Steve Demaree - Dekker 09 - Murder on a Blind Date (8 page)

Lou and I
were pelted with falling snow as we walked out of the church. On the way to the
parking lot I had an epiphany.

"Lou,
if what they say is true, we aren't going to want to go anywhere else for a
while. Do you have any interest in going out to eat and stocking up for the
rest of today and tomorrow?"

I
explained to him what I meant and he was game. We headed to Antonio's. Both of
us ordered a large
Stromboli
with French fries and gravy to
eat there, and a medium pizza and a sandwich of
 
prosciutto ham
and
fontina cheese to go. My pizza had pepperoni, sausage, green peppers, black and
green olives, red onions, and extra cheese on it. Lou chose bacon, green peppers,
and Roma tomatoes on his. I planned to eat half of the pizza each of the next
two nights, and the other sandwich for lunch on Monday. I would worry about
Tuesday when Tuesday arrived.

After we left Antonio's, I dropped Lou at his
place, drove home on streets with few tracks on them, and gave the van a
running start so that I could make it into my driveway on my first try. My
guess was that we had four inches of snow so far, but I refrained from going
into the house and finding a ruler to see how close my guess was. I also
resisted a mild urge to build a snowman or build a snow fort and crawl inside.
I didn't do those things as a boy, and I had no desire to live the childhood I
never had. At least not that part of it.

Once I had deposited my rations into the
refrigerator I headed for my recliner and reached for the Mary Higgins Clark
book I had left on the end table next to it. Before the night was over I
planned to read the rest of the book and solve the crime. After all, I was Cy
Dekker, crime fighter extraordinaire.
 

+++

In a weak
moment I felt I needed to compare Bambi Fontaine to a couple of other women who
had contacted the agency about a date, so Sunday night I filled out a second
application. This time I listed things that were the truth, except for my name
and former profession. It's easier not to get caught as long as most of what
you say is the truth. I wondered with whom the agency would fix up the real Cy
Dekker. Well, almost the real Cy. I tucked another one hundred dollar bill
inside the application, folded it, and opened the door and put it over the
mailbox.

+++

I woke up
Monday morning in familiar surroundings, and freezing. I picked myself up from
the floor, climbed back up onto my bed, and covered up. I looked at my watch
and contemplated a suitable time for a man to get out of bed, a man who doesn't
have to go to work and doesn't have a wife to tell him to get out of bed. A few
minutes later I sniffed but couldn't smell the bacon frying, then remembered
who was the only person there to fry bacon.

It was still
a little chilly, so I got up, put on my robe, and tied it. I remembered what it
looked like outside the day before, just before dark, so I looked out my
bedroom window to see what changes had unfolded. All the snow on the ground made
me sad that I wasn't a student who would be missing school that day, and then I
remembered I didn't have to go anywhere anyway. The day was mine. No one was
going to ruin it. At least I hoped not.

I fixed myself
a breakfast of bacon, eggs, hash browns, toast, butter, and jelly, and sat down
to enjoy my creation. No one was there with me. Still I refrained from playing
in my food or licking the egg yolk and jelly from my plate when I finished.

I had to
spend the day with myself, so I headed to the bathroom to shower and shave, so
I wouldn't look or smell too bad. I got dressed, and added a sweater to my
ensemble. It was a solid red one that Jennifer bought me for Christmas. I
wasn't sure how I was going to spend my day, but ten minutes later someone made
it easier on me. No, no one had left any bodies on my doorstep, nor any clues
on how to solve the murders I already knew about. But someone did knock on my
door. I wondered who would come calling on such a day. I hadn't heard a vehicle
pull up. I satisfied my curiosity, and opened my front door to find, Bob, my
mailman, standing there.

"I
have a delivery for you, Lieutenant. Something you might want to help you spend
the day."

I had
forgotten that I had ordered a couple of movies.

"Well,
thank you, Bob. I'm sorry you have to come out in this weather."

"You
know what they say, through rain and snow and sleet and hail. Besides, tomorrow
is my day off. I don't think all this stuff will melt before then,  so making
tracks to your house will be someone else's problem tomorrow. Not that you're a
problem. Oh, and on the way over here, I saw Mark. He said he will be by this
afternoon to shovel your snow, but if you need to go anywhere before then to
give him a call."

"Thanks,
Bob. Would you like to come in for some hot chocolate before you go? I can have
it ready for you in a couple of minutes."

Bob realized
how cold he was and stepped in. But before he did he picked up the envelope I
had put over the mailbox the night before.

"Hey,
Lieutenant. Who's this Al Monson guy?"

"Al
Monson?"

"Yeah,
it says on this envelope. Al Monson."

"Oh,
that Al Monson. He's a friend of mine."

"I
thought I knew everyone who lives in Hilldale. Being a mail carrier and all,
you know. And he lives over on Yardley. My mother lives on Yardley. I'll have
to ask her if she knows him."

"Well,
Al's a low profile kind of guy. Doesn't mix much."

"Wonder
why he didn't mail it from his place. I know the guy who delivers over there.
He would have picked it up."

"Al
was over here a few minutes ago, said he forgot to mail it from his place. Wanted
to know if I'd mail it for him."

"That's
odd."

"Oh,
I've mailed things for people before."

"That's
not what I was talking about. It's not snowing as hard now. I wouldn't have
thought it wouldn't have covered up someone's tracks yet if he was just here a
few minutes ago."

"Could
have been over an hour. You know how time flies. Bob, why didn't you go to work
for the department? You would have made a good detective."

"So
far no one's shot at me on this job. Besides, I think I understand now. I think
I know who Al Monson is. But that's okay. You're not married. No one's going to
care if you step out every now and then. And I won't say what Just For You
sounds like. You know what they say. A mailman knows someone better than the
guy's neighbors know him."

It was
too late to rescind my invitation of hot chocolate.

"It's
not what you think, Bob. It has to do with a case I'm working on."

"I
thought you retired."

"You
know how it is. When you're good someone will always come knocking at your
door. So, do you have any idea how much snow we've had?"

"I
was talking to Mrs. Edmonds over on Mockingbird and she said her digital gauge
said we've had 11.7 inches so far."

I
refrained from saying that would cover up a lot of tracks and hoped Bob didn't
bring up the subject again. He didn't. He just put my application in his bag
and smiled at me.

I tried
to forget about Bob's smile, and wondered if it was too late to sign up for
Meals on Wheels beginning on Tuesday.

Bob realized
that his detective work had cost him a few minutes, so he drank the hot
chocolate as soon as he could do so without scalding his throat, then headed on
his way. I stood in the door and watched him. He left tracks. I made a note to
check back in an hour to see if I could still see those tracks.

I hoped
he didn't have a lot of mail to deliver, because the deep snow would slow him
down. Most of the houses in Hilldale are old enough that the mailboxes are on
the houses, not the street. A few people had shoveled their walks, but no one
had shoveled their yards. Instead of taking the shortest route between two
points Bob would head back to the sidewalk between deliveries.

I had
forgotten what two movies I had ordered, so when Bob left I opened the package.
I was about to enjoy a Michael J. Fox double feature of
Back to the Future
and
The Secret of My Success.

+++

I sat
down to watch the first movie. Just after Marty McFly asked for a Tab, the house
phone rang. I got up to answer it. It was Lou. He wanted to make sure I hadn't
slid off the road into a snowdrift. I thanked him for his promptness, chatted a
minute, and told him what I was doing. Lou had started a Thomas Kinkade jigsaw
puzzle after he finished reading his book and he was far from finished with it.
After all, it had two thousand pieces. We  both commented on how thankful we
were that we had food to eat, and I reminded Lou as to whose idea it was to
stock up for the day. He promised to leave me his firstborn in his will and I
thanked him profusely. We took a couple more minutes to solve the problems of
the world, then we hung up. I headed back to my movie, and Lou to his puzzle of
lights.

I was
most of the way through the movie when I heard a noise outside. Either Mark had
made good on his promise or the shovel slayer had shown up to bury the people
on my street. I refrained from looking out the window, finished the first movie,
and headed to the kitchen to fix lunch. I heard occasional noises of a shovel
making contact with concrete. I made a note to give Mark a little extra since
God had given us a lot of extra snow. It had been a while since we had had this
much snow.

I decided
to eat the sandwich warm, so I grabbed it from the refrigerator, popped it in
the oven for a few minutes, then headed to the living room to eat it. I didn't
need a break. I was ready for the second movie, which incidentally is one of my
favorite movies.

I was
enjoying the elusive Carlton Whitfield when I heard a knock at the door. Either
Mark had finished shoveling or Bob was bringing me a couple of more movies. I paused
the movie and headed to the door. I opened it and was surprised at what I saw.
Mark had a friend with him. At least I assumed that the bundled up guy carrying
the snow shovel was Mark.

"Is
that you Mark?"

"Sure
is, Lieutenant Dekker. And this is my friend Andrea."

"Wow,
Mark! I hope you didn't make her do all the work."

"He
didn't," she chimed in in a melodious voice.

I would
have commented on how attractive Andrea was, but if I told the truth all I
would have been able to say was that she had cute eyes. Everything else was
covered.  

I paid
Mark and slipped him an extra twenty.

"It's
not that much."

"Well,
there was a lot of snow, and who knows, maybe you'll want to take Andrea out
somewhere."

"Thanks,
Lieutenant, but we're just going over to her house and text each other."

I was
halfway through with my surprised look before I realized that Mark was pulling
my leg. He was going to take her to Antonio's for pizza.

Mark and
Andrea left, but I couldn't help thinking that if this girl was willing to come
with Mark and stand outside in the cold for an hour, he should do whatever it
took to keep her. Then I wondered if I was going to have to start shoveling my
own snow, or break in some eight-year-old. I know what love does to people.

+++

Not
everyone knows this, but I'm a romantic. So I enjoyed
The Secret of My
Success
as much this time as I did the first ten times I had seen it, all
on VHS. I made a note to check and see if Jennifer had seen it. I didn't care if
Bambi was familiar with the movie, but I doubted it, since Ed Wood didn't
direct it.

I awoke
Tuesday morning with thoughts of sending out a raven to see if the snow had
melted, and then I remembered the last time I sent my raven out a cat almost
got it. That raven came back nevermore.  When I realized I had no raven, I
opened the door and was blinded by the white stuff covering my yard. Then I
thought of tying a note to my carrier pigeon, a note that said, "If you
are reading this, let me know who you are by tying it to the leg of my carrier
pigeon and sending it back." Then I remembered my pigeon didn't make it
back the last time I sent it out. It was time to head to the kitchen and see
what rations I had other than peanut butter.

If a man
has a box of pancake mix, the other ingredients listed on the box that are
necessary to turn that mix into pancakes, and a modicum of intelligence, he can
come up with breakfast. I fried some bacon and added blueberries to the pancake
batter and made it even better. I managed to finish eating and left only two
drops of syrup on the table. I wiped them up and put the dishes in the
dishwasher. If someone visited me, he or she wouldn't know that I had eaten at
home that morning. Not all bachelors are slobs. Well, not all of the time.

+++

I walked
away from the dishwasher and spent thirty-five seconds contemplating the rest
of my day. The phone rang and interrupted my thoughts. I hurried to see who was
calling. It was Sam. I felt like Nero Wolfe, never going anywhere, but
receiving lots of phone calls. But my resemblance to the classic mystery
detective ended there. I didn't have a greenhouse on the roof full of orchids,
nor did I have a passion for beer. I didn't have an elevator, either.

"So,
Cy, do you want to know what I've learned so far, or are you too busy making
wedding plans?"

"Go
ahead, Sam. This shouldn't take long."

"I'll
have you know that I've done a lot of digging and located almost one hundred of
the people who have used that dating service. I'm sorry to say that I've found
three more people who have been murdered, and in the same way as the others.
Two of them were women, the other one a man. And there are a few people I
haven't located yet. I have names of people who have used the agency, names of the
people they have dated through the agency, and even what color card each person
sent back. If I send all of this to you in an attachment, would you be able to
open it?"

"I'm
not sure. Why don't you deliver it along with something for lunch and
supper?"

Sam
informed me that he had more work to do, but he could provide me with the phone
numbers of restaurants that deliver.

"And,
Cy, I can tell you a little about the house you asked about in
Tennessee
, the one Lou escaped from."

"Let
her rip."

"Well,
it's owned by an older couple named
Wyckoff
. We were able to run them down in
Germany
."

"Why
did you do that, Sam? Now we'll never get any information out of them."

"Cy,
did anyone ever tell you that you're not funny. Anyway, as I was about to say
before I was so rudely interrupted, the Wyckoffs live in
Lexington
and have been traveling through
Europe
for the last four weeks, visiting
one castle after another. Seems like they have a good alibi for the time of the
kidnapping and murder. Besides that, they have no family, and they didn't leave
a key to the
Tennessee
house with anyone, although there
is a key at their house in
Lexington
.
Yet, according to the
Tennessee
police, whoever got in that house
in
Tennessee
didn't break in. We sent someone
by to check out their
Lexington
house and no one has broken in
there, either."

"It
seems like a lot of people connected with this case live in
Lexington
."

"Yeah,
and some of them are dying in
Lexington
,
too. And I checked to see if there's any connection between the Comstocks, who
own the dating service, and the Wyckoffs. They live only a couple of blocks
from each other, but I haven't found anything yet that tells me they know each
other. Well, that's all I have for now. I'll send all of this to you and you
can see what you can make out of it."

I hung
up, waited five minutes, then headed to the computer. I found Sam's e-mail,
opened the attachment, and printed the information. I planned to look it over
and then call Lou.

I spent
fifteen minutes looking over what Sam had sent me and had come to one
conclusion. Someone in this picture was a beast. Up to this point we had
assumed that it was one of the women who went out on a date with the two
missing men, whom we later found had been murdered. But did this tie in with
Lou's kidnapping? The people were murdered in the same way. If so, was one of
these women capable of hoisting Lou and dumping him in her trunk along with the
dead man and woman Lou woke up to find beside him in that house? Did some woman
dump Lou and his newfound dead friends in a one-of-a-kind house in the Smokies,
then drive back to
Kentucky
? But then two of the latest
victims were women? Or were they the latest victims? Or did they die first?
Could it be that we didn't know about them as soon as the others?

Then
another thought penetrated my mind, or escaped from it. Could the murderer be
someone who was jealous because someone they knew used this agency? If so, why
would they go about murdering all these other people? Was it strictly to cast
suspicion in some other direction? Was that the reason Lou was kidnapped? Or
could it be someone who has something against the couple who own the agency? Maybe
because they are making a lot of money? I still couldn't figure out how Lou's
kidnapping fit in with the dating service murders. Lou had never used that
dating service. Had he?

I
realized the case had too many suspects and it was time to call in the cavalry,
so I picked up my phone and dialed.

"Hello,
my good friend."

"Sorry,
Cy. I'm not going to take your place on the next date."

"It's
nothing like that, Lou. But if you do change your mind, I'll consider it."

"Okay,
what does your frozen mind need from me?"

"How
about your presence?"

"I'm
not delivering food to you."

"I
mean I need another inquiring mind to help me solve this case."

"I'll
see if I think of someone, but my mind hasn't been inquiring."

"Remember
who came to Gatlinburg to pick you up?"

"And
remember who paid back that debt by making sure you lived through that night at
The Cheesecake Factory?"

"I
saw you only one time that whole night."

"See
how good I was at remaining undercover? That was me behind the potted plant."

"I
don't think there was a potted plant."

"Okay,
I was the guy cleaning the case that housed the cheesecake after you slobbered
all over the glass."

"So,
are you coming over here, or not?"

"Or
not."

"You're
not going to help me?"

"I
didn't say that. I've been solving your cases for you for years while you
receive all the glory. So, do you have anything new?"

"Yeah.
Sam found some more people who didn't make it through their dates alive, and
some other information about the people who contacted the agency for a date,
and he e-mailed it to me in an attachment."

"Fine.
E-mail me what he sent you, and if you aren't capable of doing that, call Sam and
tell him to send it to me, too. Or you can bring your copy over here and stop
by and pick up lunch on the way over."

I told
Lou I would e-mail it to him and that I would see him in the spring, but to let
me know if he is kidnapped again.

"Oh,
and Cy, I have another message. This one is 'both live in the same neighborhood.'"

"Both
live in the same neighborhood what? Is someone murdering people because of
where they live, rather than something to do with that dating service?"

"I
don't think so, Cy. Remember, the one guy lived in Morehead."

"But
both of whom live in the same neighborhood? I don't think any two of our
suspects or victims live in the same neighborhood. What kind of clue is
this?"

"Hey,
I don't make up the clues. I just share them."

I hung up,
more confused than I was before I talked to Lou, but that is usually the case.