Out for Blond Read online

  “No, ‘we’ don’t. This is none of your business. You don’t work for the department anymore, so it’s not your problem.”

  “But I’m the one who brought Ralph down. It’s because of me that he’s in jail. So, it’s not as if this has nothing to do with me.”

  “Like you said, Ralph’s going down either way.”

  I let out a noisy breath. “The O’Shaunessys keep fucking everything up.”

  “Let it go, Stern. You know that you get crazy about the O’Shaunessys. This is not your fight. It’s my deal, okay? I’m the one who has to deal with the crooked police, not you. You should go out and get yourself a nice little case, and you should—”

  “Shut up, Pike,” I muttered.

  “I mean it,” he said. “Stay out of this. You shouldn’t even know about this. I have no idea what you’re doing skulking around here in the middle of the night.”

  “Skulking? Who says that? Besides, that wasn’t what I was doing. I was walking across the parking lot while you were driving like a bat out of hell—”

  “Promise me that you’re going to leave this alone. If you want, I’ll even look into some of the unsolved missing persons cases, see if there’s something—”

  “I have a case right now, thank you very much.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, good. So, you’ll let the stuff go about the O’Shaunessys. You won’t interfere in this.”

  I sniffed. “I have a case.”

  “Ivy.”

  I folded my arms over my chest.

  “You just better let me handle this,” he said.

  * * *

  “All right, Laura,” I was saying into the phone. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I make progress. Thanks for everything, and I’ll talk to you soon.” I hung up.

  I had a picture of Tess Carver on my desk. I’d printed it out from online. There were photos of her plastered all over the news sites. I peered down at her smiling face. She was a pretty woman with short, sandy hair and freckles on her nose. Unlike Laura Hopper, she wore both makeup and a tiny silver necklace around her neck. The pendant looked like it was a little silver squirrel. Huh. That was fairly unique.

  I had to smile a little. Any woman who wore squirrel jewelry was all right in my book.

  And then I thought of her body in the morgue, gray and flaccid, cut into, destroyed.

  Someone had done that to her. At least two someones if I was right. And I was going to make sure I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who was responsible. And then those people would pay.

  Brigit pushed open the door to my inner office. The office was divided into two rooms. One contained Brigit’s desk and a waiting area with chairs. The inner office had my desk and files. It was where I talked privately with clients. Well, semi-privately. The walls in this building were pretty thin.

  “Hey,” said Brigit. “Were you just on the phone with that Laura Hopper woman?”

  “Yep,” I said.

  “You’re taking the case?” she said.

  “I am,” I said.

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “There a problem, Brigit?” I asked. Brigit had been my assistant for about six months now, and she was always overstepping her boundaries. She thought of herself as a detective-in-training, not as someone who answered the phones and took care of the billing, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to get her proper station through her head. Brigit was a recent college graduate who wanted more than anything to be an entrepreneur. She’d tried to support herself doing fine art, but it hadn’t paid the bills, so she supplemented her income working for me.

  “Not a problem exactly.”

  “But?”

  “Well, it’s only that I think that Laura person is brainwashed by Gunner Bray. I think he’s got her head all turned around, you know, and I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to humor her and take her money.”

  “Seriously? I thought you were all about taking people’s money. You’re really on it with sending out invoices. You send them out early sometimes.”

  “I just mean…” She twisted her hands together. “You don’t really think that he didn’t do it, do you?”

  “I don’t know.” I got up from my desk. “Let’s say I have reasonable doubt.”

  “Why?” she said.

  “I saw the body of the victim last night. I think there might have been more than one murderer.”

  “How did you see the body of the victim?”

  I just smiled at her. “Never you mind that, Brigit.”

  She glared at me. “You did something illegal again, didn’t you?” Brigit didn’t approve of the little shortcuts that I used from time to time to make my job easier. “I bet you broke into the police station.”

  “I didn’t break in,” I said. “That would have been too much for even me.”

  “Well, you did something bad.”

  “Brigit, what does it matter?”

  “It’s just that it’s sleazy,” she said. “Everyone knows that psycho is guilty, and if you’re out there trying to prove his innocence, it’s in poor taste.”

  “If he really is guilty, then there won’t be any way to prove that he’s innocent,” I said. “I promise this will be about the truth for me, okay? It won’t be about anything else.”

  “So, once you find proof he’s guilty, you’ll drop this?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  I put my hand on the door. “Anything else?”

  “No, that’s all.”

  “Okay, then,” I said. “Get back to work.” I shut the door to my office.

  * * *

  I leaned over the counter to smile at Gina Baker, who worked at the Renmawr Police Department. Gina and I used to be friends, a long time ago when I worked in the department myself. She was one of those straight-shooting broads, not afraid to say what was on her mind. She had quit smoking a few years back, but had just switched to chewing nicotine gum—which she chewed like regular gum, not the way you’re supposed to “chew” it, parking it between your gums and your lip. I had fond memories of her, but we hadn’t really talked in a while, and I wasn’t sure how things were between us. Most people in the department didn’t like me much.

  She eyed me, her jaw working up and down with that gum. “I’m pretty sure you don’t work here anymore.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “How are you, Gina?”

  “Well, I didn’t sleep well last night, and I got a killer crick in my neck that I can’t get rid of. But other than that, I’m peachy.”

  Same old Gina. I laughed a little. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “There a reason you’re here?”

  “I guess I’m just looking for a favor,” I said.

  She chewed her gum. “A favor? From me?”

  “Yeah. I never did anything to you that I can remember, so I was sort of hoping that—”

  “This favor going to get me in trouble?”

  “Not if no one finds out you did it,” I said.

  She chuckled. “I don’t know if I like this. What’s this all about, anyway? You trying to set up some kind of gang bang with all the guys in Robbery or something? That’s your speed, isn’t it?”

  I flinched. “You know, actually, I still like ‘em one at a time.”

  She chuckled again. “All right, all right. I’m not going to give you a hard time. I never thought it was much of anyone’s business who you wanted to make time with, anyway.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

  “So, what’s this favor?”

  “You know about the missing evidence?”

  “Well, it’s all anyone’s been talking about,” she said. “But it ain’t my fault, because no one’s signed in that wasn’t authorized.”

  “Obviously, it was an inside job,” I said. “People with authorization getting kickbacks from the O
’Shaunessys. It’s not as if it hasn’t happened in this department before.”

  “I really don’t think I’m going to like this favor.”

  “I just want a copy of the people who’ve signed in since the evidence came in, that’s all.”

  “Why?” she said. “You know that Internal Affairs is investigating this.”

  “Bullshit. IA is shit at investigating anything. Besides, I don’t even know how deep this rabbit hole goes. How high up do the O’Shaunessys have people on the payroll here?”

  “So, you think you’d do a better job.”

  “It’s a photocopy, Gina. You don’t have to worry yourself about what I do with it after I’ve got it.”

  She laughed. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to give it to you, Ivy.”

  I leaned in closer. “Please, Gina.” I knew this was a long shot, but I had to try. “Whatever you think about me, you know I’ve got no love for the O’Shaunessys. Now, half of the bad shit that goes down in this town is because of them, and no one’s stopping them. Hell, no one’s even fighting them. If you care about your town, make me that photocopy.”

  She chomped on her gum.

  “Please,” I said again.

  “I shouldn’t,” she said.

  “No one has to know,” I said.

  She sighed. “Stay here. I’ll be right back. And if you tell anyone that I—”

  “Your name never gets mentioned, I swear.”

  She got up. “One minute, okay?”

  Ha! Success. Good old Gina, coming through in a pinch. I was grateful.

  Of course, Pike didn’t want me looking into this at all. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  * * *

  The first thing that Laura Hopper insisted that I do was to meet Gunner Bray. She said that any lingering doubts I had about the guy would be completely wiped away the minute I talked to him. She said he was the most amazing man she’d ever met, that he was gentle and kind and sweet and good, and that he was completely incapable of violence, let alone murder.

  I wasn’t convinced. Whatever this guy was, he was obviously capable of getting a nice girl like Laura to think he was the best thing since sliced bread. He had some kind of crazy charisma, and that could be dangerous.

  Last year at this time, if you’d asked me if I could spot a crazy psychopathic killer, I probably would have said that I could. I’d worked Homicide, and I’d met a lot of killers, some not the least bit repentant for their actions, some real hard, cold-blooded pieces of work. I would have said that I was pretty good at spotting that kind of guy.

  But then last fall, I met Ralph the Hatchet. Well, he was just Ralph to me back then. He was a trucker passing through my little town, and I met him in a bar in Keene. He was a monster. I didn’t know it when I met him, but he’d killed upwards of twenty different girls. He liked to take them up north to an abandoned hotel, where he’d cut them up into little pieces and dump their remains in an empty swimming pool. He was thoroughly crazy, thoroughly psychotic.

  And I couldn’t tell.

  When I met him, he seemed completely normal. I flirted with him. Hell, I slept with him.

  So, these days, I wasn’t so confident about my psycho-dar. I figured that if everyone else thought that Gunner was sweet and charismatic, there was a good chance I might too. I needed to keep my guard up, not allow this man to worm his way in and change my mind. Because there was a very good chance that he had killed Tess Carver. I wasn’t going to forget that. No way.

  Still, I also wanted to keep an open mind. It was quite possible that he was innocent. Maybe people thought he was some kind of crazy cult leader, and he was actually just a nice guy trying to run some kind of hippie farm. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  I wasn’t sure how I was going to pull off this tight rope I wanted to walk—being on guard and regarding him as innocent. But I was going to do my best.

  Gunner was still in jail, so I’d be meeting him there. His bail had been posted ridiculously high in keeping with the seriousness of his crime and the fact that no one wanted him to walk. Unfortunately, no one counted on Gunner having access to money, so the bail was actually going to be paid and Gunner was going to be able to go free. According to Laura, Gunner would be out in a matter of days.

  Laura came with me to the jail, but I asked her to wait while I spoke with Gunner. I wanted to be able to talk to him on my own, without Laura hanging on my every question. Partly this was because I still suspected him and I didn’t want her to witness that. Partly this was because I thought that I might have a better chance of getting him to show me a different side than what he showed his followers. Obviously, with his number one fan there, he’d have to play a part for her. If, indeed, he was playing a part, that was.

  So, I was able to see him on his own. There was nothing between us except for the glass that separated the inmates from the visitors. I sat down opposite him and surveyed him.

  I’d seen pictures of Gunner Bray. He was in his late thirties or early forties, and he was a good looking man. What little bit of aging his face had done only weathered him and made him look more rugged and handsome. He had a full head of dark hair, which was long enough to hang down his back. He also always sported a nicely trimmed beard. In his pictures, he always looked like a rock star—pretty features, almost elfin, coupled with a rugged masculinity.

  I had expected his pictures to be more appealing than him in real life. But the truth was, he was quite striking in the flesh. His long hair was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and his beard wasn’t as nicely trimmed, but he still looked good.

  He smiled at me, and his eyes twinkled.

  Wow. Okay. I felt a little dazzled, and I couldn’t figure out why. This guy was charismatic. I looked away, busying myself with pulling out my pad of paper so that I could take notes. My pulse was racing.

  Stop it, I scolded myself. He’s probably a murderer. What’s wrong with you?

  When I looked back up at Gunner, he had an amused smile on his face, as if he found my reaction cute or something.

  That pissed me off.

  He raised an eyebrow and placed his hand questioningly on the phone in his cubicle.

  I snatched up my own phone, glowering at him.

  He raised his to his ear.

  “I’m Ivy Stern,” I snapped. “Laura Hopper hired me to do some investigating into the Tess Carver murder.”

  “I know who you are,” he said. “You’re the woman who found Ralph the Hatchet. I remember seeing you on the local news.”

  Right, right. My fame preceded me. “Well, I’ve seen you on the local news as well.”

  “No doubt,” he said. “I’ve been convicted of this crime well ahead of my trial, at least in the court of public opinion. It’s not the way things are meant to go in the American justice system. But then we live in an insane society, bent on insane ends. It is not a world of ideals by any stretch of the imagination. We are children of chaos.”

  What the hell did that mean? I kind of thought that I understood and that I maybe even agreed with him. It wasn’t right that he was basically considered guilty until proved innocent. Still, that “children of chaos” bit? Well, it made him sound a little nuts.

  I cleared my throat. “Listen, I’m here because the police have decided that they’ve got their man. They aren’t interested in looking further into the case. They aren’t interested in pursuing other suspects. They think it’s you, the end. I’ve agreed to poke around a little bit, to see if there are any other angles that can be pursued. If you’re not the killer, I’ll find out who is.”

  “If?” he said.

  “I have to admit that I’m not convinced either way yet. It’s possible that you are responsible for Tess Carver’s death.”

  He chuckled softly. “Well, I appreciate your honesty. I like honesty, and it’s not in demand these days. If everyone demanded honesty instead of another app for their iPhone, we’d have honesty, but people
do like their apps. And honesty gets shoved by the wayside.”

  Did he sermonize like this all the time? I made a face at him. “I want to ask you a few questions.”

  “Of course.” He smiled. When he smiled, he was kind of dazzling again.

  I looked down at my lap, at my notepad. “Tess Carver. She was one of your followers?”

  “I don’t have followers.”

  I raised my gaze. “I’m sorry. What would you call them?”

  “There are other members of the Clayton Society,” he said. “Just because I’m the president of the nonprofit organization doesn’t mean that I’m their leader. In fact, one of the things that we pride ourselves on is being truly self-governing. That means that everyone is equal.”

  “Okay,” I said. “So, Tess was a member of the Clayton Society, then.”

  “No, she wasn’t,” he said. “She used to be, many years ago, but she’d left the farm to pursue her own interests. She was back, but she was only a visitor.”

  “A visitor?”

  “Yes,” said Gunner. “We do have visitors.” He laughed a little.

  “So, she was just going to be leaving at any time, then?” I was starting to formulate a theory, here. Tess had been trying to get off the farm, and Gunner hadn’t wanted her to leave. He’d stopped her from going by murdering her.

  Of course, why carve those symbols into her arms then?

  “I suppose so,” he said. “That really would have been up to her. I asked to come. I wanted to work out an arrangement with her regarding our son.”

  “What?” I sat up straighter. “You and Tess were… involved?” Why wasn’t this being reported? Did the police know this? No wonder they thought it was him. He was her ex-boyfriend.

  “Years ago,” he said.

  “So, she was your girlfriend.”

  “Well, not exactly,” he said. “You see, we don’t use those kinds of labels on the farm. We aren’t against pair bonding, of course. If that’s what both parties want—a monogamous relationship—then we’re quite supportive of that kind of life choice. We simply are open to other ways of being together as well. And Tess and I had never made a commitment to each other, not of any kind. Still, when I discovered that she’d had a child, I was relatively certain that the child was also mine, and I wanted to be part of his life.”