The Lucy Chronicles

PROLOGUE

Friday May 27th, 2011

She stumbled in the darkness, losing her balance with one missed step. He grabbed her arm, steadying her just before her knees hit the ground. Tree branches clawed at her bare arms as they continued to trek through the silent forest. She held tightly onto her companion’s arm as he was carrying the flashlight. This really isn’t my idea of romance.

Everything was pitch black except for the dim light that lit the ground a few feet in front of them. It was like trying to get through a woodland obstacle course, one littered with mysterious animals lurking about in the dark and excessive amounts of mud determined to destroy her brand new Toms. No, this was not what I expected at all.

He told her he wanted to watch the sunrise. Just be with her, one last time. That he knew the perfect spot to wait for the sun before dawn broke. She had hesitated when he texted earlier in the day. She didn’t really want to go. She had studying to do. But she had felt too bad for what she had done. She owed him, owed him this at the very least. So, reluctantly she agreed to meet him.

As another branch whipped at her pant leg, she squeezed his arm tighter. It was a bit chilly now, and she found herself wishing she had remembered her jacket and gloves. She considered asking to wear his, but the thought left her mind when they finally came to a clearing. Moonlight spilled down generously, revealing a gorgeous view.

He was right. This is truly beautiful. Almost majestic at this hour. He motioned towards a log for them to sit on. She tried to brush some moss off, but decided there really wasn’t any point.

He remained standing, staring upward. She followed his gaze to find that the sky was speckled with dozens of stars. This is incredible.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see he had moved from where he’d been standing. Still mesmerized by the stars, she began to think he was actually making a really nice gesture. Maybe I had him all wrong. Maybe he was actually trying like I’d asked him to. Maybe he…

Soft clinking metal followed by a slow swoosh sound interrupted her thoughts. What was that?

Before she could even react, she felt it around her neck. It was tightening more and more. She couldn’t breathe. She realized what was happening and grabbed backwards at his hands and arms….clawing so desperately that her nails began to pop off one by one. She couldn’t breathe.

She began gasping for air, but nothing would give. The moonlight started fading. She could feel her arms weaken with every attempt to claw at him. Then everything went black.

CHAPTER ONE

Sunday, May 29th 2011

7:05 a.m.

Plenty of room at the Hotel California…

The song echoed down the hallway towards the red door. The flickering lightbulb above me was the only source of light I had. Carefully, I placed my hands on the wall to my right, feeling my way along as the bulb flicked in and out. I could make out bits and pieces of the strange and dark hallway I found myself in. There were no other doors, just a hallway of walls and the red door at the end. Where am I?

As I got closer things started to move in slow motion. It was a struggle to get one foot in front of the other, almost like I had to think about each step. Suddenly I felt a gentle exhaled breath in my ear. I turned quickly and took a step back. Through the flicker of the light, I could see there was nothing there. Confused, I looked down at my feet. In this moment I realized I was barefoot.

Where are my shoes? Loud banging on the other side of the red door swirled me back around.

Did I just hear someone laugh?

“Who’s there?” I attempted to speak, but no sound came out. Just my lips mouthed the words.

The banging grew louder, more aggressive and repetitious. I felt frozen in place. The door swung open abruptly and a bright light blinded my eyes. My arm shot up to shield me from its intensity.

….any time of year, you can find us here….

The song was deafening as it boomed from the opened red door. What’s that buzzing sound? It was competing with the song. I had to press my hands to my ears. What’s happening?

Bzzzz…bzzzzzz…bzzzzzz…Plenty of room at the Hotel California…

My eyes opened and after a few moments I realized I was in bed, slammed my hand down on the alarm clock. Blinking from the sunbeam shining through the window onto my face, I sighed.

Hammering could be heard outside across the street, mixed with loud talking and laughing. It was day four of construction on my neighbour’s house. And that song! Does anyone actually like it or have we all just heard it so many times it’s burned into our brains?

I grabbed my phone off the night stand and flipped over on my back. It was my first Sunday off in three weeks. I saw that I had twelve emails, thirteen texts and three missed phone calls waiting. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that sleeping pill at 2:00 a.m. I pulled the covers over my head, then pulled them back down and braced myself.

6:17 a.m. from Johnson:

URGENT. Call me Hart, we got something.

6:32 a.m. from Johnson:

CALL ME!

6:48 a.m. from Johnson:

Jesus, Hart. Where the hell are ya?

Johnson, as in Detective James Johnson, is my partner. Going on four years. He was intense and intrusive, but he did his job well. Very well. He was originally from Britain, but moved on his own to America when he was just nineteen. Twenty-three years, two promotions, a sweet wife and three beautiful children later and he became one of the most respected detectives in the homicide unit. I was lucky to be partnered with him. I pondered that a moment. Skipping the voicemails, I called him back instead.

“Where the bloody hell have you been, Hart?” I didn’t expect any less of a greeting from him.

“Sorry, what’s up?” I pulled myself off the mattress and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

“God dammit…we got a body. Female, approximately eighteen to twenty-one. Found at 6:00 a.m. in the woods off Valler Road. Looks like strangulation and stabbing. The examiner is at the scene right now, so we’ll know more shortly.” Shit. How could I miss that call? “I’m on my way.”

I tossed the phone on the bed and headed for the shower. Five minutes later, I was scrambling around my bedroom for clothes. I grabbed my phone again. New text:

7:14 a.m. from Johnson:

Hurry.

It’s texts like these that just push my buttons. I wiped the mirror clear of steam and pulled my wet brown hair back into a bun. I am damn good at my job. Starting as the youngest female in my squad, I worked five and a half years to move my career from beat cop on the streets to detective. It was difficult enough gaining respect from my peers. I worked with three partners in two other cities over the course of four years before being assigned here with Johnson. Rumor was that he requested me. I often found it flattering that he’d thought so highly of me, but sometimes, like when he sent me texts like this one, I’d start to think it was just a rumor.

I secured my gun belt around my waist and as I slipped on my shoes I had a flashback to my dream and shook my head. So weird. Grabbing my keys, badge and jacket I raced down the stairs and out the front door.

“Hola Miss Lucy!” Sylvia Flores from next door gave me a wave and a smile over the hedges that drew a line between our driveways.

“Hola Miss Sylvia,” I gave her a quick smile as I put my sunglasses on and unlocked my car to get in. I don’t exactly consider myself the friendly neighbour type, but we’ve had our chats, usually when I am coming or going from work. She usually makes some comment about how I

should water my flowers more or that I’ve been working too many hours. “You’re too busy! Work, work, work. You need a nice man, to take care of you! I never see you with a nice man.”

Occasionally, when she found it appropriate, she’d mind her business. She really is a sweet woman.

Finally on my way, I drove in silence. The radio often distracts me from focusing. I’m one of those people that need complete quiet to think. At least, when it comes to my job. On occasion, when I allow myself to have thoughts regarding my own life, I prefer to be distracted.

A red light blocked my path forward and I adjusted my rear view mirror slightly, catching a glimpse of myself. Female eighteen to twenty-one; strangulation and stabbing. Johnson’s voice echoed in my head. It was rare for this town. Not unlikely, but rare to be called about a murder of a young girl.

I hit the gas on the green light and took a right onto Valler Road. I already saw cop cars lined up, blocking off road access. I parked my 2008 VW Jetta behind the row of cop cars and started walking towards the taped off area: a small field leading into the woods. As I got closer, all I saw were uniforms. Then Johnson came into view. He glanced in my direction, looking simultaneously relieved and annoyed that I’d finally shown up.

“Finally. Alright, follow me,” he says as he led me towards the wooded area.

“Any more info on the girl?” I asked, trying to keep my balance, stepping over tree roots as we entered deeper into the woods.

“Examiner confirmed strangulation, presumably with the belt found around her neck, along with several stab wounds likely from a pocket knife found beside her. Both were bagged and sent for DNA. Not sure of time of death, but it looks like she’s been here a day or two. Full report will be available in a few days, once she’s taken back to the lab for a more thorough examine.

The examiner did say the stab wounds seemed superficial, not very deep.” He paused to push a tree branch out of my way. “So, likely the strangulation is what killed her. She put up a fight, noted by her broken fingernails. DNA was taken for evidence, of course.”

We hit a clearing and I saw her immediately. The victim was lying on her back beside a tree trunk. She was clothed, which is a good sign in this type of scene, but her torso was covered in blood.

“DNA, that’s good. What about tracks? Footprints?” I knelt down beside her. Her long, blonde hair was semi-damp from the morning dew and fell loosely around her head. If I’d only seen her face I could have assumed she was in a peaceful sleep. Aside from the discoloration of her skin, her face looked flawless. I glanced over her body. Over what was left of her nails. I could see they were long, pink toned acrylics with a jewel accent glued on top. Her clothes looked fairly new and she was wearing blue Toms on her feet. She was well taken care of. No doubt, her family is looking for her.

“Nothing we can say for sure at this point. The man who found her was walking back here with his dog. Their footprints run through here.” Johnson pointed to our left. “We also have the responding officers to his 911 call through here.” He pointed to shoe prints marked by the forensics team near the body. “The examiner, and now ours.” I glanced around the area. Thank god we have DNA.

“She appears to have walked here on her own. No notable drag marks,” I pointed out as I scanned the area again, twisting sideways. “The perp didn’t bother to cover her. She’s in plain view. Perhaps they wanted to make sure she would be found. Her eyes are closed. Could be a clue, maybe they knew her. They didn’t want her to look at them.”

“One other thing, Hart,” he paused, clearing his throat. “Her wallet was found in a purse just behind that rock over there.” He pointed out the area. “Her name was Jolene Lambert. Daughter of George Lambert, as in Defense Attorney George Lambert. She was reported missing Friday morning. She was sixteen, turning seventeen next month. No phone in the bag, but we can still pull records. Might take a few days.”

I stood up and gave a nod to Johnson. “Let’s get on some leads then. The man who found her, we got a full statement?” I asked, as we walked back towards the road.

“Yeah, he seems legit. Pretty shaken up. Erwin Smith. He’s sixty-seven, a retired electrician.

Just lives on the other side of the woods with his wife. His property backs into it. Has a limp from a car accident few years back. I can’t see him luring that girl back there, honestly. He says he and his wife didn’t hear anything.”

I started thinking about the terrain and the trouble I’d had walking through it. Doesn’t seem like the best area to walk a dog for someone with a limp. And if she had been here a few days, why is he just discovering her body this morning? Does he not usually walk his dog here? I made a mental note to read his statement thoroughly.

“Hmm, have the parents been notified?” I turned my head toward Johnson.

“Not yet, that’s where we’re headed now.” He kept looking straight ahead.

“Ok. And we’re confident there’s potential DNA on the belt, knife and fingernails?” I kept looking at him.

“We can only hope Hart,” he said flatly. His eyes still forward, he placed his hand on my back as if to reassure me in some way. As we walked closer to the uniforms, he pulled his hand away.

“We’ll take my car,” he said, this time turning his head toward me.

CHAPTER TWO

9:17 a.m.

Pulling up the long driveway to a three story brick mansion, I found myself leaning forward to get a better view through the windshield. The Lambert residence. It was impressive, to say the least. I sat back in my seat as the car came to a stop. Johnson placed his hand on my left leg.

“Let’s go,” he said softly and with that, exited the car. I quickly followed behind him. The local police were already there. Approaching the door, my heart started beating fast. It wasn’t the first time I’d had to deliver bad news to a victim’s family, but there was something about this girl. It felt different.

A white haired woman wearing all black answered the door. “Yes, may I help you?” Johnson cleared his throat, “Hi, I’m Detective Johnson, this is my partner Detective Hart.” He nodded toward me. “Could we please speak with Mr. and Mrs. Lambert?”

The woman excused herself and a few seconds later a tall man in his sixties approached the doorway. His face was weary, and his salt and pepper hair was disheveled like he’d been running his hands through it in the wrong direction. Johnson spoke again, “Hi I’m…”

“Yes, yes please come in. I’m George,” he interrupted, ushering us in. We shook hands as we walked into the grand entry way. A huge double staircase greeted us at the center of the room.

“We’ve been worried sick here. These cops, they can’t tell me shit about Jolene. Look, be straight with me,” he begged, staring right into Johnson’s eyes. “We just can’t take this anymore. It’s been three days. Her mother, my wife, she hasn’t slept. We just need to know where our baby girl is.”

“I understand.” Johnson, motioned toward a side parlor. “May we talk in here?” Mr. Lambert nodded and we soon found ourselves sitting across from him on a tacky, upholstered and likely antique couch. Oversized floral prints and gold accents were pouring out of every crevice of the room. After a second glance around the room I’d decided that Mrs. Lambert’s taste was certainly not from this decade. Or century for that matter.

“I don’t want Maureen involved in this conversation, if that is alright. She’s been through too much already, worrying.”

“I understand. Truthfully, the information we have may be best told to her by you.” Johnson shifted in his seat. I felt my cheeks grow warm. Mr. Lambert went white, like he knew what was coming next. He braced himself as Johnson lowered his tone, “I am so sorry to tell you this….Jolene…Jolene was found this morning off Valler Road. About two miles up, in the woods.” He paused as Mr. Lambert stood up.

“I don’t, I don’t understand. Why….how did this happen?” he walked over to a window, placing his hand over his mouth.

“She was strangled, sir.” A sudden shriek came from the doorway.

“Nooooooo! Nooooo! You lie, it can’t be!!” Mrs. Lambert was now crumpled on the floor, pounding the floor with her fists.

“Eliza! Eliza! Take Maureen back upstairs right now,” he yelled as he hurried over to his wife, lifting her to her feet. “Please, darling it will be alright. Go upstairs.” Eliza, the woman who had answered the door, ushered Mrs. Lambert out of the parlor. Mr. Lambert stood, watching them slowly walk up the grand staircase. His head lowered with every wail from his wife.

I finally broke my silence. “Mr. Lambert, is there anything you can remember about the last time you saw her, anything that stood out as odd?” My voice trailed off when he looked in my direction.

“I’ve already told the cops all of this.” His voice was deflated.

“Yes, I know. I’m sure as an experienced lawyer you can understand how important it is for us to ask these questions though.” I offered a slight smile.

“Of course, of course.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “This is a list I made of all of her friends. Their name…contact information. I always make sure JoJo… I’ve always made sure she updated the list, so she could always be reached. I just never thought…” He handed it to me. “We last saw her Thursday when she was going to bed. It was 11:00, maybe 11:15. She kissed me on the cheek.” His hand went to his right cheek, as if he could still feel her kiss. “Friday morning, she wasn’t in her room when Eliza went to wake her for school.” He stopped himself, and shook his head in disbelief. Then seemed to remember something. “She was seeing a boy earlier Thursday night. Her boyfriend. Daniel Heckbert. He’s eighteen, works at the hardware store in town. They have been dating a few months, I guess. Nice chap. He’s been around the house a few times.” He paused, “Well, she was supposed to see him Thursday night. I don’t know if she ever did. Oh god!” He slumped in a chair next to me with his hands over his face, sobbing. “I can’t believe this. She was our only child.”

Johnson and I sat quietly for a minute while Mr. Lambert cried. I desperately wanted to ask more about Daniel Heckbert. I opened my mouth, but Johnson held up his hand to stop me and shook his head. Finally after a few moments, I leaned over and placed my hand on his shoulder. I could feel Johnson’s tense stare on me. “Thank you, for the list. I can assure you we will find whoever did this to Jolene.”

He raised his head from his hands and looked into my eyes, tears streaming down his face,

“You better. You better find the son of a bitch.”

9:45 a.m.

Back in Johnson’s car, I added case notes into my phone. He switched the radio on and started softly singing along.

“What are you doing? Really?” I snorted a little.

“What? I like this song. Oh I forgot…you like your silence while you work.” He laughed to himself and switched the radio off.

“I do. It’s how I focus.” I placed my phone in my lap and stared out the window.

“You know, you’re due for a little fun Hart,” he said glancing over at me with a smirk.

“I don’t need fun. I need to focus. We have a murder case to investigate. That’s my fun, I suppose.” I gave a shrug.

“You are one twisted girl, Hart. I like it.” I shot him a look of disapproval.

We sat in silence a few more miles before I spoke again. “What do you make of this Daniel?

The boyfriend?”

“Possibly the last person to see her alive. We need to get him in for questioning as soon as possible.”

I nodded in agreement. I decided to ask the question that had been bothering me since we left the Lambert house. “Why did you stop me back there?”

“Huh?” I rolled my eyes, annoyed that he would pretend not to know what I meant. “When we were speaking to Mr. Lambert. I wanted to ask if he knew more about Daniel, but you held your hand up for me to stop. Like I was your submissive, or something.”

He gave me a sideways glance as if to silently say, really Hart? “Submissive is not a word I would describe you as. That sounds more like one of your romance novels, Hart.” I shot him

another look and he laughed. “Look, the man was crying. I didn’t think it was appropriate in that moment.”

“Appropriate? You didn’t think it was appropriate to do our job? To ask the father of the victim about her boyfriend? Possibly the last person to see her alive? That wasn’t appropriate?”

My tone was icy. More so than I’d intended, but that romance novel dig got to me.

“I just thought we should give him a minute to take it all in. He answered our questions. He answered the cop’s questions.”

“It’s our job,” I said tightly.

“Bloody hell, Hart,” his voice was raised now. “Why do you have to be so high and mighty?”

My body was fully turned toward him now, my voice slightly raised. “High and mighty? Ha! That’s calling the kettle black, isn’t it? You think you are so perfect. In control, all the time.

Everyone falls in line with you. Well, if people only knew exactly….” The look he gave me stopped me from saying anything further.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He said quietly. Feeling a bit embarrassed, I sheepishly told him I was sorry. He cleared his throat. “We’re here.”

I twisted back straight in my seat to see my car out the window. “Thanks,” I murmured. I opened the door but before I could get out, he grabbed my arm.

“Look, Hart, I just…I mean, you know that…” His voice trailed off.

“It’s fine. I understand. I went too far. It was low. We both got heated.” I pulled my arm away and got out. I gave him a slight smile as I leaned back in. “I’ll meet you back at the office.”

I watched Johnson drive away and got into my car. By now, the number of cop cars and uniforms had been reduced. I pulled up my notes on my phone and scanned over them again.

Daniel Heckbert. I opened the folded piece of paper Mr. Lambert had given me and found his contact info and dialed his number.

A mumbled voice answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Daniel? Daniel Heckbert?”

“Yeah.”

“This is Detective Hart. I have a few routine questions I would like to ask you at the Police

Station. It’s regarding Jolene Lambert. Would you be able to meet me there in an hour?”

There was a long pause on the other end. Then finally, “Um….can it be tomorrow? I’m at work all day.”

“Tomorrow will be fine.” It wasn’t. I wanted to question him right away. “Can you be there at 9:00 a.m.?”

Another long pause on the line, then, “Sure. Yeah, I can be there. I have a free period at school first thing.”

“Great, sign in at the front desk and I will collect you from there.” Another pause then a click.

Turning the ignition and pulling away from the side of the road I had a strange feeling come over me. I’m usually not quick to judge, but I could not shake that first impression of Daniel. I hit the brakes and pulled up my notes on my phone again, adding a new one beside Daniel’s name: Never asked why or what.

CHAPTER THREE

Monday, May 30th 2011

9:08 a.m.

I had been at my desk since 6:30 a.m. I was waiting for Daniel to arrive. I thought about it all night. That and the tiff I had with Johnson in the car if I’m being honest. When I got to work I had looked over the Erwin Smith statement, the man who found her while walking his dog.

Johnson was right, there was nothing in there to suspect he did this. I had spent the rest of the morning entering those of Jolene’s friends that had been questioned into the system.

I glanced up at the clock. He’s late. Maybe he won’t show. My phone rang moments later. It was the front desk letting me know that Daniel had arrived.

In the lobby stood a young man of average height, blonde hair swooped to one side of his face.

He was average build, athletic looking. Wearing the typical long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans and sneakers that most teenagers wore, he greeted me with a handshake and a polite hello. The scratches on his hand were suspicious and I noticed them instantly, but did my best not to show any reaction. I escorted him toward our interrogation room and left him in there with a soda while I waited for Johnson. I leaned against a wall as I watched him from behind a hidden mirror in an adjacent room. He tugged his sleeves down so that only half of his hands were visible. He didn’t seem nervous at all, he just sat there calmly sipping on his soda. This interview will be essential to the case. I had no doubt. What’s he thinking?

“You ready?” Johnson broke my train of thought as he stuck his head in the door.

“Yes, let’s do this.” I said. Before opening the red door to the interrogation room, I pulled on Johnson’s arm, “He has scratches. Make sure you ask about them.” With a nod between us, we entered.

We sat across from Daniel. His hands were held together, in his lap underneath the table. He looked right at us. Steady eye contact. It was the first time I realized how dark his eyes were. He was still calm.

Johnson started the questioning. “Okay, for the record could you please state your full name?”

“Daniel Stewart Heckbert.”

“Thank you. Can you tell us how you know Jolene Lambert?”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“Alright, and for how long have you two been dating?”

“Four months.” I couldn’t help but notice that his answers were flat. Emotionless. He may have been answering Johnson, but he wasn’t offering any information beyond the question asked.

“How would you describe your relationship?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You know, how did you get along? Did you fight?”

“We got along fine. Every couple fights, I guess.” He shifted in his seat. Picking up on this, Johnson asked if they ever fought physically.

“No. No, it was never like that,” he assured us.

“When was the last time you spoke to Jolene?”

“Thursday morning”

“Okay, around what time Thursday morning?”

“10:30, I guess.”

Johnson scribbled something down, but I couldn’t make it out.

“And what did the two of you talk about?”

“The usual stuff we talked about.” Johnson let out a short sigh of annoyance. “Can you elaborate on what the usual stuff is? What specifically did you talk about that day?”

“School, work- the usual stuff we would talk about.”

“When was the last time you saw Jolene?”

“It would have been this past Thursday night, but she cancelled.”

“Did she say why she was canceling?”

“Nope.”

“You never spoke to her after that? Thursday afternoon? Evening? Friday? Saturday?

Sunday?”

“Nope.”

“You can see how that seems odd to us, I mean, this is your girlfriend. You are telling me you didn’t call or text her at all after that?”

“I dunno. I guess I texted her a few times. I thought she was mad because she canceled on me.”

Daniel shifted again in his seat again.

Johnson scribbled something down, and this time I could read it: He’s lying.

“Okay, Daniel. We need to get to the point here. Jolene’s body was found early yesterday morning.” We both watched him carefully for the reaction coming.

“What? She’s….what?” Daniel looked shocked. Genuinely shocked but I wasn’t sure I believed him….yet.

“Any information you have will greatly help us with the investigation,” I said. “Anything at all.”

He looked at me a moment, then nodded. He repeated his answers to us again with a bit more detail. “I didn’t see her Thursday night. I don’t know why she canceled. I haven’t spoken to her since Thursday morning. I remember it was 10:30 a.m. because it was between classes. We talked about her science paper that was due and a fight she had with her best friend the day before. Honestly, I don’t know anything.”

Johnson leaned back in his chair and stared at him for a few moments. “Now Daniel, you can see how a fight with her best friend could be a crucial fact we need to know.”

Daniel went slightly pale, “No, no. It was with Sara. They are best friends. It was over something stupid. A nail appointment or something. Sara would never hurt her, if that’s what you are thinking.” He was slightly breathless now. It was the most emotion he had shown so far.

“I never said she hurt her, Daniel. Just pointing out the importance of the little details we need to know.”

Daniel nodded his head, cautiously.

“Now, can you tell me your whereabouts Thursday through this morning?”

He quietly gulped. “I was at work and school. School during Thursday and Friday day. Work

Friday night through this morning. Double shifts this weekend. You can check. I work at Hardy’s

Hardware store. I am trying to save for college.” He looked down at the table.

“Ok,” I said, “I will check. Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts when you weren’t working or at school?”

“My parents, I guess. I was sleeping if I wasn’t at school or work.” He kept his head down.

“So you didn’t see anyone else outside of school or work? No friends?” I asked.

“No.” I looked at the top of his head, wondering how it was possible an eighteen year old wouldn’t find time for his friends over the weekend.

“You left out Thursday night,” Johnson said, tapping his pen on the table.

“What?” Daniel looked up now.

“You left out where you were Thursday night.”

His eyes shifted, like he was searching for an answer. “I told you, I was working.”

Johnson looked down at his notes, then back up at Daniel “No, you said Friday night you worked. Not Thursday.”

He looked slightly panicked for a moment, then a calm demeanor came over him. “Sorry, I thought…. I did work. I worked Thursday and Friday night.” Johnson studied his face a moment. “What size belt do you wear?”

“Belt? Um, I dunno, thirty-two I guess. I don’t wear belts usually.” Another seat shift.

“Do you own a pocket knife?”

“Yeah, my grandfather gave me one for my twelfth Birthday. Haven’t been able to find it for about a month though.” Johnson scribbled in his notes again.

“I notice you have some scratches on your hands. Would you mind telling us how you got them?” In no way did I expect for him to say from Jolene when I was strangling her with my belt, but I was intrigued to know his answer nonetheless.

He paused only for a second as he looked down at his hands under the table. “Stray cat. Tried to rescue it from a tree. It just went berserk. Scratched my hands and arms to shit.” He looked up at us. Is he trying to see if we believe him?

“Okay, then. That’s all I need right now. I’ll walk you down the hall. We are just going to take some routine DNA swabs, photos of your scratches, that sort of thing. We are asking that of everyone that we question.” Daniel nodded in agreement. “Hart, do you have any questions?”

Still looking at Daniel I said, “Just one. When I called you and asked to speak to you about Jolene, you never asked why. I’m having trouble understanding that. Can you explain that to me?”

Daniel sat straight up and looked directly at me. He gave his head a slight shake to move the hair from his eyes. His dark eyes. Then he simply said, “I figured you found her. Why else would you have called me?”

A chill went up my spine. My hands suddenly felt ice cold. Our eyes were locked briefly.

“Right then,” Johnson said standing up. “Here’s my card if you think of anything else. I’m sure you want to find out what happened to your girlfriend as badly as we do.” He shook Daniel’s hand and held it tight.

“Yeah, right. Of course.” And with that Johnson took Daniel down the hall. I was left with an unsettling feeling. Johnson was back in the room with me.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

“I think he did it,” I said leaning back in my chair.

“Oh, I know he did. That little punk. A stray cat? C’mon! I wanted to reach across the table and slap him.” Johnson made a backhanded motion.

“Once we have a sample of his DNA, when will the comparison results come back?”

“At least a week, maybe two. We can pull cell phone records for the time being. Check text messages between the two.”

“At least it’s something,” I sighed. Johnson sat down beside me, and put his arm around my shoulder.

“We’ll get him, don’t worry.” He tucked my hair behind my ear with his other hand, letting one finger trace my jawline. There was suddenly a soft knock in the doorway. We quickly pulled apart.

“S-sorry. I just, um, a package came for Miss Hart.” The embarrassed mail clerk put the parcel on the table and shuffled out quickly.

“I gotta go,” I said moving away from Johnson and grabbing the package. I headed quickly down the hall for my office and closed the door behind me.

CHAPTER FOUR

7:32 p.m.

I stretched my arms above my head and let out a sigh as I glanced over to where the unopened package sat on a table. Finally having a moment to be intrigued, I pushed myself up from my desk, scissors in hand. Slicing through the tape and opening the box panels, I found handmade soaps and a note inside: Thinking of you, love mom. Why did she send this to my office? I smelled a few and put the box aside before I slumped back into my chair. It was moments later when I was reading over my interview notes for the hundredth time that my phone rang. “Detective Hart.”

“Miss Hart, yes this is Eloise, with Grapevine Communications. We’d received a call earlier from a Detective Johnson concerning cell phone records for Jolene Lambert?” I perked up.

“Yes, do you have them already?”

“Oh, no. It’s not possible to have them that quickly. He just requested them this morning. I am calling to confirm that I can send the documents to you? You should have them by Thursday.” Damn. That’s three days away. “Ok, yes. That’s fine. Send them to me. Did he also ask for the records of Daniel Heckbert?”

I could hear paper shuffling. “No he did not. Would you like us to do so?”

“Absolutely.” I hung up the phone. Three days. I rubbed my eyes. My cell phone pinged for an

incoming text:

7:45 p.m. from Johnson:

Go home Hart

Annoyed I texted back:

Don’t tell me what to do.

My phone pinged again with his response:

Get some rest. We’ll start again tomorrow. Be submissive for once.

I laughed to myself. He was right. It was a long day and no other leads came in. It was a waiting game for alibi checks and evidence now. I finished a bit more paperwork, shut my computer off, and picked up my box of soaps with visions of a hot bath and a glass of wine.

That’s exactly what I need.

8:34 p.m.

The tub was filling up and bubbles were bubbling. I went to the kitchen and selected last night’s wine bottle to fill my glass with. Before I made it to the staircase, there was a knock at my front door. I froze for a moment, then put my glass down on the entry way table. Looking through the peephole, I sighed and opened the door.

“What are you doing here?” I clutched my robe tighter across my chest. Standing in front of me, leaning against the door frame, was Johnson.

“I was just in the neighbourhood,” he said giving me a devilish grin.

“Bullshit.” He strolled past me into the living room, the faint smell of whiskey swooshing by me. I closed the door and turned to him. He looked me up and down with his hungry blue eyes.

My cheeks grew hot. His grin grew wider.

“Bath time, I see? Wine. Nice.” He moved a few steps toward me, running a hand through his dark hair, his eyes still scanning over me.

“Did you drive here?”

He laughed at this and said, “Cab, my dear.”

“James, you shouldn’t be here. What do you want?” I took one step away but he only moved closer.

“You know what I want Lucy.” He was so close to me that I could feel his breath on my face.

The smell of whiskey was stronger. He traced my jawline with his finger.

I said softly, “James, no. You can’t just show up and…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. He kissed me. I could taste the whiskey now. I tried to pull away, but truthfully it’s what I wanted too. What I had been waiting for since our argument yesterday. He pulled me in closer and I let him. His hand moved down my side to my stomach and pulled my robe open. He broke, only for seconds to whisper in my ear.

“Bedroom?” I nodded, submissively, as he took my hand and led me up the stairs.

CHAPTER FIVE

Tuesday, May 31st 2011

1:45 a.m.

The familiar sound of soft footsteps scuttling down the stairs and the front door quietly opening and closing. I’m sure he didn’t want to wake me, but he did. I was always awake when he left.

He never stayed, always gone before dawn. It hadn’t always been like this. Only the past six months. I never thought of myself as the type to be involved with a married man. I tried not to think of that part of his life. His wife. His children. That’s not our part. Not our world. In our world, they don’t exist. I mean I know they do, but I guess I chose not to acknowledge them. I selfishly push that part of his life out of my mind. I grew up with good values, a good home. My parents will be celebrating their 42nd wedding Anniversary next month. I don’t fit the mold, the cliché mistress.

I turned on my bedside lamp and stared up at the ceiling. I hated this part the most. After he left. It hurt. Like, hurt. I hated that he had to leave at all. I get it, but I hated it. He never told me he loved me. I’ve never told him. Truly, I knew we didn’t. He would never leave his wife for me and I didn’t want him to. We weren’t going to experience a happily ever after to this sappy romance. I knew that, but it still hurt when he left.

I rolled over on my side and turned the lamp off. I really need to get some sleep. Sara Mapleton, Jolene’s best friend, was coming in to speak with us and I was very interested in what she had to say about Daniel Heckbert. I clutched my pillow close to me. Inhaling his scent, I closed my eyes.

CHAPTER SIX

10:30 a.m.

I was back at my desk, staring at the clock. Any moment now, Sara Mapleton will be here. I wasn’t even sure what she could tell me, if anything at all. I just knew that she knew Daniel and that was enough. Daniel. All of Jolene’s friends had been questioned at this point, except for two. Sara and Josh Mason. Unfortunately, we were told Josh had been away the past week so we were unable to get in touch with him. He’d known Jolene since middle school, so he was an obvious friend we wanted to talk to and discuss any information he had. He also knew Daniel. Daniel. I was desperate to know everything I could about him. I rubbed my temples, thinking of the interview with him. He was so calm. It was eerie. I traced the side of my face with my fingertips, down my jawline. Thoughts of last night with Johnson clouded my brain. His wife was out of town with the kids. That explains the late night knock on my door. It was like a rusty old merry-go-round I knew I couldn’t get off of but all too willingly jumped on. The ring of my phone to tell me Sara had arrived brought back my focus.

I hurried down the hallway to the front lobby. A slim brunette was sitting in a chair, her hands neatly folded in her lap with her legs crossed. Her hair was long, like Jolene’s. She was a pretty girl with small facial features, except for her big round eyes. She had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. She had impeccable posture, too. If I had to call it, I would say she was a dancer for sure. An older version of her was sitting next to her. I presumed her mother. I greeted them both with a smile and asked that they follow me to the interview room. I was once again on the other side of the two way mirror, watching. Sara was nervous. Very nervous. My phone pinged with a text from Johnson saying to take the interview without him, so I entered the room, alone this time.

“Hi, I’m Detective Hart. Thank you so much for coming in today. I know this must be hard. I’m going to ask you some questions, if that is alright.” Sara nodded, as well as her mother.

“Ok, to begin could you please state your full name?”

“Sara Elizabeth Mapleton.” Her voice was quiet. Not intentionally, just quiet.

“Alright Sara, could you please tell me how you knew Jolene Lambert?”

“She was my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were six years old. We took the same dance class. We just clicked and have been close ever since.” I knew it! A dancer. Okay, focus, Lucy.

“Is there anything that stands out the Thursday she went missing? Or the days before? Did she seem preoccupied, or like there was anything wrong?”

“No, not really. I mean, we had a fight Thursday morning. It was stupid. We had a nail appointment after school that day, but I couldn’t go. I had to look after my little sister. She was mad that she would be charged a cancellation fee. I told her I would pay her back, but you can’t reason with her sometimes. She’s very stubborn. It was the principle to her, I guess. We were fine after lunch, when I saw her just before class.” It was confirmed she did go to her nail appointment but it wasn’t a key point in the timeline. I needed something more.

“How well do you know her boyfriend, Daniel Heckbert?” I could see her body tense up and her jaw clench.

“I-I-I mean, he was her boyfriend. Not really my friend. I mean, I knew him but, I didn’t really know him.” She looked at her mother, who placed a hand on her leg underneath the table. She was holding back on something.

“Did Jolene ever talk about Daniel?”

“No, not really. Well, I guess your typical boyfriend stuff. She told me he would leave sweet notes in her locker and drive her home after school. He’s a senior. They met a few months ago when she was writing an article for the school paper about his art class.” She paused for a moment, as if a realization came to her. “Do you think he did it?” Her eyes were wide with worry.

“I’m sorry, Sara, I can’t discuss the details of an open investigation.” Her eyes lowered and she nodded slowly. “Can you tell me the last time you spoke to her?”

“It was after her nail appointment. About 6:30 I guess. She was on her way to meet Josh at Starbucks on Smythe.” I looked up from my notepad. Wait, what? Josh? “She told me she would call me later, but she never did. I called and texted her like a million times until, well until…” her voice trailed off. I knew she meant until she was told her friend was found dead.

“You said she was meeting Josh. Is that Josh Mason?”

“Yeah, Josh Mason. Josh is like, one of our closest friends. I’ve known him just as long as Jolene.” She looked confused at my reaction.

“I was under the impression Josh had been away the past week. We have been trying to get in touch with him.” Sara looked at her mother and back at me.

“No, no. He was going away this week. To visit his grandparents. He said he would be back Saturday.” She seemed certain. I scribbled in my notepad. Find Josh.

“Must have been a misunderstanding. Can you tell me where you were Thursday night through Sunday morning?” There was a look of horror on her face, that I was suggesting the unthinkable to her. “We’re asking everyone. Just a routine question.”

“Well, I was at school of course. I was home Thursday night looking after my little sister and studying for a science test on Friday. Jolene and I had the same class, but she wasn’t at school Friday. I got together with some friends that night. Jolene was supposed to be there too, but again she never showed. Josh was there. We all texted her, but nothing. I helped my dad at his office on Saturday and went to the movies with my mom that night.”

Her mother backed up everything Sara told me. I asked for the names of the other friends she was with Friday night. There wasn’t much else, so I thanked them and sent them on their way. I had an issue to sort out. Where the heck is Josh Mason and why were we told he was away during the murder? I went back to my office and found a note stuck to my monitor from Johnson. Work alibi checks out for Daniel. I grabbed the note and crumpled it in my hand. Damn! I thought for sure that would fall through. Ok, we have two days until the phone records come in. Another week or so for DNA results. I glanced at my desk and saw the coroner’s report had come in. I started reading through it, but nothing stood out that we didn’t already know. She was strangled with the belt and was stabbed six times in the chest immediately after. Superficial wounds, which just means they weren’t deep enough to cause internal damage. Her time of death was ruled between 4:30 a.m. and 5:30 a.m. on Friday morning. That narrows our timeline down. There were no signs of struggle except her broken nails, which confirms that she willingly went with her killer and knew who they were. I tapped my fingers on my desk. I hated waiting. I wanted answers and I wanted them then. I opened my case file. There was a pretty picture of Jolene posing in front of a tree clipped on the inside. I removed it and taped it to the side of my monitor. I looked at her smiling face, the wind blowing in her long blonde hair. Who did this to you Jolene? Who?

“Am I interrupting?” Johnson’s voice came into to the room and startled me.

“No, just reading over the coroner’s report. What’s up?” I motioned for him to come in. He closed the door behind him and approached my desk. He stood there for a moment not speaking.

“What?” I raised my hands in annoyance.

“We should have a chat, Lucy.” His voice sounded serious and I began to feel unprepared. “I think we need to cool it…this…you and me. My wife, kids- I can’t be doing this. That was a close call yesterday, with the mail clerk. I mean, what if…” He shoved his hands in his front pockets and pretended to kick at something on the carpet. “You and me, it’s been fun. A lot of fun, but we’re partners. We bloody work together.” He exhaled like he had been holding his breath all this time. “We knew it had to end sometime, right?” He was looking anywhere but at me. I felt a pang in my chest. Believe it or not, we had done this before. This was the part when one of us finally hits STOP on the rusted old merry-go-round to get off.

“I agree,” I said shuffling the papers on my desk. I couldn’t look at him either. “Like you said, you have a wife and kids. It’s not fair to them. We can’t risk drawing any negative attention towards us. It’s been fun, for sure. It was what it was, I guess.” I glanced up quickly, to see his face. He still wasn’t looking at me.

“Exactly. I mean, you should be out there finding someone who can give you what you need.”

What I need? What I need is for him to take it all back and throw me over this desk right now.

Who the hell does he think he is telling me what I need?

“You’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t be wasting my time on a married man. No offense.” I did want to offend him though. I wanted him to get his smug attitude out of my office. He was notorious for flipping it back on me. Like I was the one hanging onto something and he was just trying to innocently back his way out. Our eyes finally met and without a word we ended the conversation. He turned toward the door and hesitated before opening it, as if he was going to say something else but instead left, closing the door behind him. That was that. Yet another ending. The tears started burning my eyes and streaming down my cheeks. I wiped them away, but they kept coming. In that moment, I was grateful he knew me well enough to close the door.

Continued...