Prologue
Deep
Creek Lake, Maryland - September 6, 2004
“—and in other
news…On Friday, prosecutors wrapped up their side in the murder trial for
Oliver Cartwright in
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.—”
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.—”
While
the radio announcer read off the morning report, David O’Callaghan poured his first cup of coffee. He dumped one spoonful of
sugar into his oversized United States Marine Corps mug, a graduation gift from
an old girlfriend, bestowed to him upon completing officers training.
The
mug lasted longer than the girlfriend.
Shades of Murder by Lauren Carr |
Taking
his first sip of coffee, he gazed out the kitchen window of his parent’s cozy
lakeshore house to admire the leaves flapping on the birch trees lining the
shore. When he squinted his eyes, he could see a hint of gold on the tips of
the leaves.
Tomorrow
would be his day off to celebrate Labor Day. While everyone else was
celebrating it today proper, he would be trying to keep them from killing
themselves, or each other, around Deep Creek Lake.
The
radio continued with the news at the top of the seven o’clock hour.
“—Lawyers
for Cartwright will begin presenting their defense on Tuesday. Oliver
Cartwright has confessed to raping and killing six women in and around the
Pittsburgh area during the summer of 2003.”
Six?
David brought the mug to his lips for another sip.
I could have sworn Cartwright killed seven women. Where did I hear it was seven?
The
ring of the phone broke through the chirping of the birds in the birch trees.
David didn’t realize he was still half asleep until the hot drink splashed onto
the breast of his white shirt. Cursing, he slammed down the mug to send more
coffee spilling across the kitchen counter.
“Damn
it!” He grabbed the dishtowel to mop up the coffee from his shirt. The phone
was still calling out to him while he wiped off his silver police shield.
“Coming!”
He grabbed the phone and braced it against his ear with his shoulder while
wetting the dishtowel to continue the cleanup.
“Did
I wake you?” Hearing
the lilt of Archie Monday’s voice coming through the phone line transformed his morning into a good day. Forgetting about
the coffee, David stood up straight. “No. You’re up early.”
“I
wanted to catch you before you went to work. Robin wants to know if you’re
coming over for steaks on the grill after you get off.” That’s
a no-brainer.David
stepped into the half-bath off the kitchen to check his reflection in the
mirror. He ran his hand over his blond hair. She’s on the phone, you dummy. He
went back to dabbing at the coffee on his shirt.
“Are
you still there?” she asked him.
“Yeah.”
This
isn’t going to work. After tossing the dishtowel into the
sink, he proceeded to unbutton his shirt.
“Let
me think.” David slammed open the bedroom door in his search of a clean shirt.
“Thick juicy steaks hot off the grill at Spencer Manor with two of the
loveliest ladies on Deep Creek Lake, or hot dogs zapped in the microwave and a
can of beer? What do you think?”
The
sound of her laughter almost made him forget about his disgust over the dirty
shirt. “What time should we expect you?”
“I
get off at six.”
“Wonderful.
Bring your swim trunks. We’ll go jet skiing,” she said.
Which
means I’ll see you in your swimsuit.
David
paused in his search for a clean shirt
to imagine Robin Spencer’s stunning assistant in a bathing suit. It was something he had
been yearning for since meeting Archie
Monday. A
stern tone in her voice brought him back down to earth. “I should warn you.
Robin’s working on a plotline that involves Marine Special Forces. Be prepared
for an interrogation.”
Pushing the vision of Archie in a bikini from his mind, David shifted the phone from one ear to the other while shrugging out of his
shirt. “Ah, so she’s using me.”
“What
can I say?” Her tone was cool. “She’s a woman. We all use men.”
“Won’t
be the first time I’ve been used by a woman.” It sounded like she was about to
hang up when David stopped her. “What can I bring tonight?”
“Just
your handsome self.”
He
stopped her again. “Dad tells me that you’re a wine expert.”
He
could hear the laughter in her voice when she replied, “I wouldn’t say I was an
expert. Robin knows more about it than I do. But I’m learning. We’re working on
expanding the Spencer Inn’s wine list. So we’ve been doing a lot of wine tasting lately. This
week, we received a case from Burma. We’ll test it out tonight.”
“Now,
I’m intimidated. I was going to offer to bring the wine tonight.”
“You
can never miss with a good cabernet sauvignon.”
Making a mental note to stop by the wine shop
to pick up a good bottle of red wine—not the cheap stuff—You don’t serve the
cheap stuff to one of the world’s most famous mystery writers and her beautiful
assistant—David finished dressing for the second time that day. He strapped
on his utility belt with his gun, radio, baton, and cell phone.
Before
slipping on his mirrored sun glasses to block out the bright morning rays
reflecting off the water, David O’Callaghan paused to admire the platinum blond
streaks that the sun and lake water had added to his already light hair. With
his face and body bronzed after a summer of working and playing on the water,
he looked even blonder than usual.
After
taking a quick glance around the house to make sure everything was secured and
put away, he stepped outside onto the front porch and locked the door.
Leaving
an empty house was not part of his usual routine. His mother was always home
during the day, but today was different. His parents had left two days before for a vacation at the Grand
Canyon.
That was something else that was out of the ordinary. In
all of his twenty-four years, David didn’t recall his parents ever going away
together, anywhere, for anything. Police Chief Patrick O’Callaghan would travel to conferences or training, or his mother
would check in to the hospital when she’d get sick. Vacation?
Together? What brought that on? Maybe Robin knows.
“Hey,
kid!”
Author Lauren Carr |
Startled,
David dropped his keys in the driveway. Out on the road, Police Officer Art
Bogart laughed from the front seat of his cruiser. On his way to the station,
where he was acting as Spencer’s chief, he had pulled off the road to give
David a good-natured hassling.
Bogie
was the oldest, and most respected, member of Spencer’s small police force. With the size and condition of a body builder, he
had been challenged more than once by a cocky rookie, only to put the youngster
in his place by pinning him to a mat in less than thirty seconds. In contrast
to his size and strength, a heart of gold beat behind his silver shield.
“You
going to work or not? Your daddy’s away, so you decided to play around and be late?”
David
knelt down to pick up the keys. “I’m coming. I had to make sure everything was
locked up.”
“Well,
get your butt in gear, son!” Bogie called out to him from across the driver’s
compartment of his cruiser. “There was an accident last night. We have a car
that hit a deer on Spencer Lane, rolled, and landed in the lake.”
“Any
fatalities?”
“So far we have a six-point buck. Miracle if the driver
made it. No witnesses. A couple of runners found the car this morning.” He
waved his arm at him. “Get a move on! Two-point-three miles down Spencer Lane
toward Pelican Court. The divers should be there already.”
Bogie
hit the gas pedal so hard that the tires spit gravel when he pulled out to
speed down the road like he was trying to merge into rush hour traffic. On the
shores of Deep Creek Lake, among the Shenandoah Mountains, he was only dealing
with the rush minute.
David
climbed into his police cruiser to head in the opposite direction, along the
tree-lined shore road, to take him to the scene of the accident.
On
Labor Day, the seasonal residents along the lake were waking up to enjoy the
last breath of summer before closing up their vacation homes for winter.
Meanwhile, up at the top of the mountain overlooking the lake, behind the
scenes, the Spencer Inn was gearing up for snow season to start in eight weeks.
Thoughts
of Spencer Inn made David’s mind wonder to that of its owner, Robin Spencer, a
good family friend, which brought his mind back to that of Archie Monday.
The green-eyed blond had come to work for Robin Spencer while he was serving in Afghanistan. They had only met briefly after he
had returned from overseas, before going off to the police academy. Now that he was back home, he considered the
possibilities.
I
wonder if Archie Monday likes men in uniform. Robin’ll certainly put in a good word for me. David made a mental
note to call the restaurant manager at the Spencer Inn. He’ll know what wine
would impress Archie.
Bogie’s voice burst from his radio to jar David back to reality. “Change of plans, kid! Go to the Hathaway Estate on Pelican Court
instead. I’ll send Fletcher to take care of the car accident.”
David
snatched the mike from the radio.
“What’s at Hathaway’s estate?”
“They
got a DB, kid. Dead body.”
David flipped the switch for the lights and sirens
and pressed his foot on the gas pedal.
*
* * * *
Neal
Hathaway’s summer home was the only residence on Pelican Court, a secluded lane
that crossed a mountain stream to cut through some thick woods. A rarely used
entrance to the state park marked the other end of Pelican Court. Anyone not
curious enough to travel the lane would never notice the mansion hidden behind
the thick grove of trees.
The
owner and CEO of Hathaway Industries lived behind a brick wall and iron gates
with a brass “H” marking them. The estate’s driveway snaked down a landscaped
hill to the stone house that had one of the best views on the lake.
David
O’Callaghan had encountered more than his share of exposure to murder investigations. With his father being chief of police, and working with the military police in the Marines, he had been
called to more than one crime scene that involved a homicide.
Such
scenes had an atmosphere of somberness. Everyone, including the investigating
officers, would speak in soft tones with an air of respect for those who had
passed on. This,
however, was the first time that David had been called to the scene of a dead
body at a multi-millionaire’s estate.
During
the short time it took him to drive around the lake to the Hathaway Estate,
David tried to recall what he knew about Neal Hathaway. Self-made
millionaire. Always wanted to be an astronaut. Was also a science geek. When he
failed to become an astronaut, he used his talent for science and rocketry to
build what was now a Forbe’s Top 100 company. Hathaway Industries was one of
the government’s biggest contractors for launching and maintaining defense
satellites. They were also in the race to become the first to offer private flights into outer space.
Neal
Hathaway was indeed a real live rocket scientist. Other
than that, David was unsure about anything else. Guess I’m going to find out
now.
David
drove through the gates and pulled his cruiser around to a multi-car garage
with a black SUV parked in front of it. The lights and the sirens failed to
break up the fight taking place next to the vehicle.
Two
women were rolling on the ground with their hands in each other’s hair. Judging
from the disheveled condition of their clothes and the exhausted grunts they
uttered between their high-pitched curses, David surmised the fight had been
going on for a while.
With
a head full of curly platinum blond hair that looked like a mop, one of the
women appeared to be on the losing end of the fight. The shoulder strap of the
blonde’s white dress had been ripped off to expose her voluptuous breast. The
rest of her garment wasn’t in a much better condition. The side seam had been
ripped wide open to show a white girdle.
Even
though she was winning, the blond’s opponent wasn’t in much better shape.
During the course of the battle, her bright purple mini skirt had been pulled
all the way up her hips to reveal that her underwear consisted of a black thong.
Several
feet away, a woman dressed in a housekeeper’s uniform, was pleading for them to stop. When David brought his car to a stop,
she yelled over the siren in a thick European accent. “Help, please! They’re
going to kill each other.”
Turning
off the lights and siren, David threw open the car door. “Okay, that’s enough.
Break it up.”
Not
seeming to notice him, they continued wrestling with their fingers entwined in
each other’s hair.
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