A Novel Murder Read online

  She wanted to respond with an immediate ‘yes’ but spending her entire workday with him was enough to test her willpower. Instead, she shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m beat. Rain check?”

  “Sure.” His shoulders sagged with apparent disappointment. “I guess I’ll just head home and catch some zzzzs. See you tomorrow.”

  Slinging his jacket over his shoulder, he sauntered out the open double doors.

  Michelle’s tongue darted across her lips. She’d been without a man in her bed for so long, the way his slacks hugged his firm buttocks and draped down his muscular thighs made her tingle in places she’d forgotten. As soon as she wrote her number one ranking novel, resigned from the force and was no longer restrained by the non-fraternization rule, Tony had better watch out. Until then, writing and work didn’t leave time for dating let alone the opportunity to develop a relationship. Still, she missed having someone in her life.

  With Tony gone, she pulled her gaze from the door and gathered her thoughts. She had a crime to solve and a ton of paperwork to do. Her mouth gaped into a yawn. Tomorrow haunted her already. She opened her bottom drawer, shouldered her purse and gave the detective at the next desk a parting nod.

  Chapter Two

  Michelle opened the front door to the sound of her home phone ringing. She tossed her purse on the sofa and picked up the wireless handset. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Shell, it’s Naomi. I almost hung up, figured you weren‘t home.”

  “I just walked in. What’s up?”

  “Nothing special, just thought you might like to get together for a bit. I’ll bring the wine.”

  “Sounds good. Give me about an hour to shower and change.”

  “You got it. See you soon.”

  Shell smiled as she placed the phone back in its charger. Despite being as different as night and day she and Nay, as she called her, had been best friends since their sophomore year in high school. Michelle, cocoa-colored hair, slender, and brown-eyed stood a good head taller than her light brunette gal pal. Naomi had curves, but her stocky build always led to her complaints about watching what she ate. Where Nay was laid back and patient, Michelle moved like a speeding bullet and had a short fuse. She’d learned to control her temper on the job, despite the stupidity of most people, and she had bite marks on her tongue to prove it. A night with a friend was just what she needed…especially since she’d turned down Tony’s invitation.

  In the bedroom, she grabbed a pair of jeans, her well-worn Philadelphia Eagle tee and some clean underwear before heading for the adjoining bathroom. While she waited for the shower to warm, her mind strayed to the ashen face of Cara Austin. Again, Michelle puzzled over why she was cursed with seeing someone killed while hints of the perpetrator evaded her. Why were her visions so sporadic? First the gunshot murder and now this second grisly scene of the Austin murder. Though she’d ignored all the earlier and questionable minor instances of shoplifting and burglary, no way could she disregard a life lost. Still, with no clues to pursue, speaking up would only affirm she was as crazy as the visions made her feel. If ever anyone needed an on-off switch, she did.

  Showered and awaiting her friend, she took two wine glasses from the cabinet. The idea of a good white Zinfandel and relaxing with someone who knew all her secrets made her smile. Naomi had no other family. She’d been an only child when her parent died in a car accident years ago. Nay was more like a sister than a friend, and only God and Nay knew the number of times Michelle kept her mouth shut until reporting calls came in and then not act surprised when dispatch assigned calls for the very crimes she’d witnessed in her mind. If she couldn’t use her friend as a sounding board, Michelle would probably be in a nut house. With that thought, tension stiffened her shoulders, and she tightened her grip on the crystal stems.

  A knock on the door kept the delicate glass from crumbling. Michelle took a relaxing breath and crossed the room. The stress disappeared when she saw Naomi. “I don’t know if I’m happier to see you or the wine in that bag you’re carrying.”

  “Well, I’m not sure whether to be insulted or not.” Nay laughed. “Tough day, eh?”

  “You have no idea.” Michelle took the sack, removed two bottles of wine and tossed the brown paper in the trash before fishing in the drawer for the corkscrew. She paused before opening the first bottle. “Get comfortable, I have lots to tell you.”

  Naomi slipped off her tennis shoes, sat, and drew her legs up around her. “More visions?”

  Michelle balanced two rim-filled glasses taking care not to spill as she sat. She handed one goblet to Nay and took a large sip from her own. The fruity alcohol tingled down her throat. She crossed one long leg over the other, wiggling her bare toes. “Bad this time. I almost tipped my hand when I recognized the dead woman as the same one I saw being murdered.”

  Nay’s eyes widened. “Murdered? Not again!”

  “Yep…and I hope this is the last instance where I actually witness someone struggling to live. Of course, I’ve put up with dozens of other useless cinemas playing in my head, but nothing like this in a long time. The first was killed by gunshot. This one wasn’t.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember when that case was solved. The butler didn’t do it.” She giggled.

  Michelle cast a sobering stare at her friend. “Not funny. I’m still struggling with guilt from practically using the scene in my novel, especially when I thought I’d created the idea. I had no idea I foretold the future.” She uncrossed her legs, leaned forward, placed her glass on the coffee table, and then splayed her fingers through her hair. “I’m telling you, this whole vision crap is bizarre. Why the hell is this happening to me?”

  Her friend shook her head. “I don’t know, Shell. I’ve read about seers and people who claim they can tell the future, but I’ve never heard of anyone who sees only scenes through someone else’s eyes.” She hugged her knees and her gaze intensified. “That’s how it is with you, isn’t it? Like watching exactly what the…the…what do you call that person?”

  “In this case, murderer. And yes, that’s exactly what happens. I never see the ‘perpetrator’s’ face or much more than the immediate surroundings, but I instantly recognize the crime scenes when I’m sent there to investigate.”

  “So, how was this last one killed?” Nay rubbed her hands together like a child eager for the end of a fairy tale.

  “You know of course, I’m not supposed to be discussing the crime with you.”

  “But you can trust me. You already told the whole world when you wrote a novel about the first one, for Christ’s sake.”

  “No, I didn’t…not exactly anyhow. Fiction writers use creative license all the time to alter the facts a bit, and that’s what I did. I didn’t reveal the entire truth about how the woman died because I didn‘t know then. I had no idea what I wrote would really happen.” She leaned back and took a drink from her glass, savoring the flavor. “Oh, I love this stuff. I think I could easily become an alcoholic if these visions continue.”

  Naomi plopped her feet on the floor and placed one hand on her hip. “Don’t change the subject. Explain this creative license thing…and what embellishments?”

  Face toward the ceiling, Michelle lolled her head from side-to-side, lessening the day’s tension. “No one wants to read about shoplifters or petty thieves. I added a little spice to the gun-toting heroine by making her cases a little more exciting. You know…armed robbery, hostages…things like that?” She turned an intent stare to Naomi. “Besides, I had no way of knowing all the details when I wrote back then. I only mentioned a woman was shot, the killer in my book wasn’t her husband.”

  “Yes, but if I remember correctly, the details about her appearance in the newspaper matched those in your book exactly.”

  “Yeah, that was a big mistake, but everything was so fresh in my mind at the time. I had no idea her death was going to morph into a real case.”

  “Okay so your first novel described the first victim verbatim, along with the
way she died. Right? Or am I going to have to go home and read the book again?”

  Michelle jerked her shoulders back. “Stop intimating I knew about the case when I wrote the damn book! At least, I portrayed the murder differently from how that woman actually died.” She heaved a sigh. “Imagine how you’d feel if you walked in on a scene you practically described in writing months prior. ”

  “Pretty creepy, I’ll bet.”

  “That’s an understatement. I was one of the first on the scene today too, and believe me, I was totally shell-shocked when I viewed the latest vic. I sure as hell won’t be adding her description to any future characters.” Michelle ran her fingers through her hair again. “If anyone sees a connection to the first murder in my book, I could lose my job before I retire to write fulltime.” Relaxing against the sofa back, she managed a smile. “Of course, someone would have to find out my pen name and actually buy the book, and I don‘t see any of my co-workers as the reading type.”

  “Speaking of co-workers…how’s it going with your new partner?” A teasing sparkle glistened in Naomi’s eyes.

  “Tony? Hmm, he’s doing okay, but the man’s definitely got more looks than brains sometimes. I feel like I have to tell him to do the simplest things. It’s not like he’s new to the force, just the detective unit. Hell, he’s been a cop for over five years, he should know the basics and not depend on me to make all his decisions.”

  Nay fixed her with a stare. “Did it ever occur to you that you intimidate him? Maybe he’s afraid not to ask before he acts on his own. You aren’t the most patient person in the world. Maybe he feels that?”

  Acting as though she’d been taken aback, Michelle slapped her hand to her bosom. “Moi? Whatever do you mean?”

  “Maybe you should have a discussion with him. People always appreciate knowing what’s expected of them. I know I do, and I’m sure you feel the same.”

  Michelle clicked a long fingernail against her bottom teeth. “Maybe you’re right.” She extended her empty glass. “Your turn to serve, oh wise one.” She curled her legs alongside her body and propped an elbow on the sofa. Resting her chin in her palm, she sighed. “You know, I think you might be onto something. First thing tomorrow morning, I’m going to have a chat with Tony.”

  Nay stood and carried both glasses to the kitchen counter and refilled them, but took a sip from her own brimming goblet. She glanced at the wet spot dotting her blouse and smiled at Michelle before she moved, pumping her hands in rhythm to each step in a desperate measure not to spill.

  Passing Shell her glass, Naomi kept the conversation focused on Tony. “Let me know if my suggestion helps, would you? In fact, wouldn’t it be fun if we all got together sometime? I’m quite anxious to get a gander of this new partner of yours.” She circled around, took her former seat, her smile broadening as she leaned in. “I’d like to propose a toast.” She lifted her zinfandel high. “Here’s to a closer relationship between you and your hunky co-worker.”

  A myriad of thoughts flashed through Michelle’s mind. Close? Hadn’t she been trying to avoid any type of physical connection? Being partnered with Tony all day was torture enough—smelling his spicy aftershave, standing so near that his warm breath washed over her with each word he spoke…seeing the distinct sparkle in his eyes grow with each appraising glance he cast at her? Now Nay unknowingly proposed an end to all efforts of anti-fraternization.

  Michelle’s hand trembled as she hefted her glass. “I’d like to amend that toast a bit. How about we drink to Tony and me having a better understanding of one another.”

  “Here, here!” Naomi timed her drink to coincide with Michelle’s, then set her glass on the table and curled back into her comfortable position, studying her friend. “Yep, I thought so.”

  Michelle crooked her mouth to one side, bothered by the all-knowing tone in her friend’s voice. “Thought what?”

  “You really like Tony, don’t you?”

  Again, Michelle faked her ‘taken aback’ posture. “What are you talking about? Of course, I like him. He’s a nice guy. He just needs a little polishing in a few areas of his job.” She rested against the back of the couch, drank from her glass, and washed down the admission she really wanted to share.

  “Well, I think you’d like to polish a little more than his work ethics.” Nay, feet on the ground, leaned on her knees. “Admit it, Michelle. You can’t hide anything from me. You should know that by now. I can read you just as easily as I did your novel.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “You are so maddening.” She paused and twirled her empty glass by the crystal stem. “Okay, okay, I admit I’m attracted to him. He has such amazing sex appeal…and broad shoulders…and a butt to die for.”

  “That’s enough all ready! You’re making me horny, and Paul is away at a conference.”

  “About him. Is that man ever going to ask you to marry him for real?” Michelle never really liked Paul. He had little personality, and although he wasn’t bad looking, his chauvinistic attitude made him ugly. He and Nay had been ‘sort of engaged’ for three years, but the promised ring never materialized.

  “He has asked me.” Naomi insisted. “Don’t you remember how excited I was the night I called you?”

  Michelle grasped her friend’s left hand and fixed a stare on her empty ring finger. “Oh, I remember the excitement, but I don’t see the proof.”

  Nay snatched her hand back, hiding it beneath her other one. “Paul’s just been so busy he hasn’t had time to get the ring. He knows the kind I like, but he’s old fashioned and doesn’t want me there when he buys it.”

  Busy my ass! Michelle wanted to yell the words, but she forced an accepting nod and half smile. Paul might work for a medical supply company, but did they have conferences every weekend? She doubted it, and suspected the man was cheating on Nay, but she bit back her suspicions and smiled. “Then, I can’t wait to see the size of the diamond. I know you have expensive taste.”

  Naomi pulled her legs up and sat Indian style. “So tell me more about this latest murder case. Do you have any clues, know her name, or have any suspects? How exactly did she die?"

  Michelle shook her head. “Sorry, you’ve gotten all you’re getting. I’ve already breeched enough confidentiality for one night, trust or not. There are just some things I can’t talk about until they’ve been resolved."

  * * *

  Michelle rested her elbows on her squad room desk and nested her chin in her palms. A guilty sigh fluttered past her lips. As usual, she’d shared too much with Nay. Her redemption: Naomi would never betray any confidences. Even if somewhat gullible about Paul, she was as trustworthy as a faithful pooch. Besides, time spent with her best friend was better than paying a therapist.

  With her gaze focused on the empty chair across from her, Michelle pondered how to live up to last night’s toast…virtually a promise to improve her working relationship with Tony. She emphasized ‘working’ in her mind. If only she had more time to write, she might have a future with him. The only thing he seemed to lack—confidence, but perhaps that was her fault. Mentally, she rehearsed what she’d say when he arrived.

  Before long, he sauntered into the room, filling the air with spice, soap and feelings of disappointment because she couldn’t act on her instincts to foster something more than a partnership with him.

  “Mornin’ sunshine.” He hung his sport coat on the back of his chair.

  The crisp crease of his long white sleeves showed he sent his laundry out. No man could iron like that unless he was in the military.

  “Good morning.” She drew her gaze from the broadness of his shoulders and his handsome squared jaw and flashed her best business-like smile. “When you get settled, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

  His brow furrowed. “Sounds serious. Should I be worried?”

  She shook her head. “Oh, no, just a discussion between trainer and trainee.”

  “No time like the present.” He gestured to his chair. �
��Should I sit or…?”

  “I think I’d prefer a little more privacy.” Her gaze roamed the now buzzing room as people arrived for the day. “Let’s find a less populated place, the conference room maybe?”

  Tony followed her to the empty meeting room. When she opened the door, the full force of the air-conditioning raised goosebumps on her bare arms. She embraced herself against the chill. “God, it feels like a freezer in here, but we won’t stay long.”

  Despite her previous disclaimer, Tony’s worried look spoke volumes. Like a true gentleman, he waited until she sat before he took a seat next to her at the table. The silence grew awkward as she forgot her prepared speech and wrestled with how to start.

  “Ah…I’ve been giving some thought to a conversation I should have had with you when we first got our joint assignment.”

  He nibbled his bottom lip.

  “Would you please relax? You’re making me nervous. I already told you this is nothing serious.”

  Tony took a long breath, releasing the obvious tension in his shoulders. He cleared this throat. “Okay, so….”

  “I’ve been reminded I can be a bit intimidating at times, and I’m afraid I’ve come across that way to you.”

  “Who said that?”

  “It doesn’t matter because I know it’s true. I should have let you know my expectations up front, so I want to do that now. Better late than never, or so it’s said.”

  “What makes you think you’ve intimidated me?”

  “I’ve noticed your confidence level changes when we work together. When you interact with others here you handle yourself differently than when we are on a case.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m your training officer, so that makes me stand a little taller in rank, but we’re both detectives. I don’t expect you to ask me before you handle things you already know need to be addressed. I’m not your boss, per se, although at the end of your probation, my report will help determine if you meet the job requirements satisfactorily. So far, I think you’re an outstanding officer, but there’s no need to be quite so cautious about proceeding on your own.”