Killer in Sight (A Tom Lackey Mystery) Read online

introduce him to a more exotic taste, but when he was

  alone Tom preferred to tap back into his old ways. Born

  and raised in Smithfield, North Carolina—population

  13,000—Tom still preferred biscuits and gravy over

  eggs benedict any day.

  He was getting ready to take the first sip, the aroma

  of strong coffee tantalizing to his nostrils and the steam

  rising up to fog his reading glasses, when Sergeant

  Parker appeared out of nowhere like a bad dream.

  “We need to notify the family, Lackey. Wanna do it,

  or should we call St. Louis?”

  “I haven’t thought that far yet. I suppose it is

  probably better for them to deliver the news in person

  than for us to call. Would you want to find out about

  your daughter’s death over the phone?”

  Parker’s face softened. He had a kid of about the

  same age, and his paternal instincts were stronger than

  his crusty attitude. Lackey had no children of his own,

  but over the years he had become close to Kathy’s

  daughter, so he could sympathize.

  “No, I guess not,” Parker answered with a much

  more subdued tone. “I will get on the phone with them

  in a minute, and ask them to visit the family.”

  “Thank you, Parker. We can request dental records

  as soon as the family is contacted. After Greer is

  through with the autopsy, and if everything checks out,

  we can start with her apartment. We have a local name,

  Shannon Brinkley. She was Tracey Newman’s best

  friend and she is the one who called the family to let

  them know that Tracey didn’t show up for her shift at

  the hospital.”

  “You think that’s her, Lackey?”

  “Look for yourself.” Lackey tapped a few keys on

  his computer and clicked on the photo Tracey

  Newman’s family had provided. “See the resemblance?”

  Parker arched his eyebrow. “Shit…it sure looks like

  the same girl. Okay, I’m going to call St. Louis now.”

  When Parker left, Lackey took a sip of his coffee,

  but it was already lukewarm and not sweet enough, so

  he put the lid back on and dropped the cup inside his

  waste basket. Today, coffee wasn’t in the cards and a

  cold-hearted killer was still on the loose. Sometimes he

  really hated his job.

  Chapter 3

  Rose Howard focused on watering her plants to hide

  her nervousness. According to the police in North

  Carolina, there had been no activity on Tracey’s credit

  cards or debit card since the day she didn’t show up for

  work over a week ago, but Rose refused to wrap her

  mind around the possibility that something could have

  happened to her daughter. The family had been on edge

  since Shannon called; preparations were being made for

  Rose and her husband Mike to fly to Raleigh by the end

  of this week, if something didn’t turn up. Tracey was a

  free spirit—she always had been—and Rose preferred to

  think that her young daughter was gone to take care of a

  friend, and maybe she just didn’t take the time to notify

  anyone. Yes, that had to be it.

  The soft patter of Alexis’ footsteps transported Rose

  back to the present moment, and she turned around to

  welcome her younger daughter with a smile. “Hi, Angel

  Face! I didn’t hear the bus. How was school?”

  Alexis wrinkled her miniature nose and shrugged.

  “It was okay, Mom…same old stuff.”

  Her expression made Rose smile in spite of the

  anxiety that kept her heart trapped in an ice chest. Alexis

  acted so grown up, and even if she was very petite for

  her nine years, her mind was far beyond her

  chronological age. There was something very wise

  about Alexis, and many people often commented that

  she was an old soul. The child was also extremely

  sensitive in a way that Rose considered a little strange,

  and she sometimes surprised her parents with questions

  that made them uncomfortable. Since a very early age,

  Alexis claimed she had a friend—an imaginary pal

  named Lily—who visited her from time to time, and

  told her all sorts of strange things. Rose and Mike

  worried about it at first, and they even took Alexis to see

  a specialist, but the diagnosis was that Alexis was a

  perfectly healthy child with a very fertile imagination.

  “Is your stuff packed to go to Grandma’s this

  weekend, Alexis?” Rose asked while she continued to

  water the plants.

  Alexis pouted. “I don’t want to go to Grandma’s! I

  want to go with you!”

  Rose’s nerves were on edge, but she tried her best to

  maintain her cool. “You know that’s not possible,

  Alexis. Dad and I are flying to Raleigh to look for

  Tracey…we’ve talked about that.”

  “Tracey is not coming back, Mom. Tracey is dead!

  Lily told me.”

  Rose’s hand flew to strike her daughter’s face

  before she could even acknowledge her reaction. “Stop

  it with this nonsense! Lily doesn’t exist!” The moment

  her hand fell back to her side, Rose was aware of what

  she had done. Alexis just stood there looking smaller

  than ever, her big blue eyes filling with tears.

  “Oh, Alexis, I am so sorry…I didn’t mean to…I’m

  just a bit out of sorts, you know. Tracey is fine. We are

  bringing her home with us.”

  “No, you are not! Tracey is dead!” Alexis shot

  through the room and ran up the stairs to her room

  before Rose could say anything else. Rose followed

  with her eyes, but didn’t move, and as soon as Alexis

  was gone she burst into tears. She wasn’t sure how long

  she sat there crying, and when Mike walked in from

  work he ran to her and wrapped his arms around her.

  “There, there…it’s going to be okay, Darling.”

  Rose cried softly against his chest, the bulk of her

  tears now spent. “I’m sorry…Alexis came home from

  school and told me Tracey was dead. I couldn’t handle

  it, even if what she considers facts are based on an

  imaginary conversation she had with Phantom Lily.”

  Mike’s face darkened. “This is a lot for her to

  process, Rose. I’m not surprised she is seeking comfort

  in any way she can. Yet…she shouldn’t say things like

  that. I will talk to her.”

  “No, you’re right. She is upset. I shouldn’t have

  reacted the way I did.”

  “Come on,” Mike said. “Let’s go make a cup of tea.

  It will make you feel better.”

  They stood up and were walking slowly toward the

  kitchen when the doorbell rang.

  “Probably just a salesman,” Mike suggested. “They

  always ignore the ‘No Soliciting’ sign at the entrance to

  the subdivision. I will get rid of him in a second. Why

  don’t you get the kettle on the stove while you wait?”

  Rose nodded and they separated in the hallway—

  Mike heading to the door, and Rose to the kitchen.

  Rose filled the kettle with water and turned on the


  burner, then she sat down at the kitchen table to wait for

  Mike. After a few moments she wondered why he

  wasn’t coming back and decided to go see if the

  salesman was gone, but as she stood up, Mike walked

  through the kitchen door, a thousand invisible bricks

  weighing on his shoulders. His face was pale, and Rose

  could tell his eyes were wet with tears, though he had

  done his best to wipe them before coming in.

  “Mike? What’s wrong?”

  Mike didn’t respond immediately, and Rose felt

  panic rising from the pit of her stomach until it

  constricted her heart. “Mike! Tell me what is wrong!”

  Mike walked closer, and put his arms around her.

  His voice was eerily soft. “Sit down, Rose.”

  “Mike, you are scaring me…what is it?”

  Mike looked down at his feet for a few seconds,

  then he took a deep breath and spoke. “Two detectives

  just came by to bring the latest news, Rose. It’s not

  good.” His eyes shifted back down, unable to face the

  pain he knew would register in Rose’s face.

  “But…but what kind of news, Mike? Is Tracey

  hurt? Is she in a hospital? We need to leave right away

  and bring her home, so I can stay with her until she is

  completely healed.”

  “Tracey is not going to heal, Rose. Her body was

  found early this morning in a park in North Carolina.”

  There, he had said it. Rose just sat there, with her mouth

  open, unable to speak and just shaking her head. When

  she at last recovered her voice, it sounded like the voice

  of a child. “No…no, they are wrong. Tracey is fine, they

  have the wrong girl. I just know it! It’s not my baby.”

  Mike kneeled in front of her, and took her face into

  his shaking hands. “Rose, I hope to God you’re right,

  but according to the detectives, it is almost certain that

  the woman they found is Tracey. They will need dental

  records and a positive identification, but everything else

  seems to match.”

  Rose stood up but she could barely move. “No…it’s

  not possible. I will talk to them. They need to find the

  parents of this poor girl. They can’t afford to waste their

  time like this.”

  “Rose…the description of the girl matches Tracey’s

  photo. Let’s go talk to them.”

  When Rose looked into Mike’s eyes again, the

  certainty of her denial wavered slightly, but she brushed

  off the unwelcome sensation and walked with him to

  meet the detectives sitting in the living room.

  One of the two men, a tall, slim individual in his

  late fifties, stood up the moment they entered. He had

  small hazel eyes set deep in his thin face, and his dark

  hair was streaked with veins of silver throughout. The

  other man was younger, maybe in his mid-thirties,

  sporting cropped sandy blond hair and a thin moustache.

  He wasn’t as tall as the other detective, but he appeared

  more muscular. As if on cue, the second man stood up

  also, and for a moment Rose hoped they would just

  disappear and leave her in the comfort of her illusion.

  “Mrs. Howard, I am Detective Wilson, and this is

  my partner, Detective Wheeler.” The older man

  extended his hand, but Rose didn’t shake it. “Please sit

  down, Mrs. Howard.”

  Rose sat on the leather sofa and took a deep breath.

  “As I was telling my husband, Detective, I think there is

  a mistake. This young girl is not our daughter, I am sure

  of it.”

  Detective Wilson nodded, well aware of the sense of

  denial and shock parents experience when told their

  children were gone forever. “Preliminary identification

  suggests that the young woman found by Raleigh police

  early today is your daughter, Ma’am. Of course, we will

  need to order dental records and we will need you or

  your husband to identify the body.”

  “I know how you can tell it is not my daughter,

  Detective. Tracey has a small Tinker Bell tattoo on her

  lower abdomen. Does your girl have that?” Rose’s tone

  was nearly defiant.

  “I am not sure, Mrs. Howard. The body was just

  taken to the medical examiner’s office. The autopsy will

  take place later today or tomorrow. I’m afraid I don’t

  have many details, but it would be advisable for

  someone to travel over there and identify the body.”

  Mike broke into the conversation. “I can leave

  tonight if I can find an available flight, or tomorrow

  morning at the latest.”

  The detective nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Howard. I

  will arrange for someone to pick you up at the airport as

  soon as we have the details of your flight.”

  As the detectives walked toward the front door, they

  didn’t see the small girl sitting on one of the stairs, and

  nobody heard her when she whispered. “I knew you

  were right, Lily. Mom should have listened.”

  #

  The chicken

  cacciatora simmering on the stove sent

  out a heavenly aroma, and Kathy inhaled deeply while

  she poured a glass of wine. Tom had called while she

  was in the shower; she was a little disappointed when

  she listened to the message he left and heard that he

  would be late for dinner. She had moved forward with

  dinner preparations anyway, knowing that, after a

  horrific day on the job, a good dinner was the best

  healing tonic for him; even if he got home late, all of

  Tom’s worries would disappear the moment he tasted

  the succulent bird. Unlike Tom’s ex-wife, Kathy didn’t

  usually mind his working hours; in fact, she treasured

  having some time alone, and she figured that the daily

  separations only made every moment they spent

  together feel more special. Tonight she felt differently,

  however, and craved human companionship. She hoped

  that Caroline would call as promised, but knowing her

  daughter and being familiar with her spontaneous—and

  sometimes slightly erratic—ways, Kathy wasn’t holding

  her breath. Caroline was a lovely young lady, but it was

  typical for her to overlap her plans and forget things;

  Kathy was so accustomed to this side of her that she no

  longer took her missed phone calls personally.

  She took the chicken off the burner and brought her

  glass of wine to the living room. When she turned the

  TV on, the channel was set on News 14, so she left it on

  and almost absently listened to the weather forecast.

  Intense heat for the next several days…Kathy had a

  feeling this summer would be a long one. The next

  segment was about the woman found at Durant Park, so

  she turned up the volume and listened carefully.

  According to the reporter, the police were not releasing

  much information pending a criminal investigation;

  there was speculation that the woman had been attacked

  by a stranger while she was jogging, so women were

  warned against walking alone, especially after dusk. The

  footag
e showed the entrance to the park on Perry Creek

  Road, and yellow tape could be seen in the distance.

  Several law enforcement officers were moving around

  the area, but they were too far away for Kathy to

  determine if Tom was among them. The next segment

  was about rebels making headway in Libya, and Kathy

  decided to turn off the set—not because she didn’t care

  about the people of Libya, but simply because she had

  heard enough bad news today, and needed to clear her

  head instead.

  She picked up a novel from Lillian Jackson Brown’s

  series and tried to focus on the adventures of Koko, an

  extremely intelligent Siamese cat who helped his

  human, James Quilleran, solve several mysteries. This

  series was one of Kathy’s favorites, even if she didn’t

  own a cat and was more of a dog person. She quickly

  became so absorbed in the story that she felt she could

  almost reach out and touch Koko’s silky fur. When she

  heard a loud noise in the hallway she jumped and looked

  around, unsure whether she had really heard it, or if her

  mind had made it up as a consequence of being so

  absorbed in a mystery novel. She decided to go check

  anyway, and put her wine glass down on the coffee table

  next to the book. As she turned the corner, she saw her

  personal camera on the floor and instantly panicked.

  How could it have fallen? She picked it up and

  examined every part of it; to her relief, it appeared to

  have suffered no damage. She took a few photos around

  the house to make sure the camera still worked and,

  satisfied that it wasn’t broken, she placed it gently on

  the table near the door and headed back to the living

  room to continue reading.

  Tom walked in a few minutes later. “Hey,

  Sweetheart! I’m home!”

  Kathy put the book down and met Tom in the

  hallway where she kissed him, wrapping her arms

  around his waist in a welcoming hug. “I hope you are

  hungry. Some chicken cacciatora is waiting for you in

  the kitchen.”

  “Mmm-mmm…my favorite. You definitely know

  how to turn a bad day into a great evening.”

  Kathy smiled. “I have wine, too. Chilled Pinot

  Grigio.”

  Tom looked up toward the ceiling and brought his

  hands together as he smiled. “Thank you God, for

  giving me a woman who understands me and knows

  how to cook chicken cacciatora. And if the blessings

  weren’t enough, she can also pick a good wine.”