Mitch touched her arm. “What are you talking about?”
Tears squeezed between her fingers that still covered her eyes. “I should have solved the riddle.”
Mitch’s chair scraped on the floor as he pushed back from the table. He reached for a paper towel at the sink and wedged it into her hand. “Here.”
She wiped at her eyes and blew her nose. “Thanks.”
Mitch sank back down in his chair and cleared his throat. “What’s this about a riddle?”
She twisted the paper towel between her fingers. “Harley said nobody would admit they were going to commit a crime, but I thought Fala really meant it.”
Mitch and Myra exchanged glances. “Fala?” he said.
The paper towel was now reduced to shreds in her hand. “Mary was just the first. The riddle said there would be four murders. And I don’t know who they are.” She jumped up and stared down at Mitch. “You’ve got to stop Fala!”
Mitch rose to stand beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re not making any sense, C.J.. Who is Fala, and what does that have to do with Mary’s murder?”
C.J. slumped against him, and he eased her back into her chair before sitting beside her. She took a deep breath, straightened in her seat and thought back to the events of the morning before. “It all began yesterday…”
Concentrating on the first e-mail and everything that happened afterward, she related each message and the call from Fala. When she’d finished, she looked to Mitch, then Myra. “In the last message Fala said the first move had been made. Mary must have already been dead by the time I received that e-mail.”
As C.J. finished speaking, Myra made another notation in her notebook. “We’ll need copies of those messages.”
C.J. nodded. “I deleted the first one, but I don’t think I’ve emptied the trash yet. Maybe I can retrieve it.”
Mitch stood up. “Good. Why don’t we go over to your house and do that right now?” He glanced at Myra. “I’ll go with C.J. if you’ll finish up here.”
Myra scribbled one last word in the notebook and closed it. “Sure. No problem.”
“Detectives, could I see you for a moment?” They all turned to stare in the direction of the deep voice. A young man, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with latex gloves on, stood in the doorway. Mitch and Myra stepped over to him.
Mitch’s broad shoulders blocked C.J.’s view of the man. “Did you find something, Jeff?”
“Yes, sir. We found a blond hair in the victim’s hand.”
Mitch and Myra seemed unaware that C.J. now stood directly behind them.
Myra leaned toward Mitch. “Interesting. Maybe the killer left a calling card.”
“Don’t know about that,” the man said. “That’ll be for you guys to decide. Just wanted you to know.”
“Thanks,” Mitch said. C.J. started to step back, but Mitch turned before she could and plowed into her. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were right behind me. Ready to go get those e-mails?”
Just then a howl rose from the back porch. Tears welled in C.J.’s eyes again. “Otto. What’s going to happen to him?”
Mitch shook his head. “I don’t know. We’ll send for the Humane Society. They’ll take care of him until they can find him a home.”
C.J. turned toward the back door. “I want to go out through the backyard so I can say goodbye to him.”
She paused before stepping outside and glanced in the direction of the bedroom. Biting her lip, she said a silent farewell to her friend. She wished she could tell Mary how sorry she was for not solving the riddle, but that was impossible. The only thing she could do now was try to stop Fala before three more people died.
FOUR
As Mitch waited for C.J. to release Otto, he shivered in the cold morning air, but it was more than just the temperature that chilled him today. A cold-blooded murderer had struck in a vicious way, killing a beloved friend and terrifying the woman he loved. If C.J. were right, there might be additional victims. In his years on the force, he hadn’t seen anything to compare with Mary’s bedroom. Overkill. That was the only word to describe it.
The crime scene puzzled him. Surely Otto had barked when the killer entered the house, but Mary’s body lay in bed as if she hadn’t been alerted. And how did the killer get into a locked house with no apparent forced entry? Had they overlooked something in their initial sweep through the rooms? He’d go back after he printed a copy of the e-mails and take another look around. By the time he completed this investigation, he’d probably be familiar with every nook and cranny of Mary’s house.
C.J. rose from petting Otto and touched Mitch’s arm. “I’m ready now.”
Police cars, their blue lights flashing in the early-morning gloom, lined the street in front of the house. Several grim-faced officers silently roped off the house with crime scene tape. A cluster of neighbors stood nearby, watching the proceedings.
“Mitch. C.J.” The voice came from the direction of the neighbors gathered near the edge of C.J.’s front yard. Adam Connor emerged from the crowd and ran toward the fence. Disbelief lined his face. “One of the ladies from across the street told me Mary is dead. Is that true?”
Mitch nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
Adam’s fingers grasped the top of the fence, and he shifted his gaze from one to the other, his mouth open. “I-I can’t believe this.” He glanced back at the officers who’d just completed roping off the house. “Mitch, that’s crime scene tape. What’s going on here?”
“Mary was murdered.”
Adam gasped, his hands tightening on the fence. “Murdered? Not Mary.” His eyes grew wide. “When?”
“Apparently last night.” The scene in the bedroom flashed into Mitch’s mind, and he swallowed. “C.J. found the body.”
Adam turned to stare at her. “Oh, C.J., how awful. Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I think so. I just can’t get that sight out of my mind.”
Adam leaned against the fence. “I was on my way to the gym when I saw the activity out here, but that can wait. You want me to come in and stay with you a while?”
“I think that’s a good idea, Adam,” Mitch said. “She’s still pretty shaken up and doesn’t need to be alone.”
“I’ll do anything I can to help. Maybe we need to call Gwen to come over, too.”
Mitch nodded. “We’ll go in through the back and let you in the front door.”
Adam raked his hand through his hair. “Mary murdered. I can’t believe it. I just talked to her yesterday.”
“Me, too.” The vision of Mary and Otto walking up and down the street popped into Mitch’s head. No longer would the two patrol the neighborhood on their self-appointed rounds to keep a watch for evil. Instead it had entered her house when she’d least expected it and left a grisly murder in its wake. Mary’s crime-fighting days might be over, but his weren’t. Mitch didn’t intend for this to become a cold case. He wouldn’t rest until Mary’s killer was brought to justice.
C.J. and Mitch stepped onto the back porch, and she