Murder Takes A Bow - A Betty Crawford Mystery (The Betty Crawford Mysteries) (18 page)

The rage was almost palpable.

The sounds coming from the house stopped. Slowly, people began to talk. Betty heard the reporter speaking into a microphone.

"The victim is thirty two year old Melody Biel. In the 9 1 1 call her husband placed, he said he found his wife strangled with her cheerleading outfit from high school. We have yet to receive any confirmation from police. But the noise you just heard seemed to be her husband overcome with grief…"

Betty felt sick to her stomach.

Bill left the house and came out towards the crowd. He held up his hands, as if he could push them all away with only willpower. "Alright everyone," he said, "I’d appreciate it if you would all go home. Or, if you have to stay here, at least get out of the way so the ambulance can leave."

No one moved.

Well, Betty wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. She had information, and Bill needed it. She wasn’t about to let anyone else die for her silence. Betty pushed her way to the front of the crowd. "Bill!" she called

Bill searched her out, eyes lighting on her just before she made it to the edge of the wooden barriers where he was standing. "Betty, I can’t really talk right now. So, unless you have news related to Melody’s murder…"

"That’s just it," she said breathlessly. "I do. And about Jarvis too."

A few townspeople turned around to look at her. Betty belatedly realized that it might not be the best idea to let everyone know exactly what she knew. Bill moved the barrier to let her in before pulling her a several yards up the driveway. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes before speaking to her. He kept his voice low.

"This better be good Betty. I’m in the middle of a crime scene."

Briefly, Betty explained everything she knew about Melody’s panicking and the inventory book and the online auction. She told him all about her visit to the Biel residence in the morning with Clarise. "It proves that the murders are connected" she finished; "Bill, don’t you see? This might not be the end of it. This person, they might keep on killing!"

Bill shook his head. "It’s a good theory Betty," he said, "but the two murders are completely different. One was the clubbing of a man, and the other is the strangulation of a woman. If it were a serial killer, or if the murders were done by the same person, normally they’d be done in at least similar ways. The victims have nothing in common."

"They have the theater in common! And I told you, Melody was about to come forward with some evidence. I think it’s all connected to these online auctions."

Bill sighed and steered her back towards the barrier. "I’ll look into it Betty. But it’s a long stretch. We don’t even know that those items were from the theater." He hugged her around the shoulders. "And as for thinking that the visit you had with her somehow caused her death… don’t even think it. This was not in any way, shape or form your fault. Got it?"

Betty pulled out of his arms and glared at him. How could he be so cavalier about this? She was right. She knew she was right! There was no way that everything was a coincidence.

Well, if he wasn’t going to take her seriously then she would have to take matters into her own hands. She’d have to prove to him that the murders were connected. She eyed the crowd. Many of them had already left, but a few handfuls of people had hung back, waiting to see the outcome of their conversation. The camera crew was still there, but Betty was willing to bet that the murderer wasn’t going to have to wait and see the story on the night time news. They were probably right in front of her, getting a thrill off of being so close to being caught.

Feeling a rush of adrenaline, Betty said loudly at Bill’s back, "You know I’m right! I know why these people are being murdered, and I have the proof to back it up!"

Bill spun to look at her. His face grew red, his mouth opening and closing mutely. He strode forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her forward and forcing her to keep walking until they were hidden behind the fire engine.

"Are you insane?" he said, his voice shaking. "Do you want to die?"

Betty shook his hand off. "Bill, don’t worry about it. It’s perfect! Now, if I’m right, someone will come after me. Only you’ll be right there to catch them. And besides, it’s true. I know the auctions have to do with this Bill."

Bill stood back and looked at her. "Betty, do you have any idea what you’re letting yourself in for?"

Betty cocked her head and looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

He leaned closer to her, looking down into her eyes. His gaze was hard.

"Elizabeth Crawford, I’ll be damned if you’re going to die. You’re bait, fine. You set yourself up on live television, and there’s nothing I can do about that now. But I will make every minute of being bait as miserable as I can for you. I will be on you every minute of every day until this breaks. You won’t be able to piss without me knowing how many pieces of toilet paper you use. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll make you miserable enough that you will never, ever, even dream of doing something this stupid again."

Bill took Betty’s hand and pulled her towards his police cruiser.

"Starting now," he said, opening the front passenger side door for her. "You’re going to wait here until I’m done in the house."

Betty got into the car, not saying a word as Bill slammed the boor shut. She watched Bill walk into the house. He muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair and pulling it ever so slightly. He was right, she hadn’t thought. She’d just acted. But, if she could help catch the murderer this way then Betty was determined to do so. Then, maybe the nagging idea that her actions had killed Melody would leave her alone.

Betty sank back into the seat and closed her eyes. Melody.

CHAPTER 28

Bill was as good as his word. The first thing he did was take Betty into the station and get her outfitted with a tracker chip for her jacket and a wire with an ear bug.

"Just in case," he told her wryly. "I’ve given up trying to predict how much trouble you’ll get in."

He could talk directly with her any time he wanted, and he would hear everything that she said or that was said to her. All the high tech equipment made Betty feel like an undercover spy. As Bill adjusted her wire, Betty admitted aloud that she had yet to see the drawbacks to being bait. Bill paused before brushing her hair behind her ear. This close, Betty could see that his hair had three different shades of brown in it. He had a small scar in the corner of his mouth. Bill cleared his throat and stepped back. It wasn’t until he left that Betty realized how much warmth he’d been letting out. She fought the impulse to rub her arms for warmth.

"Well, we’ll just have to work on that, won’t we?" Suddenly, he grinned. "You know, I’ll be able to hear everything you say, but you’ll only be able to hear what I want you to. I’m sure I can come up with some fascinating ways to pass the time."

Betty wasn’t sure that she liked the mischievous look Bill got in his eye just then. It reminded her of a fourth grade boy planning to put a frog in a girl’s desk..

It wasn’t until they were in the car ride home that Bill started humming. And he wasn’t humming just any song. He wasn’t humming a rock song or a pop song that he’d heard on the radio. He wasn’t humming a musical. He wasn’t even humming absent mindedly. No. He looked at her side long, gave the most evil smile she’d ever seen on his face, and started humming "The Song that Never Ends."

Oh no. He wouldn’t. Not really.

Right?

Bill raised an eyebrow at the expression of horror on her face. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Betty choked out.

He smiled and turned back to the road. "Good," he said. And then he switched songs. "I Am Henry the Eighth I Am."

Second verse, same as the first.

Betty had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Then, as though sent by divine messenger, Betty received her own sudden stroke of inspiration. It was genius, really. If Bill wanted to play at "most annoying," she could at least make herself a contender.

"Hey Bill," she said. "Is it okay if we pick up Clarise on the way to my house? I mean, if I’m right then she might be in danger as well. She did go with me to Melody’s after all." Actually, now that she thought of it having Clarise under police surveillance wasn’t just part of her diabolical plan. She really should be kept safe, especially if Betty was a target. Genuine worry tinged her words. "She is connected to the theater, and someone could always try and use her to get to me. I’d feel better if she stayed with me overnight, since you’ll be watching my place."

It turned out that Bill didn’t need much convincing. "I’d feel better if she was under wraps as well," he said. "We don’t have enough cars to have two stake outs, but if you think she’d be okay with staying over at your house it’s a good idea."

Betty grinned. "Oh," she said, "she’ll be fine. We’ll make a regular girl’s night of it."

Bill turned his head and raised an eyebrow at her. "Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?"

Bettty was too busy plotting to answer.

When Clarise opened the door to see the police chief, her face drained of all its color. Belatedly, Betty realized that having Bill be the one to ring the bell might not have been the best idea. She rushed to step into Clarise’s sight.

"Don’t worry," she said, holding up her hands as praying that Clarise wouldn’t panic. She kept her voice silly, in the hopes that Clarise wouldn’t pick up on the undertone of worry in her expression. "Nothing’s happened. We’re just picking you up. You and I are having a sleepover!"

"Oh really?" Clarise said as her color returned. "Do I have a choice?"

"Nope!" Betty said brightly. "Not even a little bit. See, Bill here is going to be watching me all night, and I thought it might be good if you were some place safe too." She winked conspiratorially. "And, after all, it’s been a very stressful week. I’m thinking that you and I could use a real, girly sleepover." She turned a sadistic grin on Bill, whose wide eyed expression seemed to indicate that he had just realized what she was planning. "I’m thinking bad pop music, chocolate, and shopping. Lots of shopping." She looked back at Clarise. "You in?"

"Of course I’m in!" she said. "I’ll bring Oreos and Mulan."

"Sounds great. Why don’t you pack your stuff, and we’ll wait here?"

While Clarise ran around gathering what she wanted to bring, Betty leaned on the doorjamb. She smiled sweetly at him. "Aren’t you looking forward to being my shadow tonight?"

Bill mirrored her posture on the other side of the door and leaned forward a little. His eyes were dancing. "You’re one sadistic girl Betty, I’ll give you that. Will there be Truth or Dare?"

She laughed. "Oh no," she said. "You won’t be hearing anything juicy tonight Bill. Clarise and I are both going to regress to preteens."

"Well," he said, "just remember, I’ll hear everything you say."

"I plan on it," she shot back.

He hummed a bar of the Barney theme song, and she grinned.

Let the games begin, she thought. She doubted Bill would be her shadow by morning.

Clarise showed up with her flowered backpack full of everything she needed for the overnight.

"I brought my copy of The Little Mermaid," Clarise told Betty.

"Oh good," Betty replied. "I haven’t seen it in forever. I wonder if I still know all the words to the songs?"

Bill grimaced. He’d heard her try to sing before.

Back at the house, Betty briefly explained to her parents that Bill would be staying there that night, patrolling the neighborhood and listening to a wire on her. Her parents weren’t exactly thrilled with her actions at the Biel residence, and made sure she knew it. Bill backed up their admonishments whole heartedly. Only Clarise came to her defense.