Catch her death, p.1
Catch Her Death, page 1
CATCH HER DEATH
A JAW-DROPPING AND ABSOLUTELY GRIPPING CRIME THRILLER
WENDY DRANFIELD
BOOKS BY WENDY DRANFIELD
Detective Madison Harper Series
Shadow Falls
Cry for Help
Little Girl Taken
Gone to Her Grave
Catch Her Death
The Birthday Party
Available in Audio
Detective Madison Harper Series
Shadow Falls (Available in the UK and the US)
Cry for Help (Available in the UK and the US)
Little Girl Taken (Available in the UK and the US)
Gone to Her Grave (Available in the UK and the US)
The Birthday Party (Available in the UK and the US)
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Hear More from Wendy
Books by Wendy Dranfield
A Letter from Wendy
Shadow Falls
Cry for Help
Little Girl Taken
Gone to Her Grave
The Birthday Party
Acknowledgments
For Kevin. Enjoy the trains.
PROLOGUE
THEN
With his mother’s melodic voice singing along to Christmas carols in the kitchen, the young boy glances up to peer outside his cozy living room window. The snow that has been falling for days is almost fully obscuring the glass, with the white peak of Grave Mountain just a blur in the distance. He smiles, because he wants it to keep snowing for as long as possible.
The boy turns, ignoring the cartoon on the TV to return to the sparkling Christmas tree. Sitting cross-legged, he concentrates on the amazing train set he unwrapped this morning. It was a gift from Santa, supposedly, but he knows it’s more likely from his daddy, who has had to leave them temporarily to rescue a car. His daddy has a tow truck that will help free it from the snow. It’s not the first time the police have asked for his daddy’s help in this kind of weather, and he promised he wouldn’t be gone long.
The toy train’s passenger cars hook together and glide smoothly along the wooden tracks as the family’s black cat sits watching from her seat on a piece of discarded gift wrap. The look on her face tells him she’s not as impressed with the train set as he is.
A scream, loud and shrill, bursts from his mother in the kitchen. The boy jumps and watches as the cat vanishes, leaving the piece of gift wrap floating back down from the air. The sound is shocking. He’s never heard his mother scream before. Looking up, he watches his mommy tear into the living room, followed by a man with a black ski mask pulled over his face. Her apron is smeared with food stains, protecting the pretty red dress beneath.
“No! Please don’t!” she yells.
She’s silenced with a hard crack to her head from what looks like a hammer from their garage. The boy has his own set of tools, but they mustn’t be very good because his daddy never wants to use them for fixing things in his auto repair shop.
His mommy drops onto the floor next to him, blood leaking from her head. He knows it’s blood because he scraped his knee real bad one time at the playground near their house and his mom said he shouldn’t worry because he has enough blood in his body to be able to lose a little every now and then. Her eyes are wide open and staring straight at him, and she’s making funny gurgling noises. Her teeth are red now, and she’s lost one of her snowman earrings. She slowly reaches for his hand. “Not my baby. Please.”
He’s confused. He’s not a baby anymore; he’s four years old! Her eyes squeeze shut just as the man strikes her head again and the boy feels a warm spray on his face. His mother doesn’t open her eyes this time, and after a gentle squeeze, her hand goes limp on top of his.
The boy looks up at the stranger just as he turns and walks away. Without saying a word, the man leaves through the kitchen, slamming the back door shut behind him. He’s gone.
Using his sweater, the boy wipes the blood off the passenger car he’s holding before placing it back on the tracks so that he can shake his mother’s shoulder. She makes a slight groaning sound, but she doesn’t wake up. She must be tired. He knows she’ll be okay, though, because he was when he scraped his knee. His throat is dry, so he goes to the dinner table to find his juice carton. With shaky hands he takes a sip before returning to his mother. While she sleeps, he goes back to pushing his new train along the tracks, gently moving her hand out of the way to avoid a crash.
The blood from her head is spreading closer to his train set, so he fetches a blanket from the couch and places it on top of the warm, sticky liquid to act as a barrier. He doesn’t want Daddy to think he doesn’t care about his new gift. Because this is the best Christmas present he’s ever been given, and he can’t wait until Daddy gets home to play with him.
CHAPTER ONE
NOW
Julie Reid needs to finish her gift shopping, and fast, because it’s the night before Christmas Eve and the mall closes at eight. But with the baby screaming and her legs aching from having already spent three hours browsing the stores, she can’t muster enough enthusiasm to go into any more after this one.
The bright, twinkling fairy lights reflect off the many mirrors in the jewelry store, giving her a headache. And the same old festive songs playing on repeat for what seems like her entire life make her want to sit in a silent padded room by herself. She could do without the stares of the retail staff too, judging her harshly for letting her baby cry. But what can she do? Susie has been fed, she’s been changed and she doesn’t want to nap. Maybe she’s as sick of shopping as Julie is.
That decides it for her. Her mother-in-law can do without a gift this year. If the woman were less critical, it would be worth the effort to find something special, but Julie refuses to spend one more minute in this place for someone who doesn’t appreciate a goddam thing she does for her. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go home.”
The decision to quit causes the tension in her shoulders to ease and her step to quicken. She pushes the baby’s stroller, which is weighed down with bags and gift-wrapped boxes, through to the exit that will take her to the parking lot. The cold air slaps her in the face as the electronic doors open, but it’s refreshing compared to the stuffiness inside.
There are at least three inches of snow already on the ground, and the soft white snowflakes appear to be falling faster and heavier as the evening advances. Julie doesn’t stop to zip up her jacket; instead she heads straight to her car, which is parked over in the far corner. It was the only spot left when she arrived earlier. As she approaches it, she realizes the overhead security light in this corner of the lot has been smashed. Glass shards lie on top of the snow, and the few remaining cars sit in the shadow of darkness. Was it like that when she arrived? If it was, she didn’t notice. Turning around, she sees that the parking lot is almost empty now. Only a few other people have stayed to shop this near to closing time.
She hurriedly opens her trunk and loads the gifts inside. Then, after another quick glance around, she lifts Susie out of the stroller and walks to the front passenger side to open the door. With no vehicle parked next to them on this side, she has room to open it wide. She has to lean in in order to place Susie into the car seat. A chill goes through her as she rushes to secure the clasps, because she’s imagining someone creeping up behind her while she’s distracted. Once her daughter is safely strapped in, Julie stands up straight and pulls her cell phone out of her purse. Using the flashlight, she waves it around to see if anyone is hiding in the bushes at the edge of the lot.
She can’t see or hear anyone, but the feeling of unease won’t leave her. She checks on Susie, who is smiling up at her, waving her arms excitedly. Finally she’s stopped crying. She loves being in the car, and Julie and her husband have spent long nights driving around town in the dark to settle her. Julie can’t help but smile back and lean in to rub her rosy cheek. “Let’s get home to Daddy, shall we?”
After closing the passenger door, she wrestles with the clasps on the stroller, trying to get it to collapse flat. That’s when she hears a strange muffled noise close by. Standing bolt upright, she looks around. There’s just one other person in sight: a woman on the other side of the lot, who’s getting into her car. Julie watches as she drives away, and finds herself overcome with envy that the woman is on her way home already. She’s safe.
The sound repeats itself, and this time she can tell it’s a child’s cry.
She swallows as the hairs on her arms and neck stand up. Something’s wrong. “Hello?” she says to the darkness. She really doesn’t want a reply, and considers dumping the stroller on the ground, jumping into her car and getting the hell out of here as fast as possible. But the stroller was expensive, and before she can make a decision, she hears the child again.
“Momma?”
It’s coming from the car on the other side of hers. It’s in complete darkness, but she sees movement in the back seat. The first thought that runs through her is that this is some kind of trap. After all, using a child’s cry to lure a lone woman to her death isn’t unheard of. She isn’t stupid, she watches the news. But what if she’s being paranoid and this child is real and in need of her help?
Julie looks around her again. She can’t see anyone else in the darkness, and the car is parked next to her driver’s side, so she has to squeeze between the two vehicles anyway in order to get out of here. She drops the stroller and slides between the cars, keys in one hand, cell phone in the other. Leaning forward, she peers hesitantly through the back window. Her cell phone’s flashlight illuminates a little boy strapped to a child seat, no more than three or four years old. He appears to be unharmed and is sucking his thumb, with big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He winces at the bright light and says, “Momma” again, but it’s not a question this time. It’s a statement.
Julie swallows hard as he points to the front seat. She slowly cranes her neck and moves the flashlight to peer in through the front passenger window. An involuntary scream bursts up through her throat and out of her mouth when her eyes lock onto those of a bloody and battered woman staring right back at her from the driver’s side.
She knows immediately that there’s no life in those eyes. Which means the poor little boy in the back seat has been sitting alone for Lord knows how long with the badly beaten body of his dead mother.
CHAPTER TWO
Detective Madison Harper shivers in the cold as she leaves the comforting warmth of her car to inspect the large downtown parking lot. Silent white snowflakes fall steadily, covering the patrol officers and their cruisers. The ground coverage is bright white, but the rest of the crime scene is otherwise shrouded in darkness. At almost nine o’clock, all the stores are closed, with just the Christmas lights in the shopping mall’s windows for illumination.
Her footsteps crunch through the snow as she approaches the Lexus, which is screened from prying eyes. Today was Madison’s last day working without a detective partner and she almost got off lightly, with no homicides or sexual assaults. That is, until this call-out on her way home. Her previous partner died last month, and rumor has it that his replacement starts tomorrow. Chief Mendes plays her cards close to her chest, so Madison doesn’t know who the successful candidate is. She’ll find out tomorrow morning, the same as everyone else.
She spots Officer Shelley Vickers nearby, wrestling with some portable lighting to help illuminate the crime scene. Shelley applied for the vacant detective role, but she’s been sworn to secrecy about whether she got the job. She’s in her early thirties and is a fine officer, but so is the other internal candidate, Sergeant Steve Tanner. Madison would be happy for either one of them to investigate alongside her, but she’s heard there were some external candidates too, so nothing’s guaranteed.
To her right, the ambulance crew is finishing up, but one of them—Jake Rubio—is hovering nearby. Shelley looks pissed and is avoiding eye contact with him, leaving Madison to wonder whether they finally went on a date and it didn’t live up to her high expectations. Shelley was well aware of Jake’s reputation as a womanizer, so she’s always resisted his advances until now.
Madison turns her attention to the Lexus, snaps on some latex gloves and crouches in the snow. The passenger door is already wide open. Although the victim is seated in the driver’s side, she’s slouched this way, as if straining to get away from her attacker. It looks like she didn’t even have time to put on her seatbelt or get her key into the ignition before she was ambushed. Her hands are bagged so that their forensic technician can take fingernail scrapings.
Madison would guess the victim is in her mid-late thirties. She’s dressed casually, in jeans and a formerly white T-shirt under a thick winter coat. Her eyes are open and staring right through Madison, who doesn’t recognize her, which isn’t as unusual as you would think for a small town like Lost Creek, Colorado. There are lots of people Madison doesn’t know, and some residents choose to work up in Prospect Springs, a large town north of here that has better job opportunities, so she’ll probably never cross paths with them. Madison doesn’t think she could do a two-hour commute every day, but that doesn’t seem to bother others.
The victim’s face and clothes are covered with blood from the injuries to her head. Her long brown hair is matted and a clump of skin hangs down to her right eyebrow. Thanks to the freezing temperatures—it’s twenty-five degrees tonight, and only getting colder—and possibly due to the time of her attack, she doesn’t smell of decay yet.
Madison sighs. This woman didn’t stand a chance. She wonders who’s waiting for her at home; who will be the one tasked with breaking the news to the rest of her friends and family. Looking around, she can see random blood spatter on the steering wheel, windshield and ceiling. The killer attacked the victim right here, out in the open, which means someone might have witnessed it. Madison turns her head as Shelley lights up the car from the outside. She notices a child’s car seat behind the passenger seat, along with a few toys scattered around and a bag containing some gift-wrapped boxes, presumably purchased tonight in the mall. One of them has spilled onto the back seat. Her heart sinks. This woman was a mother. These gifts will likely never be opened by the intended recipients. Her family will never experience a joyful Christmas again without first thinking about the murder of their loved one.
She stands to survey the parking lot. It doesn’t take long to notice the overhead light in this corner has been smashed. Shards of glass poke out from under fresh snow on the ground beneath. Hopefully whoever did it was caught on camera. A quick look around shows there are no surveillance cameras nearby, but she knows the mall must have at least one out front. Whether or not it would have caught anyone this far away remains to be seen.
A news truck pulls up beyond the yellow crime-scene tape, but it’s not Kate Flynn, her friend and local TV reporter. Kate’s been slow to react to breaking news stories these past few weeks. She’s struggling right now, and Madison was planning to visit her for coffee tonight on her way home from work. A couple of camera operators exit the truck as another car arrives. Madison watches as Gary Pelosi, a reporter for the Lost Creek Daily newspaper, gets out. Word is spreading fast.
