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  Chapter 23

  Madonna woke me up when she stood up on our bed. She whimpered softly in her throat. I groaned unhappily at my sleep being interrupted.

  “If you weren’t cute and quite possibly pregnant I would be very angry with you right now,” I said without opening my eyes. Madonna huffed dog breath on my face and licked my nose.

  Yikes. That was a little too personal for me. Nose-licking violated my own personal buffer I kept between me and the rest of the world, and it wasn’t hygienic.

  Groggily I opened my eyes, mentally preparing myself to walk down the stairs and let her out in the backyard, but my bedroom didn’t look like my room. Like a carnival sideshow, my walls were awash in a sea of flashing red and blue lights. I sat up quickly, trying to get my bearings. Madonna rested her head on my shoulder and my nightgown dampened under her drooling mouth.

  I was used to being drooled on now, but it had been a long time since I’d been abruptly awakened in the middle of the night. Adrenaline pumped through me like a fire hose. Someone was out there. And the police were after that someone.

  Self-preservation demanded that I burrow back into the safe world under my covers, but I had my family’s safety to consider. If something bad was happening, I had to protect Mama and my daughters.

  There was a good chance the police had made progress on their murder investigation. This house was on the main throughway. They must have pulled someone over. Who was it? I had to know.

  I darted over to the window and stared unblinkingly at the scene below. Cops with drawn guns huddled behind parked vehicles on my lawn. My breath hitched in my throat. My heart hammered under my thin cotton nightgown.

  I shivered. This was no routine traffic stop. This was more. So much more, but what was it? Madonna whimpered beside me.

  I held my breath as the cops entered Ed Monday’s house. Holy cow. It was an invasion. I had to tell someone.

  I speed-dialed Jonette on my bedside phone. “This better be an emergency,” Jonette grumbled into the receiver.

  “Jonette, wake up,” I whispered anxiously. “Some weird commando stuff is going down over here. I’ve got a yard full of cops.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Cops. They’re everywhere.”

  “Did Lexy set the bathroom on fire again?” Jonette asked.

  “Not funny.” Lexy had experimented with matches not long after my divorce. She’d been sure she could contain a fire built in the tub, but she’d forgotten about the shower curtain which incinerated quickly.

  “What are they doing in my neighbor’s house at four-thirty in the morning?” I asked.

  Jonette yawned into the phone. “That’s what they do on TV. Go after notorious criminals when they’re sleeping. Less resistance that way.”

  I groaned aloud. “Ed Monday is not a notorious criminal.”

  “They’re not waking him up to give him a citizenship award,” Jonette said. “What’s happening now?”

  I edged the dog’s head out of the way and stuck my head close to the screen. “I can’t see a damn thing. Oh. They’ve got the street blocked with police cars too. I can’t believe this is happening. Wait a minute. There he is.”

  “We’re on the phone,” Jonette griped. “I’m not getting a video transmission.”

  “They’re stuffing Ed in a squad car and leaving.”

  Just then, I spotted Britt Radcliff down in the knot of cops on my lawn. “Hey. I see our favorite detective. I’m going down there to see what’s going on.”

  “I will kick your butt big time if you don’t call me right back,” Jonette said. “Better yet, I can be there in five minutes.”

  “Forget it. The street’s blocked. I’ll call you back.”

  I slipped on my sneakers and a robe, then darted outside. “Britt. What’s going on?”

  Britt blocked my way. “You don’t want to be involved with this, Cleo. Go back inside.”

  “I saw you haul Ed Monday off in handcuffs. Will my family be next?”

  “This was a special circumstance.”

  I wasn’t reassured. Bad thoughts swirled in my head. What had Ed done? “Did Ed kill Dudley and the bank guard?”

  Britt escorted me up my steps. “Ed Monday’s arrest has to do with an outstanding federal warrant. So far the evidence doesn’t tie him to the murders.”

  “Other than his yelling at Dudley and being forcibly escorted from the bank?”

  “Stop poking your nose around in police work. You are unnecessarily endangering yourself. If Ed looks good for the murders, I’ll add that to the charges against him.”

  Why was everyone picking on my poor nose tonight? I covered it protectively with my hand. “Are you sure you’ve got the right man? Ed Monday couldn’t fix a bank error by himself.”

  “Ed Monday is a fugitive. He’ll be taking up a new residence, courtesy of the government.”

  I didn’t have any trouble imagining Ed having a secret life, but I didn’t want him to be a rotten person. Especially since Charlie had called it from the start. That meant my intuition still wasn’t worth a damn.

  My shoulders slumped. How could I expect to solve Dudley’s murder when I couldn’t tell the good guys from the bad guys?

  Britt held my screen door open for me. “Go back to bed. We want to get out of here before the entire town wakes up.”

  I wasn’t ready to be thrust aside like a discarded toy. “What about the mass murderer on the loose?”

  Britt ruffled my unruly hair and his eyes warmed. “I would be closer to solving my cases if you’d quit providing alibis and character references for everyone I try to arrest.”

  My mouth opened and an exasperated gasp came out. “But my friends didn’t kill anyone. I know them.”

  Britt squeezed my shoulder. “In my line of work I see everything. It isn’t unusual for the murderer to be well acquainted with the victim.”

  “Why don’t you suspect me?”

  Britt choked out a short laugh. “I can read you like a book, Cleopatra Jones. Every emotion you’re feeling flashes across your face. If you’d killed Dudley, I would have arrested you that day on the golf course. I brought Jonette in for questioning because she was the last person seen with the victim. And Charlie didn’t get anything that wasn’t coming to him.”

  I felt heat rushing to my cheeks. “Charlie isn’t perfect, but adultery isn’t in the same league as killing your best friend.”

  Britt scowled. “The jury’s still out on Charlie’s innocence. I like him for the murders. I just don’t have any solid proof that he did it. Yet.”

  “Charlie isn’t the only one who could have done it. This town is full of people who hated Dudley.”

  Britt’s expression grew stormy. “Stay out of this. You’ve got kids that depend on you. You’re not expendable.”

  My lips pressed tightly together. Britt didn’t scare me, but I got what he was saying. “I promise not to do anything stupid.”

  I said good night and went inside. Stupid was a matter of perspective. It wasn’t stupid in my book to do everything possible to flush the serial killer out of our town. My family’s safety depended on it.

  * * * * *

  Charlie called to gloat after I returned from driving the girls to school. “I was right about Ed Monday, wasn’t I?”

  “What did you hear?”

  “The big arrest is all over town. Ed Monday bombed some building as a college student then changed his name and hid out for the last thirty years.”

  I sat down hard on the living room sofa to digest this news. “That is a surprise. Britt wouldn’t tell me what Ed had done this morning.”

  “He was over there? Damn. I always knew he had a thing for you.”

  I blinked. Charlie sounded jealous. Of Britt Radcliff. My intuition wasn’t the only thing on the blink around here. “Britt was here to arrest Ed Monday.”

  “I never liked Radcliff. He was always sniffing around, always standing too close to you.”

 
; I toed off my shoes and swung my feet up on the sofa. Once I finished this call, a nap was my top priority. “If it makes you feel any better, he doesn’t like you either.”

  “I have some rights here,” Charlie said. “My children live in that house. They’re too impressionable to have their mother dating anyone.”

  My blood boiled at his pronouncement. “You weren’t concerned about the girls mental well-being when you committed adultery. You scratched your itch and didn’t give a damn about any of us. Grow up, Charlie. I am seeing someone and they’re dealing with it just fine.”

  “I don’t like it,” Charlie snarled into the phone.

  “You don’t have a choice.” I hung up on him. My blood seethed. No way was I calm enough to sleep now. Might as well go to my office and get some work done.

  For sixteen years Charlie Jones told me what I could and couldn’t do. Not anymore. I was my own woman now.

  I wouldn’t readily relinquish the freedom I’d discovered. Been there. Done that.

  My newfound freedom had come at a terrible price. I wouldn’t get myself in another situation where someone else called all the shots. I could look out for myself and my family. I definitely did not need any man telling me what to do.

  Empowerment. I could do anything with it. I could ask Rafe out on a date. I could spend my entire discretionary budget on frills or truffles or a hot-air-balloon ride if I so desired. I could golf every day of the week.

  But the most important thing to the new me was keeping my family safe. I couldn’t assure their safety with a serial killer on the loose. I’d like nothing better than to see my ex rot in jail for years, but I wasn’t convinced he’d killed anyone. The timing of the White Rock development derailment seemed entirely too coincidental. It was time for me to learn more about Robert Joy.

  * * * * *

  The mobile office parked on the recently flattened Wingate farm did nothing to shore up my flagging courage. I drove past the development three times before the Gray Beast would stop. This place had a forgotten melancholy air that was enhanced by all the abandoned equipment dotting the land.

  It didn’t take an accountant to add up the facts. This place was dead in the water. I was onto something here.

  I knocked on the door. “Anybody home?”

  Someone better be here. I’d parked next to a pickup with Robert Joy Construction emblazoned on the door panel.

  I didn’t have much of a plan other than to sound out the developer. If he was the killer, I didn’t want to alarm him. My story was that I was interested in moving out here. Anyone who knew me wouldn’t believe it, but Robert Joy didn’t know me.

  The door opened. Robert Joy wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a navy-blue windbreaker. Not the well-dressed executive of an up and coming venture. More like a bum in hiding. My skin prickled with excitement.

  His eyes gave me the once over as he asked, “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

  I swallowed my last minute reservations. Finding the killer would make Hogan’s Glen safe for my family. “I’m Cleo Jones. We met at the funeral the other day. I was hoping you might have some information about this development.”

  “You interested in building out here?”

  “I’ve been living with my mother since my divorce and it’s time to move out. If I build out here, what sort of time frame are we talking about?”

  His eyes gleamed when I mentioned the word divorce. Maybe I should have worn torn sweats so that he wouldn’t think I was on the make. This was not the occasion for panty hose and a flattering dress.

  “For a pretty little thing like you, I’d do a rush job. Four to six months from when we break ground, weather permitting.”

  If he wanted to assume I was a stupid female, maybe I should play along. I wasn’t doing too well in the role of brainy sleuth. “Ooh. Six months is a long time. I was hoping there might be a model home or something I could purchase and move in right away.”

  “There’s nothing here, except for the old farmhouse, and there are other plans for the farm house. It’s going to be a community center.”

  His gaze swept my length again, lingering on my boobs and ass. I shivered. Not because I was interested, because I felt like I was being slimed. I would need a shower after this. “Six months. I don’t know if I can wait that long. I was interested in living here because I heard it was going to be part of the city. I want sidewalks and curbs and a quiet residential neighborhood. Mama’s house is on the main road.”

  “Not a problem, sweet thing. This development has annexation written all over it. You’ll have as many city amenities as you desire.”

  Including tawdry sex with the developer if I didn’t watch my step. I couldn’t think of a worse fate. Nausea rose in my throat.

  Forget acting stupid. I wanted real answers. Not some condescending pat on my head by the male in charge. “Doesn’t that have to be approved by the town council?”

  Robert Joy winked at me and handed me some glossy brochures. “I’ve been assured the approval process is a mere formality. It’s greased.”

  “Greased? Like a brownie pan?”

  “Sure thing. Look those papers over. We have something for every budget. If a single-family home is too pricey for you, we’ve got several styles of town homes planned as well.”

  I stuffed the brochures in my purse, glad not to be holding what he’d just touched. I’d decontaminate my purse as soon as I got home. This guy was so sleazy, he had to be guilty of something. “It’s the six months wait that bothers me.”

  “Six months goes fast when you’re building your dream home.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Drop over anytime. I’ll give you a guided tour once we start breaking ground.”

  “You’ve already sold some parcels?”

  He nodded. “Sales are brisk. You definitely want to jump in on Phase I. The prices increase next month. White Rock is the deal of a lifetime.”

  I’d had enough of his leering at me. Nothing could be as good as the deal I had right now. Room and board and all I was out was the cost of groceries and utilities.

  I backed out of there and sped off. Robert Joy was a hustling salesman. What I didn’t know was how far he would go to do his job. Had he killed Dudley when he found out that Dudley’s promises weren’t within his realm?

  I needed to know more about Robert Joy’s background. He didn’t arrive in Hogan’s Glen without a history. If I worked at the bank I could run his credit report. If I was a cop I could check his arrest record. Only I wasn’t a banker or a policeman. I was an accountant.

  I had a computer. I could search for previous Robert Joy developments. Those places probably had Homeowners Associations. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for me to contact them, offer them my services, and inquire about the developer.

  I didn’t like men talking down to me. I didn’t like men who leered at me. So Robert Joy already had two strikes against him.

  I didn’t want the murderer to be someone I knew. I wanted it to be a stranger like Robert Joy and I wanted him to go directly to jail.

  The developer had been right about one thing. Six months wasn’t a long time. I’d been with Mama for much longer than that and we hadn’t killed each other yet.

  Maybe I’d been going about this sleuthing all wrong. What if it wasn’t a money angle? I hadn’t considered revenge or passion as motives.

  Most of the town had a grievance against Dudley, but the bank guard hadn’t been overtly rude to anyone. Since I didn’t know much about the bank guard, I had to focus my investigation on Dudley’s murder.

  Who had hated Dudley enough to lure him out on the golf course when no one else was around? If I knew that, then I’d know who killed him. My thoughts were logical, but my growing uneasiness was not.

  Identifying the killer would put me right in his path. I didn’t know the first thing about killers, but I would willingly give my life to protect my family. I hoped it didn’t come to that.

  Chapte
r 24

  After calling Homeowners Associations for three Robert Joy developments I found on-line, I felt like Goldilocks. Greenbrook Farms curtly informed me they had a big gun CPA firm on retainer, Jackson Meadows might consider replacing their current CPA if my price was cheaper, and Fox Hills was desperate for a CPA.

  I seized the opportunity and tootled down the road to meet the frantic treasurer of Fox Hills. Kamikaze interstate traffic kept my full attention on the way there. I wasn’t sure why people tolerated this congestion all the time. Even with our recent crime wave, I’d be glad to get back to Hogan’s Glen.

  “How lucky for me that you called this morning,” Geraldine Young said as she showed me into her two-story brick home, a shy toddler riding her hip. Geraldine was a vibrant brunette in her late twenties. She wore a white blouse, designer jeans, and a toe ring. “I phoned ten CPA’s in the last twenty four hours and none of them could do this audit right away.”

  “Homeowners Association Audits are a growing part of my accounting business,” I said, handing her my business card. The slate floor in her spacious two-story foyer told me a lot about the quality of the houses Robert Joy built. He might be a sleaze bag, but he knew how to put a house together.

  “I’m glad to work you in this time, but I don’t routinely do things last minute.” Over the years, I’d found the need to be firm with new clients. If you let them walk all over you at the start, then your relationship was doomed to a series of disappointments. I wanted to learn about Robert Joy, but not at the expense of gaining a bad client.

  “This is a one-time emergency, I assure you,” Geraldine said. “Our previous Association treasurer died in an auto accident six weeks ago. I just got the books and his records last week. It took me a few days to go through everything, and I was horrified that we were overdue for the yearly audit.”

  “Your Financial Report is completed?”

  “Yes. I have everything set out for you in the kitchen. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure.” I sat down at an oak table in a room painted the rich red hue of Arizona rock formations. While she strapped her baby in a high chair, I flipped through the records.