Mortal Crimes: 7 Novels of Suspense (85 page)

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Authors: J Carson Black,Melissa F Miller,M A Comley,Carol Davis Luce,Michael Wallace,Brett Battles,Robert Gregory Browne

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Crime

BOOK: Mortal Crimes: 7 Novels of Suspense
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“Yeah, I suppose you have a point. In my book, he’s still someone we should be keeping a close eye on.”

“We will, but at the gym yesterday, surrounded by skimpily clad females, he was being the role-model husband, unlike his mates.”

“That might have been for your benefit. Did some of those muscle-bound morons hit on you?”

“Not exactly. Two of his friends were with him when I arrived. They moved away when we started chatting. I caught them gawping at us during our conversation. Both of them were real creeps.” She shuddered, remembering how she felt walking past the two men when it was time for her to leave the gym.

“I’ll make the coffee. If you have to go down there again, I’ll come with you. Got it?”

She placed her hands over her heart and fluttered her eyelashes at him for a second time. “My hero. What would I do without you being here to hold my hand?”

He stomped out of the room, mumbling under his breath, “I give up. I try to be nice, and what thanks do I get?”

Ellen stifled a laugh and turned on her own computer to search her inbox. She downloaded the files from Jenny and hit the print button. By the time Brian walked back into the room with the coffees, she had collected the files from the printer and laid them out in neat piles on her desk. She reached for her yellow Post-it pads and wrote down the girls’ names, then placed each on the relevant pile.

“Now, where do we start?” She cradled the mug of coffee Brian handed to her and debated what to do next. “How about we go backwards through the list? Start with the girl who went missing last? I’m not talking about the most recent two.” She picked up a pile of papers and read the name out loud. “Melody Davidson, twenty-nine, married, missing since Octoberfifth.”

“Seems like a great idea to me. Do you want a hand with that, or do you want me to be getting on with something else?”

She gave him one of her I-have-this-task-under-control looks. “I’d like you to see what else you can dig up about Tina Jones. Create a file for her. I can take it home and go over the details with the others at home tonight.”

“You mean discuss it with Jim tonight?”

Was that offence lingering in his tone? No, Brian would never get offended like that, would he?
“Is that all right?” she asked hesitantly.

“Sure, I suppose. All right… you asked, so I’m telling you. I don’t think you should really be discussing this with your brother. It’s our case—cases, I mean. When we solve it—which we will—who’s going to take the credit? The police? The national hotline? We need to be looking at raising our own profile here. We’re trying to run a successful business, aren’t we?”

Ellen could tell by the way he kept fidgeting that Brian felt uncomfortable divulging his true feelings. She admired and appreciated him pointing out her mistake, but on the other hand, the police, in the form of her brother, could be vital in their quest to solve the cases. She’d seen it before. They had both seen it before, during their time on the force. Sometimes the slightest clue triggers a memory about another relative case, or a name comes up that has a connection to a similar crime or MO.

“I completely understand what you’re saying, and ordinarily, I would totally agree with you. However, this case, these cases, need all the teams available to bring them to a satisfactory conclusion. My aim, our aim, has to be to bring the girls home safely, doesn’t it?”

He nodded his acquiescence but remained thoughtful as he got on with his work. “Okay,” was all he said.

Ellen knew that his brain was working at lightning speed, coming up with another reason for her to consider keeping things in house, as it were.

She hated falling out with Brian. They’d been very close friends for over eight years. She screwed up a piece of paper and aimed it at him. He took a direct hit on the forehead. He turned and glared at her. She pulled a few funny faces, and his mouth broke into a broad smile. “You know I’m right.”

He sighed. Nonetheless, his smile remained firmly in place. “Yeah, you usually are,” he conceded eventually.

Satisfied that a major argument had been averted, Ellen got down to business and searched for the contact name and number in the file for Melody Davidson.

“Hello, Mr. Davidson?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“You don’t know me, sir. My name is Ellen Brazil. I’m working alongside the National Missing Persons Bureau, investigating a missing person. I wondered if you could spare me a few moments.”

“I don’t understand. Are you working on Melody’s case?”

“In a roundabout way. I’m looking at several cases of women who have gone missing over the past few months in the Worcester area, and your wife’s name cropped up.”

“I see, I think. What is it you want to know?”

“First of all, I’d like to say that the last thing I want to do is upset you. So if at any time you’d like to end the call, feel free to do so,” Ellen said, picking up the notes in readiness.

“Go on.”

“Can you tell me the circumstances behind your wife’s disappearance?”

“I don’t know what more I can add to what has already been said. It was our wedding anniversary that weekend, before… we were very much in love.”

“Can you tell me where you think she went missing?”

“In the centre of Worcester. No one saw anything. The police made enquiries but found nothing.”

“It says here that your wife was out with friends.”

He let out a shuddering breath. “I asked her not to go, pleaded with her even, but one of the girls was emigrating to Australia. It was her leaving party. She skipped our wedding anniversary dinner to go out with her friends… and now I’ll never celebrate another one with her.”

“Please, remain positive, Mr. Davidson. These things have a tendency to come out fine. Sometimes, people need to take a break from life’s stresses and strains.”

“But that’s just it. She didn’t have any stress. We talked all the time. She would have told me—she didn’t. Please, Ms. Brazil… please find my wife. I’m like a sinking ship without her. It’s only a matter of time before—”

“Mr. Davidson, please. You mustn’t think like that. If Melody is out there, I swear to you, I will find her.”

“That’s what the police said. They haven’t been in touch with me since that one and only time they interviewed me—as a suspect, I might add. I’d never do anything to hurt my Melody. Never.”

Ellen knew that it was police procedure to suspect the other halves in cases such as this to begin with. Nowadays, so many perceived happy marriages involved abuse that thorough checks were always carried out. Some of the abusers, in extreme cases, even cracked during the interviews and ended up leading the police to their partners’ buried or dismembered bodies.

“Did you or the police speak to your wife’s best friend?”

“Yes, the police questioned Stacy, and then I pleaded with her to tell me if Melody had any secrets. She broke down and swore blind that she would tell me if she knew anything that would help find Melody.”

Ellen then asked her usual question. “Did your wife have any debts, something that might have come to light since her disappearance?”

“Nothing. My wife had everything she ever wanted or needed. Everything.” He emphasised every syllable of the final word to get his point across.

“Well, now that I’ve made contact with you, Mr. Davidson, and I’ve added your wife’s case to our ongoing investigation, I want to assure you that I will do everything I can to, hopefully, bring you some good news about Melody soon.”

“I hope so. The doctor has told me to stay off work for another two weeks. I’m climbing the walls here, surrounded by memories of Melody. I find myself staring at the front gate most of the day, praying that she’ll walk through it and back into my arms. I need to get my life back on track. It’s so cold outside, if only I knew she was warm and not hungry.”

Ellen gave him her telephone number. “Call it anytime. I hope to get back to you soon. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“Please find her,” Mr. Davidson said before they ended the call.

“That’s so sad. He, like Will Endersbe, obviously loves his wife. What the heck happened to them, Brian? Why would anyone either kill or abduct such beautiful, contented women like that?”

“Why does the sun shine? Or why is the world round?” Brian replied with a shrug. “You only have to see the daily news to know what a vile world we live in, and from what I can see, it’s only going to get a lot worse before it gets any better.”

“I know. I really despise it at times.” Ellen contemplated her own miserable life for a moment or two. Then she chastised herself for being so maudlin. It was only truly miserable when that bastard of a stepdad was around. “Onwards. Who’s next? Ah yes, Rachel Moore.” She moved Melody Davidson’s file to one side, handling it gently, like a valuable ornament, and selected the file belonging to the next girl on the list. “Rachel Moore. We don’t appear to have much on her except that she went missing on the tenth of September. Aged twenty-eight. Crap, it says here that she was out celebrating passing all her law exams. She was due to start at McNicholls and Partners the following week.”

“Wow, good luck handling her next of kin.”

“Yeah, maybe I should delay that one.”

Brian chuckled. “Not like you to be a coward. Go on, dive in.”

Ellen gulped down the saliva that had formed in her mouth and picked up the phone. “Is that Mr. Moore?”

“It is,” the man replied abruptly.

“Mr. Moore, you don’t know me. I’m Ellen Brazil. I’m working alongside the National Missing Persons Bureau on a case which we believe might be linked to your daughter’s.”

“Have you found her?” The man’s tone had softened.

“No. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to get your hopes up.”

The man exhaled a weary breath. “Damn. Then what can I do for you? I’ve told the police everything I know.”

“You can tell me exactly where your daughter went missing. She was out celebrating, wasn’t she?”

“That’s right. In the centre of Worcester. I’ve lived and worked here all my life, and not once have I felt unsafe to walk the streets, neither has Rachel. She’s not a stupid girl, Ms. Brazil. She wouldn’t have gone off with a stranger, got into a stranger’s car or anything like that. Other girls might, but not my Rachel.”

Okay, so that means
if
she went off with someone, it was with someone known to her.
“I’m sorry for being so personal, but it’s an important question that I need to ask. Did your daughter have any debts? Any reason to just pack up and leave?”

“None. I put her through university. She had no debts from that. My daughter looks after any money she has earned. She’s not one of these girls who feels compelled to keep up with the latest fashions.”

“Were any of her clothes missing? Any suitcases at all?”

“No, nothing. My wife and I went through her things when the police asked us to, and like we told them, nothing was missing. She received no unwelcome phone calls in the weeks leading up to that night. It’s as though she’s dissolved into thin air.”

“Okay, I’m going to be looking into a few cases, like I said. If I find the teeniest bit of information that I think you’ll be interested in, I’ll ring you as soon as I can.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. Goodbye.”

Distracted by the thoughts running through her mind, Ellen hung up.

“What’s up?” Brian called over.

“Sorry, I was miles away. Something Rachel’s father just said triggered something.”

“Come on, woman. Spit it out?” Brian left his desk and perched on the edge of hers, looking down at her.

“Her father said that Rachel would
never
get into a car with a stranger.”

“So? Most women I know would say the same.”

She looked up at him and tutted. “Don’t you get it?” He shook his head and frowned. “If Rachel got in a car with anyone, it was with someone she
knew
. Maybe we should be looking more closely at these girls’ friends or acquaintances, to see if any of them are connected. What do you think?”

“You might be onto something. However, that will take a long time to sort through. Our main priority has to be Donna Endersbe. After all, her husband is the one paying our bill. We shouldn’t forget that.” He swept his hand over the files on her desk. “These girls shouldn’t take precedence over Donna. We need to remain focused on her, for the time being, anyway. If we find Donna, it might lead us on to find out more about the other girls, too.”

Brian was right, but deep down, something was beginning to fester, like an itch that was driving her crazy but was too far out of reach to scratch.

Ellen had been on the phone to relatives off and on all day. At four thirty in the afternoon, the dark evening was already settling in outside. “I’m going to ring Jasmine Salter’s relatives and then call it a day.”

“Good idea. That’ll leave one more case to deal with in the morning, won’t it?”

Ellen pulled a face. She hated leaving a job only half-finished. She selected Abbie Falk’s file and quickly scanned through it. “Abbie’s mother lives around the corner from me—well, Jim’s place. I could call in on the way home.”

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