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“So maybe not the husband, but we know the killer didn’t do it for money. He didn’t steal her fancy car and didn’t snatch her purse.” Colin strolled back toward the window and parted the curtains. The coroner had left and now a tow truck had Amanda’s Mercedes latched behind it.
Michelle joined him at the window, still clutching her sweater around her tall, slender frame. “I can’t believe this is just some random killing. Not in Coral Cove.”
“I don’t believe it is random.”
Turning toward him, she tilted her head. “Why are you here investigating Tiffany Gunderson’s death? She died in an elevator shaft in a hotel in San Francisco. Shouldn’t that be a job for the SFPD?”
Colin took a deep breath and held it. Officially, the FBI had no idea he was here in Coral Cove investigating a murder. Should he tell Michelle that Tiffany hadn’t been the first Coral Cove High alumna to die a violent death? That Tiffany hadn’t been the first body found with a strange yet touching calling card? Should he tell her two, now three women from her graduating class all had their lives snuffed out in an instant?
He searched her wide, dark eyes, still glassy from shock and tears. Easing out a breath, he brushed his thumb across her damp cheek, dislodging a strand of hair. “Tiffany’s death involved some special circumstances. That’s why I’m looking into it.”
Her nostrils flared as she narrowed her eyes, no longer cloudy and unfocused. His vague explanation hadn’t fooled her one bit.
She tightened her jaw and then shrugged, returning her gaze to the formless shapes scurrying back and forth in the street. “You’re not at liberty to tell me anything, but I don’t believe for a minute Tiffany’s death was an accident. Not after tonight.”
Colin ran a hand across his mouth. He’d have to watch what he said in front of Michelle because right now she didn’t have to know she might be on this killer’s short list of victims.
She gasped, and her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “Did you see that?”
No, I was watching you.
While Michelle dug her nails into his flesh, he cupped his hand around his face and peered out the glass. “I don’t see anything except the cops out there wandering around.”
She tapped on the windowpane and whispered. “A light at Columbella.”
CHAPTER THREE
“I DON’T SEE ANYTHING.” Colin’s broad shoulder pressed against hers as he leaned forward to squint into the fog-shrouded night.
Could he feel her shivering? Would he realize it had as much to do with his masculine scent and the feel of him next to her as it did with the flickering light she’d seen at Columbella House?
She clenched her teeth and released her grip on Colin’s wrist. Amanda’s blood hadn’t even dried on the street and here she was getting giddy over a man’s touch. Maybe that email had it right: Like mother, like daughter?
Jerking away from the window, Michelle swiped her keys from the table and scooped up a flashlight from a basket by the door. “I’m going to check it out.”
“Are you crazy?” Colin grabbed her hand. “Someone just murdered your friend, and he’s still out there.”
“That’s right. Someone just murdered my friend, practically on my doorstep, and I’m not going to sit here and do nothing.” She wrestled from his grasp and jingled her house keys in her palm. “I won’t be walking over to Columbella House by myself, anyway. The cops and the county CSI guy are still out there.”
Now that she’d blurted out her brash statement, more from guilt than anything else, Michelle dragged her feet to the front door. She didn’t really want to cross the street to Columbella House. She didn’t want to go anywhere near that gloomy old Victorian, so out of place among the bungalows and beach cottages of Coral Cove.
Colin yanked his gun bag from the coffee table by its strap and hitched it around his waist. “If you saw a light at the house, I believe you. But the cops probably already canvassed that area. They might not be so anxious to cover that ground again.”
Michelle released a pent-up breath. Now she could save face and actually follow through with her bold plan. She’d feel a lot safer with Colin and his gun by her side.
“Suit yourself.” She shrugged and stepped onto the porch.
The spotlight still illuminated the area where Amanda had parked her car, although the car itself had been towed. The two remaining Coral Cove officers and the crime scene investigator from the county looked like they were doing more talking than investigating. A murder like this in Coral Cove would tax the resources of the small-town cops. The P.D. would have to work with the county sheriffs and if Amanda’s murder had anything to do with Tiffany’s murder, they’d have to call in the FBI… Good thing they wouldn’t have to go far to find an agent.
Shoving his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker, Colin approached the two police officers crouching next to the dark stain on the asphalt. Michelle followed him but allowed his broad back to block her view of the crime scene.
“Are you guys finished out here?” Colin swept his arm across the damp crime scene tape hanging limply in the fog.
Jerry Donnelly, one of the Coral Cove P.D. officers answered, “Yeah, we’re done. Nobody else even heard Michelle’s scream.”
Colin faced the guy from the county. “Did you collect all the evidence?”
The guy patted the bag hanging from his shoulder. “Fingernails, hair, blood, a cigarette butt and assorted bits and pieces. Hopefully, we’ll get more from the body before the autopsy is performed.”
Michelle’s stomach rolled and she ground her teeth together.
Colin bent down and plucked something from the ground. “You missed something.”
The investigator snorted. “That’s a petal. The murder occurred outside on a street. I don’t know about you Fibbies, but we don’t collect every twig and every speck of dirt as evidence.”
“It’s a rose petal. It’s not a twig or a speck of dirt.”
The other man pointed to the rosebushes lining Michelle’s fence. “Yeah, it’s a rose petal. Just like all those other rose petals on those bushes.”
“It’s your case…for now.” Colin slipped the petal inside his pocket. “Michelle saw a light over at Columbella House. Did you guys already check over there, Officer Donnelly?”
Jerry straightened his shoulders and gave a brisk nod. “We already canvassed the yard. Nothing.”
The CSI investigator shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other. “I have to go to the police department to meet with Detective Marsh. You coming?”
Jerry brushed his hands together. “We’ll come with you. Michelle, are you going to be okay? You can come and stay at our place tonight.”
Michelle glanced at her watch and then shifted her gaze toward Columbella. Not much night left. “I’ll be fine. I have good, sturdy locks on my door and a phone by my bed.”
“We’ll send a patrol car by a few times before dawn.” Jerry turned to his partner, a wide-eyed new recruit, and jerked his thumb toward the patrol car.
Michelle watched as the fog gobbled up their taillights. “I guess they weren’t interested in another look at Columbella House.”
“Are you?” Colin raised his eyebrows in question.
“Sure.” Michelle licked her lips. “Are you and your gun going with me?”
“Absolutely.” Colin unzipped his gun bag and slid his Glock into his pocket. “Do you have that flashlight handy?”
Michelle flicked on the flashlight and waved it in front of her. They crossed the street together, and she clenched her hand at her side to keep from hooking on to Colin’s arm.
He unlatched the gate and pushed it open, the rusty hinges squeaking in protest. The abandoned house peered at them through windows streaked with dirt and grime.
With his hand in his pocket, Colin crept toward the sagging porch. He pointed down and Michelle followed with the flashlight, which illuminated steps of splintered wood. “Nobody’s been through this entrance for quite a while.”
“I didn’t see the light from inside the house. It was somewhere in the side yard.”
They shuffled through the dead leaves toward the side of the house, the shaky beam of the flashlight lighting the way.
Colin tugged at the gate leading to the backyard of the sprawling house. “It’s locked, Michelle. This is probably as far as the police got. And if you saw a light, it couldn’t have come from the backyard. You never would’ve seen a light from back there.”
Michelle rolled her stiff shoulders. “Maybe the light did come from the house.”
“If it did, I’m not up to breaking and entering.”
“Neither am I.” She slumped against the gate. “Maybe I imagined the light. Maybe it was just a reflection from the police lights on the street. Columbella House has been giving me the creeps for years.”
“It’s a blight on the town. I wish some member of the St. Regis family would either sell the place or raze it.”
“Were you still here when Kylie Grant’s mother hung herself from the balcony?” Michelle shivered and pushed off the cold chain link of the gate.
“No, I wasn’t. She’d copied a previous suicide. When Mia St. Regis’s sister, Marissa, took off before her wedding, some said she’d killed herself, too.”
“Yeah, but then both Mia and Marissa’s fiancé got those letters from Marissa explaining that she and Mia’s boyfriend had taken off together. I suppose the house is Mia’s now. Can’t blame her for not wanting to deal with it.” Michelle tugged at the sleeves of her sweater. “I felt sorry for her even though she’s not the type of woman who inspires pity. I guess Coral Cove Drive has seen its share of scandal.”
Colin wedged a finger beneath her chin. “You had it tough in high school when your mom ran off with that senior at Coral Cove High.”
Michelle blinked, afraid to meet the sympathy in his eyes. “I had it tough before that, since I was tall and skinny and wore glasses and braces.”
He pinched her chin and grinned. “It didn’t help that you were a bookworm and as smart as all get-out—a total bully magnet. I’m surprised you didn’t escape Coral Cove like the St. Regis twins did.”
“I had to take care of my dad. When Mom left with that boy, Dad collapsed.”
“Do the kids still think this place is haunted?”
“Not just the kids. In fact, it makes me uneasy just standing here even if you do have a gun in your pocket.” Michelle shifted away from Colin’s warm touch and the toe of her shoe lodged against a stepping stone buried beneath the mulch. She tripped and sprawled onto her hands and knees, the flashlight bouncing out of her hand.
Colin dropped beside her. “Are you all right?”
“I banged my knee on a cement stepping stone. I didn’t even see those before.” She sat back and rubbed her throbbing knee. You could dress up a klutz but she’d still be a klutz.
Leaning across her body, Colin reached for the flashlight and cursed.
“What’s wrong? Is it broken?”
He stepped across her and kneeled on the ground, one hand now grasping the flashlight and the other picking through the dirt and leaves. He cursed again, his body tensing.
“What did you find, Colin?” Michelle’s heart banged in her chest, her breath coming out in short spurts.
He extended his hand toward her, cupping several rose petals in his palm.
Michelle swallowed. He’d seemed unusually interested in a petal he’d picked up near Amanda’s body. What significance did a few rose petals have?
“They’re rose petals.” Her words sounded stupid hanging between them. “L-like the one at the crime scene?”
Colin jerked the beam from the flashlight across the tangled bushes bordering Columbella House. “Do you see any roses here, live ones?”
Michelle squinted into the darkness. “No, but I’m sure the Vincents have some. Dorothy Vincent is always giving me tips on mine. Couldn’t the wind have blown the petals over here? What’s with the petals?”
Colin hooked his arm beneath hers and pulled her up. “Let’s get out of here.”
Colin charged through the front yard and this time Michelle clung unabashedly to his arm until they were through the rusty front gate.
Opening his hand, Colin aimed the light at the delicate yellow petals. “Do the Vincents have yellow roses in their yard?”
“I think so.”
“And what about you? Are your roses yellow? The petal I found near the body was pink.”
“I have both pink and yellow. Do you think the killer left the petals near Amanda’s body? Then what? He ran across the street to Columbella House and showered more petals there?”
Michelle didn’t know a thing about murder investigations, but she was a mathematician and she knew logic. And this didn’t seem logical.
Ignoring her questions, Colin dropped to his hands and knees just outside the crime scene tape. He trailed his fingers across the ground and peeled something from the asphalt.
Holding it up to the light, he said, “It’s another petal, a pink one this time. I think Amanda’s murderer left the petals here and the Coral Cove P.D. didn’t see them, didn’t recognize them as being out of place.”
Michelle folded her arms across her churning stomach. “You’re scaring me, Colin. What is all this about?”
The coiled intensity of his frame relaxed and he tipped his head from side to side as if to relieve a kink in his neck. “I’m sorry, Michelle. Let’s go inside.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her body flush against his. His warmth seeped into her, but her teeth insisted on chattering, anyway. Colin had suspected a link between Tiffany Gunderson’s death and Amanda’s murder, and he’d just found it.
After Michelle unlocked her front door, Colin propelled her to the couch, pressing his hand against the small of her back. “Sit.”
She sank into the corner, curling her long legs beneath her. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he released a long breath, obviously coming to some decision. “Do you remember a girl from your class named Belinda Frank?”
The name drew a visceral response from Michelle, as a sour taste flooded her mouth and her hands curled into fists. “I remember her. You talked about my being a magnet for bullies? Well, she must have had the strongest magnetic field of all because she was the worst. She was a witch.”
“Well, ding-dong, the witch is dead.”
Michelle’s jaw dropped as a confusing tumble of emotions swirled through her brain. “I—I didn’t mean… I’d never wish…”
Colin skimmed his fingertips along her cheek. “I know that. Nobody in town knew about her death?”
“The Frank family wasn’t local. They moved here Belinda’s sophomore year and then moved out after she graduated. Nobody could even locate her to send an invitation to the reunion.”
“One of the reasons they couldn’t locate her is because she changed her name to Gigi French.”
“Gigi French? Sounds like a hooker.”
“She worked as a stripper in Vegas.”
Michelle ran a hand through her tangled hair and closed her eyes. “How did she die?”
“Someone slit her throat and then showered her with rose petals.”
