Dressed to Kill Read online

  "Freeze!" I stood up and kicked the fallen gun away from the injured man. He kept his still useful hand over his knee injury. The other man showed no sign of slowing down as he ran into the parking lot.

  "You freaking shot me!" the intruder whimpered.

  "Yeah, and you shot her.” I gestured at the unconscious woman, noticing the hostage had left as soon as the man had let go of her and was nowhere in sight.

  I looked over the counter and found the clerk huddled where the shopping bags and hangers were normally stored. "Get out of here. The police are on the way."

  I glanced back at the door, looking for the runner. There was a group of police officers in the parking lot. They already had the would-be robber in cuffs. "Your partner didn't get far."

  "He's my brother. Did they shoot him?"

  "No, he wasn't waving his gun around like you were."

  "None of this is right. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

  "You're telling me.” I sighed, never taking my eyes off the wounded man.

  He flinched as he adjusted his hold on his leg. “We wanted some Christmas money. These stores, they’re rolling in it."

  I bent over and checked the injured woman for a pulse. She was still alive. "You could have applied for a job and earned money as Christmas help."

  "Nobody will hire an ex-con."

  "No, not now."

  The police came in a moment later in full tactical gear. I was happy to allow them to take over and deal with the would-be robber. They ran in formation, scanning for any perceived threats.

  I held my gun up above my head and shouted, "I'm a police officer! Don't shoot!" The SWAT team surrounded the check-out the cubicle in a matter of moments. One of the six men turned his attention to the injured woman on the floor. Another went to handcuff the bleeding man. They removed the mask from his face in one quick motion. He was just a kid.

  "What's your name?"

  "I want a lawyer. That crazy lady shot me." He pointed up at me from the floor.

  "Why were you wearing a mask?" the officer asked. He picked up the gun I'd taken from the man from under my foot where I'd kept it.

  "It's cold out, in case you hadn't noticed." I surrendered my gun as he spoke and showed my identification to the nearest officer. He looked at my credentials and handed me back my weapon.

  "Sure. So, your partner said you wanted to rob the place. He said it was your idea."

  "What partner? I don’t see anyone."

  One officer called for the EMTs to enter. Within a few moments, teams with stretchers rushed in, trying to manage the space around the tightly compressed racks of clothing.

  I shook my head. "He's your brother if I'm not mistaken."

  "I'm not his keeper."

  "Looks like you need to do a better job of keeping yourself out of trouble." The EMTs loaded the shooter onto a stretcher while the other team attempted to resuscitate the woman who looked unnaturally pale as she lay on the white sheet. The shooter was hauled away on a stretcher with two armed guards.

  The man who was taking point on the raid remained behind. "Now, Ms. Rich, that was a brave and reckless thing you did. You should have left this matter for a team of professionals."

  "You're welcome," I grumbled.

  The woman who'd been held hostage emerged from behind the clothing. "Well, I'm glad she did what she did. He would've killed me."

  "There was a hostage?" the SWAT team leader asked.

  "Yes. The situation was breaking down. The other guy was freaking out. This wasn't what he had in mind. The one that was shot was the same guy that shot that woman and took a hostage. He was the one to take out of the situation. It gave the other guy an out. Like I predicted, he ran rather than fought. He was terrified."

  "I bet he was. He’s fifteen years old."

  "What about the shooter?"

  "Eighteen. He’ll go to trial as an adult, for sure." He indicated the young man being taken out of the store.

  "It's a shame. They ruined their lives for a quick buck. And they could still cost the other lady hers."

  I shook my head. "I don't think they thought any of this through."

  "They’ll have plenty of time in jail to think about it, if they survive there.” I noticed one of the SWAT officers making his way back to his commander. He was looking at me with a creased brow. Without his helmet, something about him looked familiar.

  "The area’s secured. Looks like those two were on their own."

  I nodded. "I'm glad there were only two. If they were with a team, my plan would never have worked."

  The officer looked at me even harder. "I know you, don't I?"

  A surge of panic ran through me. Did he know me from the mess with the Alexandria case or from my time as a wanted person? "Do you?" I practically choked on the words.

  "Yeah. Your name's Avery, right? We met in Sandusky when we were going through the Academy."

  I looked at the officer more carefully. He'd filled out, his hair was a bit thinner, and now he was wearing a short, groomed beard that was hardly more than stubble. But I did know him. "Oh, my gosh! It’s a small world. Jesse Moreno—how in the world did you end up here?"

  "I transferred here to be closer to my mom's side of the family. What about you? What brings you here? I hope it's not the promise of more department store raids."

  "Well…'tis the season." I laughed.

  "That sounded so much better when I heard it as a kid."

  "I agree, but the holidays make people desperate, and desperate people sometimes do stupid things."

  "Yeah, that's why we keep the Kevlar ready," Jesse said. "But seriously, what brings you to town?"

  "I came to visit my dad for Christmas. He lives here, now."

  "Oh? I didn't know he'd moved. Look, if you're in town for a while, call me. I'd love to buy you a drink and catch up. Nobody believes the stories I tell about the stupid stuff we all did in the Academy."

  "I'm not even sure I still believe it!" I took Jesse's number. I don't know why I took it, other than that it somehow seemed natural. The memory of a time when police work circled around stupid mistakes and comradery was enticing. I wanted to believe I could move past the corruption I'd either dug up or stumbled into over the past two years.

  I stuffed the scrap of paper into my pocket.

  "It was great to see you.” Jesse smiled before heading for the parking lot. I couldn't help but notice that Jesse had the cutest dimple when he smiled. How had I not noticed that before? He jogged off to catch up with the other members of the SWAT team.

  The team leader interrupted. “Ms. Rich, I'm afraid we’ll need you to come down to the station and make a statement about what happened here."

  I nodded. "Oh, sure, I guess that makes sense." The idea of showing up at yet another police department made my stomach flip-flop. Returning to the action of a case had been a nice spike in adrenaline—I'd missed that part of the action—but not knowing who I could trust or what they wanted was a whole other issue. One I hadn't sorted out yet.

  Chapter 9

  I took a deep breath and looked the SWAT commander in the eye. "I have to meet with a photographer here about a case I'm consulting on. Can I come by in about an hour?"

  He checked his watch. "Consider it a professional courtesy. You understand that we don’t want to track you down."

  "Believe me when I say I’d rather not be tracked down," I said.

  "So, I’ll see you around three o’clock at the downtown station." The SWAT commander glared at me with his arms crossed.

  I would not be intimidated. "Sure, I'll be there," Even if walking into another police station felt like a trap.

  After the SWAT team had cleared out and all the shoppers had been reassured it was safe to resume shopping, I headed back to the photo studio to find Riley. It relieved me to see that the place had emptied. Riley was working on photos on a computer screen.

  "Ms. Lane, is now an all right time to talk? I'm sorry we missed your lunchtime ea
rlier."

  Riley stood up, startled. "You’re still here. My manager said you crawled out there and ambushed the robbers."

  "I couldn't let them go around shooting people, especially here and at Christmas." I laughed with nervousness.

  "Never in a million years could I do anything like that," Riley admitted.

  "I can't imagine. Responding to these situations is part of me." A revelation hit me as I spoke: it was a part I'd been pushing aside in the hope of something better.

  "What did you need to ask me about?"

  "I'm investigating Ralph Maddox's murder. I'm told his girlfriend, Ava Lenore, was the first to be attacked."

  "I'm sorry. I wouldn't know anything about those celebrity types except what I see on TV."

  "Nice try. I know about your website and the photos you take on the side, the ones of the rich and famous."

  "Oh, well, I'm not supposed to do photography outside of the studio. I'm under contract."

  "I’ve already seen the pictures you posted from the night of the attack. What I need to see is the other ones, the shots that weren't good enough to share for credit. You may have captured evidence of what happened that night without even realizing it."

  Riley grimaced. She stood and closed the door to the studio room. "Look, the photos are on this jump drive. I'll burn you a copy to a CD, but please don't tell my manager I've been moonlighting."

  "Tell him? Why would I? I'm not here to cause you any trouble. I want to find out what happened and to make sure that whoever’s responsible pays for that they did through the justice system."

  Riley rushed to copy the files from a jump drive and burn them to a CD. She practically threw it at me as we walked to the door."

  "Thanks again for your help!"

  "Um, no trouble. Thanks for stopping the shooter."

  "I'm glad I could help."

  I stuffed the CD into my bag and made my way back to Dad's car.

  ***

  The downtown police station was updated and modern. It was a welcome contrast to the basement station in the tiny town of Smithville. I parked and headed for the front door. Getting into the building was more of a challenge than I'd realized. I had to put my bag in a basket, submit my gun for inspection—along with my credentials to carry it—and go through a metal detector.

  "All right, Ms. Rich, you can head on in," the guard quipped after almost ten minutes of quality time trying to get through the door.

  "I should bill by the hour," I grumbled.

  "Good luck. We’re trying to cut back on expenses, not add new ones.

  I went to the front desk and checked in. After waiting several more minutes, a heavy-set, middle-aged man came lumbering toward me. He reached out and grabbed my hand to shake it, nearly knocking me off balance with his enthusiasm. "You must be Avery Rich. I'm David Morris. My officers have been telling me all about your experience in the department store today. I can’t wait to hear about it firsthand."

  "I wanted to make sure nobody got hurt."

  "Commendable," Chief Morris said. We walked toward his office door and headed for an office and thankfully not an interrogation room. I'd shot a man when not on official police duty. Having a concealed carry permit covered me as far as being armed was concerned.

  "Have a seat, please." Chief Morris gestured to the seat opposite his desk.

  I sat down and tried not to seem nervous.

  "So, why were you at the department store, Ms. Rich?"

  "I came to speak to Riley Lane, a photographer at the photo studio in the store."

  Chief Morris scribbled my response down on a form. "Is she a friend of yours?"

  "No, I never met her before today," I admitted.

  "So, what made you seek out a stranger?" An uneasy feeling came over me. My investigation was stepping on the department's toes. A part of me didn't want to stir things up if I didn't have to, but I had no real reason to hide my intentions from David Morris.

  "I wanted to see pictures she took on the side. She has a website. She’s been moonlighting as a paparazzo."

  Chief Morris raised his eyebrows. "You don't strike me as a fangirl."

  "I'm not. I wanted the pictures for a matter I'm investigating."

  "And that matter is…?"

  "I'm consulting on a case for the FBI under Agent Genevieve Richards."

  "So, that would be the Maddox murder?"

  My jaw almost dropped. Chief Morris knew what I was after, but nothing in his demeanor suggested he was concerned. "Yes," I stammered.

  "Agent Richards already filed the paperwork to collaborate on the case. She mentioned that she was working with a consultant. I assumed we'd meet formally when we brief the case next week, but as it is, we have a new reason to get to know one another." Morris's warm smile was a welcome change from the hostility I'd expected.

  "Yes, I'll be there. First, we all have to make it through Christmas!"

  "Yes, the holiday season can be a little hectic. That's why what you did today was crucial. You were in the right place at the right time. We're stretched thin, covering shifts. Few would've stepped in the way you did. The community is in your debt. With the place crowded this time of the year, things could have gotten out of hand, way too fast."

  "I wanted to diffuse the situation. I was hoping nobody would get hurt."

  "So, what happened?"

  I told Chief Morris every detail of what had happened. He wrote it all down before sliding the pages over for me to read and sign.

  I twisted my purse strap between my fingers, fidgeting. "Have you heard anything about the lady who was shot or the kid shooter?"

  "It looks like both will pull through," Morris said.

  "I'm glad."

  He nodded. "Me, too. Things could have turned out so much worse."

  Chief Morris walked me back to the front desk, thanking me as we went "I guess I'll see you next week. I look forward to hearing if you’ve found anything."

  "I look forward to finding something worth sharing." I smiled. Something about Chief David Morris made me feel at ease. He was physically intimidating, but his warmth and candor were impossible to miss.

  ***

  I started the aging computer back at Dad's house and watched it wheeze to life. "Dad, you need to upgrade this thing."

  "Why? It does a great job holding down the desk." Dad laughed.

  "You're such a Luddite," I said.

  "Guilty as charged. Your mom was the one that wanted to keep up with the times."

  "Sure, but didn't Mom need a computer for work?"

  "Err, sure. I guess so. How would I know? I wasn't at work with her. By the way, have you found anything that might help Bob out?"

  "I don't know. Maybe something in these pictures will give me an idea of where to look next. I don't have access to the case files, yet. If all goes well, I’ll be able to see that part of the investigation when I go to a briefing next week, but for now, I'm on my own."

  Dad nodded, but he didn’t look reassured.

  I loaded the CD and opened the first picture file. It didn't take long to see why the photos hadn't made the cut for the website. Most of them were out of focus or off-center. Many were blurred, taken as the unwilling subjects went about their business.

  Dad looked over my shoulder. "It’s kind of eerie, if you think about it."

  I turned to look at him. "Why do you say that?"

  "Well, Ralph here’s going through the motions. He had no idea what was coming. I mean, he’s walking down the street with a beautiful woman and then, just like that, he’s dead. I bet he didn't know it would be his last day when he got up that morning."

  "It’s sad when you put it that way," I admitted, "but I bet somebody knew it would be."

  "True, unless they were after Ava, to begin with." Dad pointed to an image where Ava had turned away from the camera and was whispering something in Ralph's ear.

  "She seemed to think so in her TV interview, but why would Bob want to hurt Ava? He has a financi
al motive to kill his brother, but if Ava was the target, I can't see why in the world he'd go after her.”

  I zoomed in on an image that showed Ralph's face clearly. "Hmm, I thought Ralph and Bob were identical twins."

  Dad nodded. "They are. When they were young men, it was very hard to tell them apart. They'd attend events as one another as a joke. Sometimes, they pulled it off, but they had very different personalities."

  I squinted at the image. I googled Bob's name, trying to find a current picture of him. After a few moments, I found one attached to a story detailing his arrest. I adjusted the screens so the images would be side by side. "I can see a resemblance, but up close, I wouldn't have thought they were identical."

  Dad leaned in to examine the pictures. "I haven't seen Ralph in person in years. It looks like they've aged differently. They've lived different lives, so I guess that makes sense."

  "I guess so," I grumbled, but something didn't feel right. Had Ralph had work done to change his looks?

  Dad went back to his favorite place on the couch and continued reading his book. I noticed that Milly had followed him and curled up against him as he read.

  I continued to flip through the photos, finding what I'd expected to find. Ava's stalker friend, Beck Oliver, was on the prowl. In the background of a photo taken a few blocks from where Ralph had been killed, Beck was getting out of a car. I took down the license plates. I would have to call in a favor to run them, but it was worth a try.

  Beck Oliver blended in well with the typical tourists. Wearing sunglasses and a ball cap turned backward, he was dressed to blend in. I zoomed in on him in a few other images. He kept his distance. There was nothing like a restraining order to make too close for comfort tricky to achieve without raising everybody's alarm. Beck followed behind the couple, observing them from a distance like a hunter stalking his prey at a distance. I had to zoom in on several of the photos to see him among the crowd at all, but if Beck was behind them, there was no way he could've beaten them to the alleyway and staged the homeless overdose scenario before they'd gotten there.

  "All right, Beck. You weren't the one in the alley, but what did you see that day?" I said to the photo.