Murder in the Aisles (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

There were only two weeks before the presidential inauguration, his second term, but that news was overshadowed by the television and print media's non-stop coverage of the murders. It would be beyond a public relations and credibility disaster if it were to be discovered, after the fact, that Steven Hollis was a multiple murderer. But her gut told her that Hollis was being framed. Why, was the question, and by whom? She also believed that the answer rested in scouring through Steven Hollis's life. She needed to get her hands on the cameras that covered the entrances, the employee entrance in particular. These were no random murders. Someone who had access to the building and the offices and knew that layout did it.

The only staff member that came immediately to mind that may have had something to gain was the Deputy Librarian—on the off chance that with Wallington out of the way the president would see him as the most likely candidate and would fill the position expeditiously. However, that was a bit too obvious—unless of course the murder of Dr. Dresden was the setup to throw off the real reason for Wallington's murder.

Felicia shook her head. She didn't like that scenario. What she would concede, however, was that the only connection between the two murders was Steven Hollis. She opened the folder that Lucy had prepared on the selection process for the Poet Laureate. It was quite extensive. She flipped through the pages of all the poets that had been reviewed and denied until she got to Steven Hollis.

There was a black and white photo of him clipped to his documents. Good-looking guy in an ordinary sort of way. She unclipped the pages and laid them out on her desk. Methodically she went through every line, highlighting things that may be important: where he was born, schools he attended, where he'd lived, his list of publications and any articles that were written about him. Buried in this information was the answer to her question of “who” but it kept eluding her.

It has to be someone he knows who works at the library

That someone has access and knowledge of the tunnel system

They stayed late on both nights

They have an irrational hatred for Steven Hollis

What she needed to do now was cross-reference the staff with Steven Hollis. But in order to do that she needed employee records, which she couldn't get, not to mention that there were thousands of employees.

Felicia flopped back into her seat. Her mind ran over the possibilities. She couldn't do it, but Mark could. She picked up the phone and dialed the precinct since she wanted this to be a professional call, not a personal one by calling his cell.

“Yes, I'd like to speak with Detective Rizzo, please.”

She waited for several moments and then his voice rippled through her.

“Rizzo.”

“Hello, Detective.”

“Well…hello. Is everything all right?”

The sound of general concern in his voice did something to her. “Yes, I'm fine. I think I may have come across something that would help the investigation.”

“Felicia, I told you to stay out of it.”

“I haven't done anything. I swear, but I think I might know how they got away without being seen. And you're going to need a search warrant for the employee files.”

“What?”

“I don't want to talk about it over the phone. Um, can we meet later?”

“I'll come to you.”

The implication tightened her nipples. “I should be home by six thirty. How about seven?”

“I'll be there.”

“Thank you, Detective.”

“I don't have to tell you again to be careful, but I'm going to tell you anyway. Be careful.”

She smiled. “I will.”

“Seven,” he said and disconnected the call.

Felicia lowered her cell phone to her desk in concert with the soft knock on her partially opened door.

“Yes, come in.”

Emily poked her head in. “Good morning, Dr. Swift.”

“Emily. Hi. What can I do for you?”

She hovered in the doorway.

“Come in.” Felicia waved her inside.

“I just wanted to thank you for talking with me. It really meant lot. And if there is anything I can do…” Her gaze fluttered over the papers on Felicia's desk. “…to help, all you have to do is ask.”

Felicia folded her hands together. “I appreciate that, and I will certainly keep that in mind as soon as things get back to a new normal.”

Emily pushed her glasses up on her nose and nodded. “Well, I'd better get to work. Thank you again, Dr. Swift.”

Felicia offered a tight-lipped smile. “Anytime.”

Emily walked out and closed the door behind her. Felicia was contemplative for several moments. She pushed back from her desk and stood. She was going to pay Bob another visit.

* * * * *

“Dr. Swift,” Bob greeted in real surprise. “Two visits in less than a week. How did you make out with the security system?”

For a moment she didn't know what he meant, and then she remembered her ruse. She smiled. “Oh, you were so much help. I've got a couple of companies lined up.”

“Great. So, what can I do for you today?”

She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “I need to see the printout of employee swipes on the fifth of January.”

The computer system documented every time an employee swiped in and out of the building.

Bob gave a slight shrug. “Sure. Give me a sec. Trouble with staff?”

“I sure hope not,” she said in a tone that lulled him into a sense of camaraderie. “But sometimes people try to take advantage. You know how people can be.”

He chuckled. “I sure do.” He continued scanning the computer for the date, then hit print.

“Oh and could you also print out the list from the day before yesterday?” she casually asked.

“Sure.” He hesitated, then looked up at Felicia. “Isn't that the day Dr. Wallington…?”

“Is it? Oh,” she gasped and pressed her hand to her chest. “It is.” She lowered her head and shook it slowly.

“I didn't know him well,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “I'm sure you knew him better, working with him and all.”

Felicia nodded. “Yes,” she murmured.

“I'm real sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“Let me get that list.” He turned back to the computer, located the date and hit print. He handed the pages over to Felicia.

“Thanks so much, Bob.” She took the papers.

“Not a problem, Dr. Swift. Anytime.”

“Take care, Bob.” She hurried out, anxious to get back to her office. Once she was there she went through the listings, looking for what, she wasn't sure. She started by isolating any staff member in the Jefferson Building that was still in the building after six. There were thirty. From there she eliminated them by the time they swiped out until she was down to less than a handful. On the night of Dr. Dresden's death the last staff member to swipe out was Dr. Wallington, which made sense since he had a meeting with Steven Hollis. She then went on to check on the night of Dr. Wallington's murder. Everyone was logged out of the building by six.

Felicia flopped back in her seat and tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. But if they left and hid out in the tunnels only to come back later, checking what time they swiped out wouldn't help.

She stared at the two lists again, going over each name and creating an image in her mind. More than half the people on the lists were too old or in some way infirm to be able to hurt anyone. The rest seemed unlikely for a variety of reasons; two were temps, one was a volunteer, two were barely out of their teens. That left three, one of whom was Lucy, who couldn't hurt a fly. She studied the list again.

Her pulse quickened. The pieces were slipping into place. She gathered up her papers, shoved them into a folder and then inside her tote. She grabbed her phone and coat, checked her office then locked up and rushed out.

She needed to lay it all out to Mark. She hurried to her car with the intention of going straight home. She was coming up on an intersection just before a turn onto the highway, and the next thing she knew the EMS worker telling her to relax and asking if she was all right.

The deployment of the airbag as a result of the T-bone with a delivery truck had knocked her unconscious for several minutes.

She was able to get out of the car on her own and was sitting in the back of an ambulance being examined by an emergency worker and questioned by a police officer.

“Can you tell me what happened, ma'am?” the officer asked.

Felicia closed her eyes for a moment. “I was coming down the street. I saw the stop sign at the intersection.” Her gaze flitted around. “I stepped on the brake and…nothing happened.” Her eyes leaped to the officer's. “Nothing happened.”

The officer nodded. “We'll get the car checked.”

“You need to go to the hospital, ma'am,” the EMS worker advised. “You've had a head injury.”

“I need to get my things from the car.” Her head was beginning to pound. “How is the other driver?”

“Shook up, but fine. Minor damage to the truck. You're very lucky,” the officer said.

His partner walked over with her purse and tote bag. “This is all that I saw. Was there anything else?”

A tow truck had pulled up. The driver took Felicia's information and advised her where her car would be located. She watched in awe as her beautiful Navigator was loaded onto a flatbed. The entire right side was smashed in. The front bumper was hanging off, apparently from when she wound up on the sidewalk and hit the fire hydrant. She couldn't be sure. The beginning of panic skittered along the column of her spine. Dark spots appeared in front of her eyes. Her breath trembled in her chest.

“We're taking you to University Hospital in case you need to call anyone,” the EMS tech said. He strapped her onto the stretcher, then took a real good look at her. Her fingers were curling into fists. “Ms. Swift, I need you to focus on me, okay? Take slow deep breaths.”

She tried but she couldn't. All she could see was
that night
, trapped.

The EMS worker snatched an oxygen mask from the hook and placed it over her mouth. “Deep breaths. You're having a panic attack. That's all. I need you to try to relax and breathe.”

Felicia nodded and began to count slowly in her head. By degrees her breathing normalized and the shadows moved into the distance. She relaxed against the pillow and closed her eyes for the ride to the hospital.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Fee, what the hell happened? Are you okay?” Elizabeth tossed her purse in a chair and rushed to Felicia's bedside in the emergency room. A bag of clear fluid was dripping through a tube into her arm.

“Thanks for coming, Liz,” Felicia whispered over the pounding in her head.

Elizabeth leaned over the rail and lightly kissed her forehead, where a bruise was starting to form.

Haltingly, Felicia recounted the events as she remembered them and filled in the blanks from what the officer said.

“Christ, Fee. You could have been killed.”

Felicia reached for Elizabeth and her hand shook. She grabbed Elizabeth's wrist. “I'm hoping it was some crazy accident,” she whispered. “But I don't think so.”

“What the hell are you saying?”

Felicia swallowed. “I don't think it was an accident. My truck is barely six months old. No way the brakes suddenly gave out with no warning.” Her lids drifted close. “No way.”

Her cell phone vibrated on the table next to her bed. Elizabeth reached for it. “Hello?”

“Um, hello. I'm trying to reach Felicia Swift. This is Detective Rizzo.”

“This is her friend Liz. Fee's been in an accident, Detective. She's at University Hospital.”

* * * * *

Less than a half hour later Mark was badging his way through the emergency room until he reached Felicia. Liz was tucked away in a chair near the back wall of the tiny cubicle space.

Mark's face was flushed from the rush of adrenalin that shot through his veins. The short ride over was the longest in his life. A million horrible scenarios raced through his head. But even seeing her all in one piece and apparently only slightly bruised didn't do much to alleviate his anxiety.

“Felicia,” he said in an urgent whisper.

She offered a weak smile. “Hey…how did you know I was here?”

“I went to your house to meet you at seven and when you didn't show up by eight, I called your cell and got Liz. She told me you were here. I talked to the officer on the scene.” He swallowed and rocked his jaw. “He said you were really lucky.”

“It wasn't an accident.”

His eyes locked onto hers. “What are you saying?”

“They used the tunnels.”

“What?”

“The tunnels. Whoever did it used the tunnels.”

“Felicia, you're not making sense.”

“They gave her something for the pain,” Liz offered. “She's a little loopy.”

“What are the doctors saying?”

“She has a mild concussion. Nothing broken. She'll feel worse before she feels better, but they wanted to keep her overnight for observation. They are going to move her to a room as soon as one opens up.”

Mark nodded but couldn't take his eyes off of Felicia.

Elizabeth stepped closer to Mark. “She told me what's been going on, that she's been investigating.” She shook her head. “I told her to stay out of it and now this.”

The corners of Mark's dark eyes tightened. “Now this?” he asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Fee swears this could not have been an accident. She said the car is brand new. There was no indication that there was a problem with the brakes and then suddenly…” She let the idea hang in the air.

Mark's jaw clenched. He mopped his face with his hand. “Where's her car?”

“It was towed. Wait, they gave her a receipt.” She went through the papers in Felicia's purse, found the receipt and handed it to Mark.

“I'm going to look into it.” He shoved the receipt in his pocket. “She can go home tomorrow, right?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“I'll be here.”

Elizabeth offered a wan smile. “It would be great if you could take her home.”

“Not a problem,” he said, staring at Felicia's sleeping form. “I'll take care of her.” He paused. “Look, I gotta go. Let her know I'll be here in the morning to take her home.”

“I will.”

Mark turned to leave.

“Detective.”

Mark glanced over his shoulder.

“Don't let anything happen to my friend.”

He gave a short nod and strode out.

* * * * *

Felicia sat on the side of bed while the doctor gave her instructions for her aftercare along with a week's supply of pain medicine.

“Only take as needed,” the doctor said. “You're going to have headaches for about a week. You need to rest as much as possible. If the headaches get worse or persist for more than a week you need to come back and be seen.” He handed her a bottle of Percocet. “Only as needed,” he warned again. “They will make you a little groggy, so keep that in mind as you move through your day.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself, Ms. Swift.” He turned and walked out just as Mark appeared in the doorway.

A slow smile bloomed on Felicia's face. “Hey.”

Mark crossed the room, passing an empty bed in the two-bed room. He stopped in front of her, letting his gaze move over her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, considering. Thanks for coming.”

“Come on, let's get you out of here.” He helped her to her feet.

Once inside Mark's car Felicia haltingly launched into her suspicions and what she had found.

“Hold on, hold on.” He held up his hand. “As much as I want to know, let's get you home and settled and then we can talk. Okay? For now, sit back, close your eyes and relax.”

Felicia reluctantly did as she was told.

When they arrived at her house, Mark parked in the driveway and ushered Felicia inside.

“The first thing I want to do is sit in a hot bath. I'm aching all over,” she said, easing out of her coat.

Mark took the coat from her and hung it up in the hall closet. “I can run a bath for you if you want.”

Felicia looked at him and they were both frozen in the moment of possibilities. She swallowed.

“I can manage. But maybe you can whip up something for us to eat. I'm starving.”

He gave a half shrug. “Sure.”

Felicia put her purse down and pulled out the folder from her tote bag with all of her notes: the information from Lucy and the logs from Bob and the printouts from Harriette and Derrick. “Some light reading.” She took her cell phone out of her purse, logged in with her password and clicked on the recording link. “This is everything.” She handed him the phone. “I'm going to take my bath now.” She walked away and up the stairs.

Mark listened to that raw voice that made him crazy and forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying and not how she said it. Her intuition and research skills easily rivaled some of his best investigators. She didn't miss a beat. The more he listened the more convinced he became that it was an inside job and it was all done to hurt Steven Hollis.

While he listened he hunted around in the fridge and found a roasted chicken and decided to make sandwiches. He opened the folder with the paperwork inside as he sliced the chicken, lettuce and tomatoes. Someone went to a hell of a lot of trouble to try to set Hollis up as some kind of fraud. But according to Hollis he didn't have beef with anyone. At least none that he knew of. However, it was someone who worked at the library and at some point in time had a connection with Hollis, a connection that festered and resulted in murdering two people and nearly killing another.

“I was going to run background on the staff and compare it to what I found out about Hollis, his life, whereabouts, etcetera,” Felicia said as she walked into the kitchen, tightening the belt on her robe. As she hopped on the armless chair, her robe slid open, revealing a smooth brown thigh. Mark tore his gaze away.

“I'm requesting a search warrant for the employee files.”

“That's what I would have done,” Felicia teased.

Mark chuckled and loaded up the whole wheat bread with the sliced chicken and fixings. “Really?”

“Yep.”

He put her sandwich on a plate and slid it across to her.

“Thanks.”

His cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and pressed the talk icon. “Rizzo.” He frowned as he listened. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks. Hold on to that report for me. I'll swing by and pick it up.” He disconnected the call, looked down then across at Felicia. “I had your car towed to the police mechanic from where it was taken. Your brake lines had been cut.” He watched the array of expressions move across her face from shock to acceptance to fear. “We're going to find out who did this.”

Mark crossed the small space between them and came to stand in front of her. He placed his finger beneath her chin and lifted it until she was looking at him. “I'm going to make sure that nothing happens to you. Do you understand?”

All Felicia could do was nod.

He cupped her cheeks in his palm. “Promise.” He knew he shouldn't but he lowered his head until his lips touched down on hers and when she moaned against his mouth he lost all sense of right and wrong. He tugged on the belt of her robe until it fell open. His open palms glided up her waist to cup her breasts, which overflowed over his fingers. His thumbs brushed and teased her nipples to erection. His mouth slid down from hers and planted kisses along her neck, down the valley of her breasts until he took a nipple in his mouth.

Felicia whimpered. Her body shuddered. She held the back of his head while he gently suckled her.

Mark slid a hand between her parted thighs and fingered the wet slit that welcomed him. He then grabbed her behind and tugged her forward on the chair until she was on the edge of it before he lowered himself between her legs.

Felicia gripped the edge of the counter and bit down on her lip as if to keep from screaming.

Mark hummed with hunger against her, savoring the sweetness of her essence. He felt her inner thighs tremble and her body shudder every time his tongue brushed her clit, which was hard and erect. He gripped her harder, licked her deeper. Her moans deepened and rose with intensity. Her breathing escalated. A light sheen of perspiration covered her body.

Felicia's fingers dug into his shoulders as the first wave of release crashed through her, carrying with it the cry of his name, which only propelled Mark to take her higher.

Mark stood, lifted her in his arms and backed her up against the wall. Felicia wrapped her legs around his waist and let him in. They groaned with pleasure. Mark buried his face between her breasts as he thrust toward heaven. His breathing was erratic, his grip vise-like and his cock had hardened to the breaking point.

Felicia grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head back until he was looking at her. She covered his mouth with hers, dipped her tongue deep into his mouth and welcomed his explosion.

“Told myself I wasn't gonna do this again,” Mark said as they sat on the floor together folded around each other. He stroked her hair.

“Hmm,” she hummed against his chest. “Me, too.”

“Can't let whatever this is get in the way.”

“Of course not.” She sighed heavily. “Now I'm really hungry,” she said, laughing.

Mark chuckled and helped her to her feet. He tied the belt on her robe and fastened his pants. “Something about this kitchen,” he said, amused.

Felicia laughed and quickly dug into her sandwich.

* * * * *

After lunch they talked, reviewed notes, and compared theories until Felicia said that she was tired and her head was beginning to hurt again. Mark got her medicine and she took her pill.

“Why don't you get some rest? I have some things to take care of. I can come back later if you want.”

She looked up at him from her spot on the couch and a slow smile moved across her mouth. “Detective, I just might need protecting later.” She pushed up from her seat and stood in front of him. “But I think we should stay out of the kitchen.”

He leaned down and lightly kissed her lips. “I'll keep that in mind. Let me get you settled and then I'm gonna head out.”

They went upstairs to her bedroom.

“Hmm, those meds work really quickly,” she said as she crossed the threshold to her room. She stretched out on her side, then curled into a fetal position.

Mark looked around for a blanket to put over her. Not seeing one in the immediate area he opened her closet and was stunned by the contents. The massive walk-in was complete with shelving, drawers, mirrors and rows of clothes that rivaled any major boutique. He didn't know much about women's fashion but he knew instinctively that the contents were worth thousands. He shouldn't be surprised. Felicia was always impeccably dressed, looking like she belonged on a runway and not behind a desk—or digging into a murder investigation. He looked up and saw several cotton throws folded on the top shelf. He took one down, brought it to the bed and covered her.

“Thanks,” she murmured sleepily.

“That's some closet you have,” he said. “Is that your real hobby—shopping?”

Felicia smiled. “We all have our vices, and clothes and books are mine.”

Mark leaned down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “See you in a few hours.”

“Hmm, umm,” she murmured.

Felicia listened for the sounds of her door closing. Moments later she heard the engine of Mark's car start up. She drew in a long, relaxing breath and let the medicine do its work. She smiled, thinking about her afternoon with Mark. Where was this going? What was really happening? Her mind grew foggy and couldn't process the information.

Just as she drifted into sleep, her thoughts shifted to what Mark said about clothes. Clothes had been the things that had been nagging her in the back of her mind. She groped though the fog of the medication. She needed to grab hold before she was pulled under. Dresden's jacket…Emily's dress. Her heart jumped. Emily's dress! It was the last thing she thought before sleep captured her.