Murder Times Four Box Set

Chapter 5-1

Chapter 5

I got back home Sunday morning around nine. As I turned the corner onto the Lane, I saw, first, that my front door was open, and second, that two men I didn’t know were busy putting in new glass where there had been broken windows only hours ago.

I jumped out of the car as soon as I’d parked in the driveway, intending to ask them who they were, and why they were there. I didn’t get the chance. Brent and Tyler came out of the house to waylay me.

“Don’t bite their heads off,” Brent said. “They work for Frank. He called and got them out here.”

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Frank owns a home remodeling business. A good one—so I wondered how much the new windows would set me back.

“Don’t worry,” Tyler said. “All you’re paying for is the glass, according to Frank. I think he’s feeling guilty that he and Eliot didn’t get back sooner and stop the bastard before it happened.”

“That’s stupid. It’s not their fault. Hell, if they had, he might have done something to them.”

Brent nodded. “That’s what I said, but obviously he disagrees.” He gripped my arm, steering me to the front door. “I think we got everything back where it belongs,” he said when we were inside.

From what I could see, we were—well—practically everyone. Even Ginger, although her husband and the Dunns weren’t there. Much to my surprise, I saw Neil by the bookcase, deep in conversation with Reed as they put the books the vandal had thrown around back on the shelves. I wondered why he was here, before realizing he was still on summer break. The rooms were back to normal again, and I thanked everyone profusely.

A shadow fell across the floor. I turned to see Steve standing in the doorway. “It looks like you’ve got a lot of good friends, Adam.”

“I do,” I replied. “I wasn’t looking forward to cleaning up, but now…”

“Hey,” Tyler said, slinging his arm around my shoulders. “That’s what friends are for. Of course now you have to break out the beer in payment.”

I laughed, going into the kitchen. Luckily, on my last shopping trip, I’d stocked up. There was still plenty left—even after our impromptu gathering on my back porch yesterday afternoon, when we’d decided to go to the comedy club.

I took as many as I could carry into the living room, handing around bottles. Tyler got more and soon everyone had a beer. Even Steve, after I asked if he could drink on duty.

“I’m finished for the day,” he told me. “None the wiser than I was when I got here this morning, I’m afraid.”

“He quizzed us to death,” Chase grumbled. “Not that we knew anything, since most of us were with you, Adam.”

“And we didn’t see whoever did this,” Eliot said. “They were gone before we got here.”

“I was awake,” Neil said, shyly. “But my room’s at the back of the house. I thought I heard something, but it didn’t register what it was until this morning, when I went out to get the paper and saw the broken windows.”

“It’s probably just as well you didn’t go check it out last night,” Steve told him. “If he was still there, he might have taken his anger out on you, instead of Adam’s house.”

“He’s right, Neil.” Brent took a long pull on his beer. “I wonder who he’ll go after next.”

“If we knew that,” Steve responded, “we could stop him before anything happens.”

“No kidding,” Dave said. “This is one time when I’m glad I don’t live alone.”

“One time?” Luke gave him a very incensed glare.

Dave pulled him close enough to kiss. “That did not come out the way I meant it.”

“I know,” Luke replied. “But it got me a kiss.”

Everyone laughed, easing the tension from what we’d been discussing. Of course, when I asked Steve, “Did your people find anything in here that might help find the bastard?” it ramped up again.

“Trace evidence, but until we catch him, and can match something to him, it’s useless. I’ll know about fingerprints once they’ve matched what they found to the ones they got from your friends.”

“Hopefully there will be some leftover ones that belong to the SOB,” Tyler said.

“Exactly,” Steve replied.

Brent finished his beer and took the bottle into the kitchen. I expected him to come back with another one. Instead, when he returned, he said, “We should get out of here and let Adam have some peace and quiet.”

I was surprised, but thankful. I could use some time alone to process everything that had happened. I didn’t last night. Instead, the minute I got into bed at the motel, I fell dead asleep.

As they left, I thanked everyone again for their help with the cleanup. Then it was only me and Steve. I wondered why he’d stayed behind, until he asked, “Have you eaten anything?”

“Not really. I grabbed a sweet roll from the motel’s continental breakfast table on the way out. That’s it.”

“Hardly healthy. Are you hungry?”

“I…yeah. Starving, now that you mention it.”

“Good. Well not good, good. Let’s go find somewhere to eat. My treat. My breakfast consisted of coffee.”

I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when it was a damned good-looking horse with a nice smile.

I followed Steve in my car, and we ended up at a restaurant not too far from the Lane. One that, honestly, I’d never been to. But then I rarely eat out. Saving my pennies and all that.

The place did breakfasts and brunches, so I split the difference and ordered a burger on a tortilla, topped with two fried eggs, and a side of hash browns. Steve was more plebian, getting a breakfast burrito with the hottest green chili they had.

“I have an ulterior motive for being here,” Steve said.

“I sort of figured.” Unfortunately, it was undoubtedly his wanting to talk about the murders and nothing more. I could deal.

“What our perp did to your house was full-out rage inspired. Whether it was a message for everyone, or just for you, is the question.”

I nodded. “So you want me to dig deep into my past and come up with someone who might have it in for me. I told you already, there isn’t anyone.”

Steve shook his head. “I know, and I don’t think it would tell us anything if there was. The more I go over what’s happened, the more certain I am that our perp is someone who lives on the Lane.”

“No way,” I protested.

“Think about it, Adam. He knew about you and Jake Wright. He had access to your keys, to get a copy made. He knew when you’d be gone long enough to trash your house. That smacks of someone close to you.”

“It also eliminates almost everyone, because I spent last evening with Brent, Reed, Chase, Dave, and Luke.”

“Leaving Frank, Eliot, the Dunns, and the Nelsons. Including Neil Nelson. And Tyler Sanders.”

“Tyler was at the theater.”

“True, but the last time he was on stage was twenty minutes before the end of the show. I checked. That gives him plenty of time to change into street clothes and get back to the Lane.”

“But he said he didn’t even get there until after the cops arrived.”

“He did arrive after them. That doesn’t preclude his having been there earlier.”

“I…guess.” For damned sure I didn’t want to think…“Wait a second. He and I were both shooting a film when Owen was murdered.

“Was he in every scene?”

“Well…no. When he wasn’t, he’s go into his dressing room. But there wouldn’t have been time for him to get dressed and go from there to Owen’s place, kill him, and get back to the studio. It’s a ten-minute drive each way.”

“Who says he had to get dressed?”

“Come on, Steve. Who plans on murdering someone in the nude?”

“A man who has no problem with being seen that way? Yeah, I know I’m probably reaching, but I’m not about to eliminate anyone at this point.”

We stopped discussing the murders when our food arrived. About halfway through, Steve said, “I never asked, when we were talking about Owen Parker having a key to your house. Where do you keep your keys when you’re at home?”

“On my dresser, with my wallet.”

“They’re the only set you have?”

“No. When I first moved in, I had a spare key made, in case I lost the original. It’s on a keyring with my extra car key.”

“Which is where?”

“On a hook in the garage. I figured that way, if I locked myself out of the house, or the car, I’d still be able to get in. Before you ask, I don’t lock the garage. There’s nothing in there worth stealing.

“Except your house keys,” he pointed out. “When we get back, you need to see if they’re still there. I suspect they will be, but it would have been easy enough for the killer to have taken them, have a copy made, and return them without your knowing.”

“Yeah. It’s not like it’s a big secret that’s where I keep them. I suggested Chase do it, when he locked himself out two weeks in a row.”

“Were other people around?” Steve asked.

I thought about it and nodded. “It was at the annual Labor Day party in the park last year. Anyone could have overheard, I guess. Of course that definitely eliminates Reed, since he only moved here a week or so before the Fourth.”

Steve nodded. “So now we have a pretty good idea how the killer was able to copy your key.”

“And no damned clue who he is!”

“We’ll find him,” Steve replied calmly, reaching over to grip my arm. “We just have to keep you safe until that happens.”

“And everyone else,” I protested. “I’m not the one who’s been murdered. At least so far.”

Releasing my arm, Steve chuckled. “Which is a good thing. I don’t like the idea eating brunch with a corpse. You’re way too animated, so I think you’re still alive.”

“Jeez, Steve. That gives me images I’d rather not have.”

“The walking dead?”

“Yeah. I never did get the appeal of zombie movies.”

“People like blood and gore,” Steve replied seriously. “As long as it doesn’t belong to them or someone they know.”

“Personally, I’ll take a good shoot ‘em up any day.”

“Have you seen Triple 9?”

“Nope,” I told him. “Is it any good?

“No clue. Do you want to find out? It’s playing at the triplex.”

That stopped me cold. Was he suggesting a date? Or did he just like going to movies with someone and I was handy. Either way, did I want to go with him? I studied him, liking what I saw. But looks aren’t everything. He seemed to be a nice man, dedicated to his job but relaxed enough not to come across as a hard ass about it.

“I take it your silence means no,” Steve said.

“Actually, yeah, I’d like to go see it with you.”

“Great. When are you free?”

“I do the morning and noon news tomorrow and Wednesday. The rest of the week it’s the five and nine shows.”

“Wednesday night then?” he asked. “I should be free, barring a sudden crime wave.”

“It’s a date.”

We finished eating before Steve brought up the murders again.

“Okay, we probably know how he was able to get your key to copy it. From Ginger Nelson’s call to 9-1-1, we know approximately when Owen Parker was murdered. Presuming she actually saw what she said she did.”

“You doubt her story?”

“Adam. Right now I’m not taking anything anyone’s told me at face value unless they have collaborating witnesses—the way the group of you who went to the club last night do.” He waved down our waitress at that point to pay her, then suggested we go back to my house to finish our discussion. “It’s more private there.”

As soon as we arrived, he asked me to show him where I kept my spare keys in the garage. I did, and with my permission, he took them. “The killer’s undoubtedly too smart to have left any fingerprints, but it’s worth checking,” he said, taking a plastic evidence envelope from his pocket and dropping them in it.

“Mine are definitely there,” I pointed out. “And probably those of whoever made the copies for him.”

“True. But, if there aren’t any prints, because he wiped them clean, that tells us something, too.”

We went inside, with Steve going in first to make certain I didn’t have an unannounced visitor, while I waited on the porch. When he said it was all clear, I gave a silent sigh of relief.

“Do you want some coffee?” I asked. “Or more coffee?”

“Sounds good.”

I went to load the coffee maker and turn it on. He followed, taking one of the stools at the island. When I sat on the other one, he took out his notebook and a pen.

“Okay. Let’s make a list of possible suspects,” he said.

“I thought we had.”

“Yes, but I didn’t write them down. So…Keith and Paula Dunn, Neil Dunn, Ginger and Mick Nelson, Frank Kendall, Eliot Hall, and despite your protests, Tyler Sanders.”

“Okay, I’ll buy into Tyler, but only reluctantly. Honestly, though, I don’t see why any of them would have gone on a murderous rampage.”

“Something set one of them off. Or one of them harbored a long term hatred—either of gays in general, or of one of the men living on the Lane. Have you ever read Agatha Christie’s ABC Murders?”

“No,” I replied, “but I know what it’s about. The murderer killed several people to cover up the fact he wanted one of them dead. That trope’s been done to death on TV and in the movies. Would anyone be stupid enough to think they could get away with it?”

Steve smiled grimly. “No one said killers are smart—just dedicated to whatever made them decide to murder someone in the first place. There’s also the possibility it isn’t just one killer.”

“Uh-huh. I don’t see the Nelsons or the Dunns deciding that, as a couple, they have to kill us for whatever reason.”

“Don’t forget Eliot Hall and Frank Kendall.”

“Damn, Steve. Now you’re really pushing it.”

“As I said…”

“You’re keeping all options open. I get that. But still…” I glanced at his list. “I’d scratch Neil Dunn. He’s never, or rarely, around. Also, he’s also awfully young to have a hate-on for us.”

“There are kids as young as twelve and thirteen who have murdered people. Take Jesse Pomeroy, for example. He was a serial killer who started at the age of eleven.”

“I’d rather not, thanks.” I had no clue who Pomeroy was, and I wasn’t certain I wanted to know.

“I’m getting off topic,” Steve said with a small smile. “Other than to refute your claim that Neil could be too young. It doesn’t take much to bash in a man’s head, or stab him to death. And for sure trashing your house is easy enough for anyone, if they have sense enough to get out before someone knows what’s going on.”

“So what do we do now?” I asked, getting up to pour our coffees. “Wait until they strike again and hope they fail this time?”

“No. You start talking to people.”

“Me?” I sat again, after handing him his cup.

“Yes. You’re friends with everyone. Invite them over for drinks and whatever—one or two at a time. Let them know you’re feeling a bit uptight about being alone, because you seem to be the reason behind what’s been happening, and you want some company. Especially after last night.”

“Like anyone will believe that. Yeah, we hang out in someone’s backyard after work or on weekends, when we’re in the mood. But me inviting people over…” I shook my head. “That’s not me, Steve. Beside which, no one would believe I’m so scared I don’t want to be alone. I’m not the wussy type.”

“What about a party? Does anyone have a birthday coming up?”

“Yep. Brent. But birthdays are always celebrated at the park—just like we do for holidays. It’s a group thing, and the park is big enough.”

“Everyone shows up?”

“If they can. At least for part of the time. I had to leave early from the one on the Fourth, because of my job. The same with Chase. That should be in Detective Irvin’s notes on Jake’s murder.”

“It was. So the party for Brent’s birthday is already planned?”

“As much as we plan anything. Dave and Luke provide tables and dishes. Chase took over providing the meat about a year after he moved here. Usually steaks and hamburger, because his uncle owns a wholesale meat company, so he gets them cheap. He and Owen do the cooking.” I sighed. “Well, Owen did. Now I guess it’ll be someone else. The rest of us bring whatever.”

“It’s always just the people who live on the Lane?”

“Yep.”

“Then you shouldn’t have any problem talking about the murders. Either with a few people, or when you can, one-on-one. When is his birthday?”

“Friday, but we’ll celebrate it on Sunday afternoon, when everyone’s free. Chase might or might not be there, depending on his schedule. Of course, with mine, I’ll be leaving early again, which could throw a spanner in the works.”

He smiled at me. “You’re clever. You’ll figure out a way to bring the subject up with the people you need to, in the time you have.”

“Not so sure about that, but I can try.”

“If Chase isn’t there, who’ll cook?”

“Probably Frank. He’s pretty good at it.” I grinned. “He’ll spend half his time shooing Eliot away, because Eliot can burn water, according to them.”

Steve smiled briefly. “If possible, you do that instead of Frank. It will put you in the center of things for a while, so you can watch everyone. Since we’ve eliminated Chase, the fact he might miss the party isn’t a problem.” He took a drink then said, “You’ll have to be subtle.”

“What? I can’t just come right out and ask so-and-so why they murdered Jake and Owen? Damn.”

He laughed. “Not hardly. Play up your connection with Jake, and the fact that Owen had…No. Damn it.”

I got it immediately. “No one but us knows the key you found was mine.”

“Yeah. I asked everyone if they recognized it, but I’ve never said I found out whose it was.”

“On purpose?”

“No. Why?”

“That could be my key, pardon the pun, to talking to people. I’m scared someone’s trying to make it look like I not only slept with Jake, which I did, but that I was also in a relationship with Owen, since he had the key to my house.”

Steve nodded slowly. “That could work. What will you say, if people you talk to wonder why your house was trashed?”

“The killer’s pissed I haven’t been arrested and wanted to force you to focus on me.”

“Which is probably the truth. Okay, we have a plan.”

“If…I can carry it out.”

“You can.” After taking another drink of coffee, Steve said, “About Wednesday.” I was certain he was going to back out. I was wrong. “We’ll meet at the theater at…” He took out his phone to check. “It’s showing at six-fifty and ten. Take your choice.”

“Which works for you?”

“The earlier one. So we’ll meet at the theater at six forty-five?”

“All right.”

After putting his phone away, he got up. “I should get out of here. We don’t want people wondering.”

“If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you had me going through the house again to make certain the guy hadn’t vandalized the place to cover up his taking something.”

Steve smirked. “Like your diary, detailing all your assignations with Jake and Owen, and who knows who else around here.”

“Uh-huh. I don’t do diaries. Still…What if he was looking for evidence I’ve been carrying on with someone else on the Lane? Which I haven’t been,” I hastened to add. “Jake was the only one, as brief as it was.”

“Nice to know. And a good point. Maybe that’s exactly what he was doing.” He nodded slowly. “Possible. Definitely possible. Okay, I’ll see you Wednesday evening, barring something more happening in the meantime.”

“God, let’s hope not.”