooze alarm until there was just enough time to shower and shave.

“Steve Grace’s girlfriend is coming in this morning,” Jo said. “Although, I’m not sure if she has anything to add to the case,”

“I know, she told me on the phone that she’d never even met Tiffany, but I wanted to see her in person, to see if she has scratches on her arms or face.”

“The coroner’s report says that there was no flesh under her fingernails, but she might have punched her attacker, so yeah, we might as well get a look at her and check for a black eye.”

They got their look about an hour later and there wasn’t a mark on her. A uniformed officer escorted Steve Grace’s girlfriend, Susan May, to their desks.

May was in her early-forties and was a saleswoman for an office supply manufacturer.

She was dressed in a conservative pantsuit that was too tight, and her brown eyes were large behind her thick glasses. She had nothing of value to add to the case, but assured them that Steve Grace was with her and her eleven-year-old daughter at the time of the murder. Parker and Jo took down her statement, thanked her for her time, and walked her to the elevator.

When the doors slid closed, Jo let out a soft whistle.

“That Steve Grace must have mother issues; his girlfriend’s even older than Mandy Kent.”

Parker said nothing, but just stood there unmoving, as his mind began to race.

“Rick?”

Parker didn’t answer, but just kept staring out at nothing.

Jo touched his arm.

“Hey Rick, you all right?”

Parker nodded, as a sick feeling came upon him.

“Jo, I think we’ve had this case all wrong.”

“What do you mean? Are you talking about Susan May?”

He nodded again, and then mashed the button on the elevator.

“Yeah, I think she’s the key to this whole case, and if I’m right, it’s more twisted than we thought.”

The elevator came, and they went after Susan May as Parker told Jo his theory.

***

Five hours later.

The Kents and their daughter Allie were inside Chief Howard’s office with Parker and Jo. There was also a psychiatrist present, a woman named Dr. Price and Parker hoped that her presence would turn the tide and bring the awful truth to light.

Parker began with a sad sigh,

“We know who really killed Tiffany Grace.”

Alex Kent released his own sigh.

“Thank God, who was it?”

“It was Allie, Mr. Kent; your daughter killed Tiffany Grace,”

The Kents both exclaimed loud protests at the accusation, but twelve-year-old Allie hung her head and began weeping.

Dr. Price moved beside the girl just as her mother took her hand.

“Allie,” Dr. Price said. “Honey, we know it must have been an accident, a mistake and... we know about you and Steve.”

“Steve? Steve Grace? What about him?” Mandy Kent said.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kent,” Dr. Price said, “But Steve Grace has been molesting your daughter.”

“What?” Mandy shouted, as her husband looked stricken with shock.

Allie said something then, but it was whispered and lost amid her sniffles.

“What did you say, baby?” Mandy asked.

“I said Stevie isn’t molesting me, he loves me, and I love him too.”

Mandy let out a wail as her husband began crying his own tears.

Parker walked over and looked the wounded child in the eyes.

“Honey, please tell us what happened with Tiffany.”

Allie shrugged.

“She was gonna tell. She was gonna make it so we couldn’t see each other again.”

Alex Kent pointed a finger at his daughter.

“Don’t say another word! They’ll put you in jail, baby.”

Allie shrugged again,

“They know, Daddy, they already know,”

Parker lowered himself onto his haunches and spoke softly to the child.

“Why did you stab Tiffany, to stop her from telling?”

Allie shook her head, her eyes wide and pleading.

“I didn’t mean it. I swear. I was at Becca’s house and realized that I’d left my phone on the table by the front door, so I cut through the back yards to go get it while Becca went to the bathroom again. Becca was going a lot because something she ate at lunch bothered her stomach.”

Parker nodded. When he realized what must have happened, they checked more deeply into the girl’s alibi and discovered that her friend Becca lived just on the other side of the block, barely a minute’s walk away if you went through the yards and squeezed through the hedges, and Becca confirmed that she and Allie had been apart several times.

“Tiffany was just getting out of her car, and when she saw me, she followed me inside the house. Then, she started asking me about Stevie, about me and Stevie, and when I admitted it, she looked so sad, so sad, and then she picked me up and hugged me. I was already holding the letter opener, because I was playing with it as we talked, but I forgot I had it, and when she said that she would tell Mom about Stevie... I started hitting her.”

“But you were holding the letter opener, and instead of hitting her, you stab her,”

“Yeah, and then she dropped me and, and she had this really weird look on her face, but then she fell down, and the blood came, but not much, not really, but she wouldn’t wake up, she wouldn’t wake up.”

Dr. Price caught Parker’s eye and he took her meaning and backed away.

Other than the sound of the Kent family’s crying, the room was silent.

Chief Howard broke the silence and asked Dr. Price to escort Allie to the hospital, where she would be examined. When Kent tried to join his wife and daughter, Mandy gave him such a withering look that he fell back into his seat.

“I’ll come by later,” he mumbled.

Parker sat on a corner of the desk and spoke to him.

“Mr. Kent, your charges are being dropped, and as for your daughter, well, there will be time to decide that after she’s been evaluated by Dr. Price.”

Kent wiped away his tears.

“What about Steve Grace? I swear to you, if I see him I’ll kill him.”

“Mr. Grace has been arrested and charged with several counts.”

“For what he did to my daughter?”

“Yes, and there are other girls, his girlfriend’s daughter for one, and a former neighbor back in Ohio. It seems Mr. Grace made a habit of ingratiating himself with middle-aged women as a means of getting near their daughters. Once I’d met his girlfriend, a woman in her forties, I began to suspect that he might be using her to get near her daughter, and when confronted by her mother, the girl told of her molestation.”

“Middle-aged women, women like Mandy, and I was so busy trying to screw his sister that I wasn’t looking out for my Allie. Oh God, this is all our fault, oh my poor baby.”

“We now believe that Tiffany either knew or suspected what her brother was, and that by babysitting Allie, she was actually hoping to protect her. It’s my guess that when Steve Grace went to your home the other night, he wasn’t there to see your wife, but your daughter.”

A uniformed cop was passing by and the chief waved him into the office.

“Simmons, please escort Mr. Kent to his car, or do you need a taxi Mr. Kent?”

“No, I... I have my car. Mandy and I came separately...apart.”

Kent rose to join the officer, but turned and stared back at Parker.

“Is my baby going to jail?”

“I’m not the D.A., Mr. Kent, but I doubt it. I think she needs help more than punishment.”

“Don’t we all,” Kent said, and then shuffled away.

10

That night, Parker answered his front door and found Rachel standing there, and she was looking as desirable as ever.

“Hi Rick,”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was actually here last night, but you weren’t home, I thought maybe you were with that new partner of yours.”

“It’s not like that; she’s my partner, period.”

Rachel smiled.

“Good, may I come in?”

Parker let her into the entryway and shut the door.

Rachel was on him in an instant as she pressed herself against him and kissed his lips.

“My lawyer says that you never signed the divorce papers. I know what that means, it means you want me back, it means you’ll take me back and everything will be just like it was.”

Parker felt the anger rising. Did she really think he was fool enough to take her back again?

“We’re over, Rachel, over!”

She kissed him once more and he felt a thaw beginning, a thaw that would culminate in a white heat of passion if he didn’t break their embrace, and she felt so good back in his arms, so damn good.

He reached back to grab something from the table by the door and his fingers touched a letter opener much like the one that had slain Tiffany Grace. He shoved Rachel away with one hand, even as he thrust out at her with the other, his actions fueled by rage.

Rachel’s eyes widened in shock, and pain spread across her face.

“It’s signed?” She whispered.

Parker thrust the paper at her again; it was their divorce decree. He had signed it the night before, upon returning home from his tryst with the passionate Cindy.

“Take it! We’re over, Rachel! Finished! I hope you have a very good life but I can’t be a part of it, not ever again.”

Rachel wiped at tears.

“I understand, and... I really do love you, you know?”

“Goodbye Rachel,”

She walked out, and he watched her drive away until he could no longer see her car, then, he went inside, leaned back against the door, and cried.

AVAILABLE NOW!

HOMICIDE!

Parker & Knight — Book 2

&

GAME OVER!

Parker & Knight —Book 3

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About The Author

Donald Wells is the author of numerous short stories and novels, including The TAKEN! Series, The Caliber Detective Agency, Blue Steele, Monsters & The Reynolds Family Saga.

He lives deep inside a writing cave in the wilds of New Jersey.

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COPYRIGHT

MURDER!

Copyright © Donald Wells, 2014

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced,

distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system,

without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Did you love Murder!? Then you should read Homicide! by Donald Wells!

From Donald Wells

The author of The Taken! Series, Blue Steele & The Caliber Detective Agency

Homicide - Parker & Knight - Book Two

When a missing person turns up dead, Parker & Knight are called on to solve the homicide.

The victim, Charles Woolley, was a manager of the local bar & grill named Taggart's.

Before long, Parker & Knight find that murder isn't the only crime they need to solve, and are soon risking their lives to learn the truth.

In the meantime, Parker, who is fresh from a divorce, finds himself growing more attracted to a young Taggart's waitress named Heather Jones, even as his past intrudes on the case.

In the end, death claims another victim and it's left to Parker & Knight to pick up the pieces.

Read more at Donald Wells’s site.

About the Author

Donald Wells is the author of The Taken! Series, Blue Steele, Monsters, Caliber Detective Agency & The Reynolds Family Saga.

When he's not writing he spends his time reading and when he's reading, he wishes he were writing.

A man of many talents, Mr. Wells invented the now much used term .com as well as the word "Dealy"

Before becoming a writer, Mr. Wells spent years as an aspiring pianist and was often known to spend hours at practice. If he had ever had access to a piano, who knows what heights he might have achieved.

A renowned Chocoholic, the town of Hershey, PA. is considering erecting a statue in his honor.

A little known fact: Mr. Wells was one of the original Back Street Boys.

Another of his talents is the writing of bogus biographies in the third person.

To learn about Mr. Wells' new releases and enjoy bonus content, please visit, www.donaldwells.com

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Read more at Donald Wells’s site.