“Who was it?” Tess asked.
“Nobody. Probably a wrong number.”
“Funny, they can’t dial the number they want, but they can remember our number long enough to call it a dozen times by mistake.”
Erin poured herself a mug of freshly brewed coffee and joined her aunt at the kitchen table. “Maybe it’s a telemarketer. These days a computer dials the number and connects to a salesperson only after you answer. It takes a bit for the connection to go through.”
“Uh-huh.” Tess pushed her bifocals down her nose and stared intently at her niece. “And I suppose you’re wearing your worry face because you’re afraid you might be missin’ the sale of a lifetime?”
Erin chuckled and sipped her coffee.
“I might be getting a little deaf, lass, but I’m not blind. Someone’s been calling this house at odd hours for the past four days and I never see you talking to anyone. What’s going on?”
Erin shrugged. “Honestly, Tess, I haven’t a clue. I answer. They don’t. End of story.”
“Don’t tell me ‘end of story.’ Did you write down the number from your caller ID?”
“There isn’t one. It just reads unknown name, unknown number.”
“You need to find out who it is.”
She patted the older woman’s hand. “Don’t get in a dither. It’s just some teenagers playing a prank. They’ll get tired and move on to someone else.” She carried her empty mug to the sink.
“Erin O’Malley, you sit back down here and listen to me.”
Erin, surprised at her aunt’s tone of voice, did as she was told.
“We’re not livin’ in the world I grew up in.” Tess waggled a finger at her. “Used to be you left your doors unlocked. You knew your neighbors and everybody watched out for everybody else. Today it’s a world of strangers. Nobody even takes the time to know the person livin’ right next door. There are more bad guys and less of a way to know who the bad guys are until it’s too late.”
The animation and emotion in her aunt’s face surprised Erin. “I never knew you had such strong feelings about this.”
“Why shouldn’t I? Age blesses one with wisdom, lass. We are two single women living alone with a handicapped child to protect. You need to be more concerned when something strange happens. How can you protect yourself, or us, if you don’t keep your eyes open to what’s going on around you? And what’s going on around you right now isn’t right. You need to fix it.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Erin asked, suddenly suspicious of her aunt’s true motives. “Call a cop? Or did you have a particular detective in mind?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tess ducked her head.
Erin almost laughed out loud at the expression on her aunt’s face when she realized her ploy hadn’t worked.
“Shame on you for trying to scare me,” Erin said.
“I’m speakin’ the truth,” Tess insisted. “If you used that brain of yours, you’d be smart enough to be scared.” Tess carried her own empty mug to the sink. “I don’t see how it could hurt to ask the detective’s advice. He’s expecting you to call him anyway. So do it.” She glanced over her shoulder. “And just so you know, I meant every word I said.”
“You’re right. I need to report the calls,” Erin said. “I would have called the police before now, but I really thought it was Billy Sanders. Remember last year when he harassed everybody in the neighborhood for days with heavy breathing and giggles?”
Tess nodded as she started washing her cup. “That boy needed a good swift kick in his…”
“Anyway,” Erin said. “I thought he was doing it again, so I went over to see his dad this morning.”
“Really? How’d that go?”
“It’s not Billy. His dad tells me the boy has straightened out. Joined a church youth group. Matter of fact, he was away this past weekend at a Christian teen camp.”
“Good for him,” Tess said. “So what are you going to do about the calls?”
Erin crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her aunt’s back, resting her cheek against the back of her head. “I am going to call that ‘fine, young detective’ you keep pushing down my throat. But you better know, old woman, that I’m on to you and your sneaky ways. I already made up my mind to call the detective. Calls or no calls. I want Jack to ride the bus with the boys.”
Tess squealed, turned around and pulled Erin to her despite the soap suds on her hands. “I knew you’d come to your senses. It just takes time for reasonable thoughts to get through your thick, Irish skull.”
“I love you, too, Tess.”
Tony clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. Ever since he got the call about a corpse discarded in the tall grass by the Tomoka River, he had been dreading this moment. He nodded to Winters and Spence, who had just pulled up. Telltale yellow tape roped off the crime scene. The forensics team was already at work, taking pictures of the body and carefully gathering evidence.
“Hey, Keith.” Tony acknowledged the motorcycle cop who had been first on the scene. “What do we have?” Spence and Winters drew up behind him.
“I was heading north on Airport Road when these two kids ran out of the woods, screaming to high heaven and white as sheets. This park has a reputation as a good fishing spot. Seems they got more than they expected. They went into the brush close to the river and, literally, fell over the corpse.” Keith nodded toward the boys. “I got them calmed down. They’re waiting over there for their parents to pick them up.”
Two boys, about eleven or twelve, stole glances in their direction. The shuffling of their feet and the slight green tinge to their skin attested to the fact they wanted to be as far away from the park as possible.
Winters said, “We’ve got this,” and he and Spence headed toward the boys.
Tony ducked under the yellow tape and gingerly approached the medical examiner.
“Hi, Sally.” It never ceased to surprise him how a sweet, grandmotherly looking woman would choose to spend her days surrounded by corpses. Go figure.
“Tony.”
“What can you tell me?” He squatted beside her.
“Not much yet. Looks like she was killed elsewhere and dumped here. I’ll have more specifics for you after I get the body back to the morgue. She fought back. Should get some good DNA samples from under her nails.”
Tony glanced at the corpse and knew two things instantly. The body’s injuries matched the visible injuries of the other two corpses. And Cynthia Mayors, the woman who had disappeared from the hospital after her Friday shift, was no longer missing.
Several hours later Tony trudged into the office, tired, hungry and with only one thing on his mind: finishing his report and going home.
“Hey, Tony,” the desk clerk yelled. “A woman called a couple of hours ago. Left her name and number. Said something about meeting you at the Easter picnic and wanted to talk to you about a problem she’s having.”
As the clerk’s voice rang through the room, Tony grimaced. He glanced at his fellow officers. Here we go. Round three for pranks and jokes. But right now he didn’t care. He had hoped she’d call. He didn’t like to think she would let her kid down. He took the message from the clerk and headed back to his desk. At least he’d be able to make one little