Dead Air Page 7

  “I’m sorry you had to get up so early to get me home before going to work,” she said. “I hope the traffic isn’t bad.”

  Brad smiled. “No worries. The pleasure’s all mine for my fiancée.”

  She drew her arms in around her body, trying to stave off the crisp morning chill. “That’s going to take some getting used to.” She laughed. “Mrs. Kaitlyn Ludlow. Has a nice ring to it.”

  Brad’s momentary laugh faded, and his eyes narrowed. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

  Kaitlyn leaned into the window and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Call me tonight.”

  Kaitlyn stood on the curb and watched as the car pulled away. She glanced at her watch, frowning at the time. 6:35. Poor Brad, she thought. It would to be a long day for him. All because of her.

  As the BMW disappeared up Belmont Avenue, she picked up the duffel bag and walked up the driveway to her house. At the front door, she fished in the bag’s side pocket, looking for her keys. A car door slamming shut somewhere behind her barely registered, but the sound of footsteps approaching along the driveway caught her attention. There was a prickle on the back of her neck. The confidence she had felt with Brad evaporated and left her with a racing heart and trembling hands. Who could it be? A neighbor? Not at this hour. Turn around, she told herself. Face whoever it might be. End this. But paralysis had set in. She was unable to move. Maybe she could open the door and get in the house? She’d be safe inside. She fumbled with the key ring. The jangle of keys suddenly seemed deafening. Why couldn’t she find the right one?

  The footsteps drew up behind her, and then all went silent. Kaitlyn straightened her back, her muscles tensed in anticipation.

  “Ms. Ashe?”

  Kaitlyn turned, breathing a sigh of relief. She felt the tautness in her shoulders fade. Julie Lewis, brushing a few rogue strands of black hair out of her eyes, matched Kaitlyn’s smile.

  “Detective Lewis? You startled me.”

  Julie slipped her hands from the pockets of her grey overcoat. “Sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

  “I’m a bit freaked out over those letters.” Kaitlyn paused, then added, “Can I help you with anything?”

  “No. We had a report of a suspicious vehicle in the area. I was just checking it out.”

  Kaitlyn couldn’t stop herself from making a nervous glance up and down the street. She saw nothing out of the ordinary. “Oh. Did you find anything?”

  Julie shook her head.

  Kaitlyn couldn’t shake the residual nervous anxiety. Her trembling hand made it difficult to slip the house key into the door lock. She hoped the detective didn’t notice. “I was going to make myself a mug of hot tea. Want to come in and join me?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  Once inside the house, Kaitlyn tossed the duffel bag on the sofa as she passed the living room and led Julie toward the kitchen at the back of the house. She gestured for the detective to have a seat at the kitchen table, then filled a red tea pot and placed it on the stove. “It’ll just be a few minutes.”

  Sitting down at the table, Kaitlyn rested her elbow on the tabletop and supported her head with her hand tapping her fingers on her cheek. “Have you had any luck with that letter?”

  Julie returned her gaze. Kaitlyn noticed a coolness beyond their icy blue hue. When the detective smiled, the coolness seemed to fade. “Nothing yet. Forensics is still looking over it.”

  “Do you think they’ll find anything?”

  Julie shrugged. “In all honesty, it’s doubtful.” She placed her hands on the table, intertwining her fingers. “We might have gotten more if we had the other letters.”

  Kaitlyn turned her eyes away. “Sorry.”

  “You had no way of knowing this would escalate.”

  All went silent for a moment. Kaitlyn wondered if this had been a good idea. Why had she invited Julie in for tea? Was it because she couldn’t bear to be in her house alone? She’d put on a brave face for Brad to quell his concern. Deep inside, however, she was terrified.

  Julie broke the silence. “Are congratulations in order?”

  “What?”

  Julie gestured across the table. “The ring. You weren’t wearing it the other day.”

  Kaitlyn felt a spark of excitement as she recalled Brad’s proposal. “Oh my god! Yes. He asked me yesterday morning.”

  Julie smiled. “Congrats! How long have you two been dating?”

  “A little over a year.”

  “Did you know he was going to ask you?”

  Kaitlyn shook her head. “No. He’d planned to ask me next weekend while we’re in the Poconos, but . . .”

  “But he couldn’t wait?” Julie laughed. “Typical man. Utterly impatient.”

  Kaitlyn rose from the table to answer the call of the whistling tea pot. “I know. I know.”

  “Where in the Poconos?”

  “I don’t know. He’s made the reservations. One of those ‘couples only’ resorts, I think. I don’t really care as long as it’s got one of those hot tubs shaped like a champagne glass.” Kaitlyn pulled two mugs from a nearby cabinet. “What kind of tea? I’ve got Earl Grey, and herbal.”

  “What kind of herbal?”

  She pulled two boxes from the cabinet. “Apple cinnamon, and chamomile.”

  “Definitely the apple cinnamon. I’ve got to work all day.”

  Kaitlyn poured hot water into two mugs, then dropped a tea bag into each.

  “The Poconos are nice this time of year. You going up on Friday night?” Julie asked.

  “No, Thursday night after my show. He’s going to pick me up at the station. A nice three-day getaway.” Kaitlyn carried the mugs over to the table, placing one in front of the detective. “Here’s your tea.”

  Kaitlyn ambled into the reception area of WPLX, whistling an aimless tune that she couldn’t quite place. She crossed to the reception desk and reached her arm over it so that her hand was inches from Sammy’s face. Wagging her fingers, she didn’t have to wait long for a response.

  “Oh my god! When did he ask? I want details! Tell me everything!” Sammy leapt up from her chair, grabbing the hand and pulling it closer to her face.

  Kaitlyn’s smile widened, and she wondered if her cheeks could stretch any further. “Sunday. In his kitchen. Over breakfast.”

  The corners of Sammy’s smirk fell, a frown forming on her face. “Really? That’s not very romantic. Tell me he at least got down on one knee. If he didn’t get down on one knee, I’ll be very disappointed.”

  Kaitlyn nodded and laughed. “What happened after wasn’t very romantic either. If you know what I mean.”

  Sammy snorted. “You didn’t. On the kitchen floor? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” She made her way around the reception desk to give Kaitlyn a hug. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you!”

  As their embrace ended, Kaitlyn placed her hand on Sammy’s shoulder. “I’ve got to ask. Will you be my maid of honor?”

  “Do I get to throw you a helluva bachelorette party?”

  Kaitlyn grinned, nodding her head. “If it gets you to say yes.”

  The receptionist spun around, waving her hand with an air of excitement. “This city’s never seen a party like the one I’m going to throw for you. There’ll be food. Chippendales. Alcohol. Chippendales. Did I mention the Chippendales? Or maybe we could get those Australian guys. What are they called?” Sammy thought for a second, then added, “Thunder from Down Under!”

  Kaitlyn chuckled at her friend’s enthusiasm. Apart from Brad, Sammy was the closest she had to a best friend. She loved Sammy’s no-nonsense, “take no bullshit from anyone” attitude, and their mutual fondness for workplace gossip created an instant bond between them. But she’d kept Sammy at arm’s length, never fully confiding in her. “Once we’ve picked a date, you can start planning your little shindig.”

  “Shindig? This’ll be the party of the year. Maybe the century.”

&nb
sp; “Just remember, I want to enjoy my wedding.” Kaitlyn folded her arms, giving her friend a shake of her head. “No hangovers.”

  Sammy waved her hand in dismissal. “I make no promises. Have you told your Mom yet?”

  “Of course. Called her yesterday. She’s thrilled.”

  “Who’s gonna walk you down the aisle?”

  A momentary pang of sadness gripped her heart. Kaitlyn hadn’t given it any thought, but it was something she’d have to carefully consider. The heart attack had taken her father almost two years ago. She’d always found it ironic that he’d survived some of the fiercest fighting during the fall of Saigon only to die in his sleep forty years later. “Don’t know.”

  Sammy leaned in close, speaking softly. “You should ask Scott. He’d be thrilled.”

  “Maybe.” Kaitlyn pondered the suggestion. Scott had taken her under his wing when she first moved to Philadelphia. But it was more than that. He’d welcomed her into his family. During her first year in the city, Scott—along with his wife Amanda—frequently invited Kaitlyn to join them for dinner, doing what they could to help her settle into her new life. Scott was supportive of all of her ideas and was always prepared to give her “fatherly” advice.

  Sammy made her way around the desk, preparing to return to her seat. The receptionist smiled. “I almost forgot. There’s flowers waiting for you back on your desk.”

  Kaitlyn’s face flushed with warmth. “Oh god, he didn’t!”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Brad’s determined to embarrass me.” She smiled. “Has anyone seen them?”

  Sammy nodded. “I think Scott and Kevin are back there now.”

  “Damn.” Kaitlyn moved toward the inner office door. “Guess I’ll go face the music.”

  When Kaitlyn entered the bullpen, Scott was leaning back in an office chair with his feet resting on Kevin O’Neill’s desk. Kevin sat on top of the desk; his legs folded under him. As she walked through the door, Scott dropped his feet to the floor. His salt and pepper shoulder length hair shifted with the movement. “There she is.”

  Kaitlyn gave them both a smile, crossed to her desk, and stopped to smell the bouquet of red roses that stood on her desk in a glass vase. Then, she dropped her bag on the desk and spun around to face her co-workers.

  “He asked me,” she said.

  Kevin tilted his head to one side, looking puzzled. “Asked you what.”

  Scott leaned forward, slapping Kevin’s arm. “To marry him, you idiot.”

  Hopping from the desk, Kevin crossed the room, enfolding Kaitlyn in an embrace. “Congrats!” He held her tight, his arms pulled her against him and his hands lingered in the center of her back. He reeked of cigarette smoke. As usual.

  Scott waited behind him, hugging her when she pulled herself away from Kevin. “You did say yes, right?”

  As they parted, she held out her hand for them to see the ring. Kevin gave a low whistle.

  “That’s quite a rock,” he said.

  Scott smiled, patting Kevin on the back. “That’s what an attorney’s salary gets you in this city.”

  Kevin gestured to the flowers on the desk. “A ring and flowers.”

  Warmth rising in her cheeks, Kaitlyn smiled and turned away to hide her blushing face. It was just like Brad to do something that would embarrass her in front of her co-workers. He’d get an earful from her tonight. She leaned over the flowers again and sniffed the sweet aroma. Catching sight of a small envelope stuffed down between the stems, she reached in to pull it out. The florist’s name and address were typed on the front, as well as her name. This had better not be something dirty, she thought. She pulled the card from the envelope. As she read the words typed on the card, she inhaled quickly. Her hands trembled, fingers clutching the card. She staggered backward. Her hip hit the desk. The vase of roses toppled off the desk and shattered to pieces when it hit the floor.

  12

  The waitress led Rodney to a booth on the far side of the restaurant. After taking his drink order, Shelli left him alone to look over the menu. The atmosphere in McGonigel’s Pub was a stark contrast from the bright lights of his office. The dark wood of the paneling, floor, and booths, along with the dim lighting, cast the Irish pub’s interior in gloomy shadows. A single bare bulb hung above the booth and cast a solitary cone of light onto the menu in his hands.

  The pub, only a block and a half up Lancaster Avenue from the police station, had become part of his Monday and Thursday routines. An hour of firearms practice in the police station’s antiquated basement firing range was rounded off with a good meal at McGonigel’s. He put the menu down. He was becoming a creature of habit. Sheppard’s pie again. It’d be the fifth time in a row. Or maybe sixth. He’d lost count.

  Shelli returned with his Arnold Palmer, setting the glass down before him. The young woman smiled and placed her hand on her hip. “What’ll it be, Rod? Your usual?”

  Rodney laughed, shaking his head. He reached for the menu. “Give me a few more minutes. I don’t ever want to hear you ask again if I want the usual.”

  She smiled, giving her well-chewed piece of gum a loud crack. “Take your time. It’s quiet in here tonight.”

  He watched her walk off, noticing the spider web tattoo on the back of her neck. Funny, she’d never worn her jet-black hair pulled up before. Why the change? With his attention back on the menu, Rodney was determined to find something that he’d never ordered. Perhaps he needed to broaden his restaurant options.

  The shrill of his mobile phone interrupted him. He slipped it from his pocket and answered.

  “Detective? It’s Kaitlyn Ashe. Do you have a minute?”

  He frowned. Her voice sounded distraught. Never a good sign. “Of course, Ms. Ashe. How can I help?”

  “Please, call me Kaitlyn.” She went silent for a few moments, leaving him to wonder if the call had been cut off. Then she spoke again. “I’ve had another letter. Well, it’s more like a note. It came with some flowers.”

  “Flowers?”

  “A vase of roses was delivered to the radio station. With a card. I think it’s from the same person sending me the letters.”

  Rodney glanced up at Shelli, who had returned to the table. He gestured that he needed a few more minutes. He heard the chewing gum crack again as she walked away. “What makes you think they’re from the same person?”

  “Let me read it. ‘Congratulations may be in order, but you’ll get none from the Shallows.’”

  It was Rodney’s turn to fall silent. There was that reference to the Shallows again. He wanted to ask her about the drowning, and about why she’d changed her name. According to the report Julie had sent him the other day, the drowning had been accidental. He’d contacted the Woolwich Township Police on Sunday to ask for more details, but the investigating officer had retired years ago and now lived in North Carolina. Not much chance of finding out anything from him.

  He opened his mouth to ask about her past but realized that the restaurant had begun to fill up. Too many ears. Not the right place or time.

  “What’s the florist’s name? Is there an address listed on the card?” he asked instead.

  “Happy Petals Florist. Market Street.”

  Rodney frowned. Philadelphia’s Center City was out of his jurisdiction. He’d have to liaise with the city police on this one. It’d slow things down. The GBT Strangler would make sure of that.

  “Set aside everything that came with the delivery, including the flowers. I’ll need them for evidence.”

  He heard her hesitate. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “The vase broke.”

  “What? How?”

  “I was startled by the card. I bumped it off my desk.”

  Rodney sighed; a bit louder than he’d intended. He was sure she’d heard his frustration. “Hang on to the pieces then. I’ll get onto the florist and see if I can find out who ordered the flowers.” He paused. “Are you going to be okay?”

  There was anot
her moment of hesitation before she answered. “Yes.”

  After he hung up, Rodney took a long sip from his Arnold Palmer. He should give Julie a call to give her an update on this latest development. But his eyes fell on the menu again. It could wait until he’d eaten. It would be shepherd’s pie again tonight.

  Rodney turned his Dodge Challenger onto Market Street and drove slowly past the darkened storefronts. A sports car flew by him. Its angry horn blasted out a compliant from its driver. The bright streetlights shone on the wet pavement, giving the street in front of him a glossy sheen. A faint mist coated his windshield, the remnants of a passing shower. His car radio played quietly in the background. The music faded as her voice drifted through the speakers.

  “It’s quarter past eleven at WPLX, and Kaitlyn Ashe is here to make sure you’re tucked up in bed, warm and tight. Warm is what you’ll want to be. The forecast is calling for a chilly overnight. I’ll give you all the details coming up next on WPLX.”

  Her voice, although familiar, was different somehow. There was a sultry undertone to it that Rodney hadn’t heard before. He found it difficult to ascribe the voice to the woman he’d met just a few days ago. The voice of Kaitlyn Ashe on the radio exuded a strong sense of self-confidence, where the Kaitlyn Ashe he’d met had seemed anxious and afraid.

  After finishing his dinner, Rodney had returned to the office and tried to call the florist who’d delivered the flowers to the radio station. They’d closed for the evening. He wasn’t going to get any further information tonight. Julie had already left for the day, and he toyed with the idea of calling her, but decided against it. This new development could wait until morning.

  At home, Rodney endeavored to return to the book that he’d abandoned the other day. But his mind wandered back to Kaitlyn Ashe. News of the floral delivery made him apprehensive. The letters had come on a regular routine. But, in the past week, the routine had been broken. The frequency of the messages had increased. Things were beginning to escalate.