Gwen awoke in a tangle of covers, bathed in sweat. Captain Wright, a wicked snarl on his lips, had held his hand around her neck. The other hand held a knife that was inches from her heart, ready to slice into her flesh.
She had an eerie feeling about the captain running around as a free man. Nothing would surprise her about the evil man.
She glanced at the clock. Six ten p.m. She had slept four hours, and she still had plenty of time before she needed to be at The Dive. It would be nice to pamper herself with a nice hot bubble bath before getting ready for work. She got the water running full blast into the tub before padding to the kitchen to make herself a steaming cup of instant coffee. Placing the cup on the edge of the tub, she eased into the tub and laid her head back on her bath pillow. “Now this is living,” she said to herself. “The only thing better would be if CC was here to enjoy it with me.”
Amid thoughts of CC, she couldn’t help but process the facts of the investigation and analyze them. Gwen wondered what Wright was scheming right now and if Kathy’s friend, Linda, was justified in being apprehensive about her own safety. She hoped the Planton brothers would put their energies now into laying their sister to rest, instead of continuing the pursuit of her attacker. And where were the other two women? Was there a chance one or both of them were still alive?
Gwen’s coffee had gotten cold and her skin shriveled like a prune when she pulled the plug on the drain and toweled herself off. She decided on black jeans, a beige sweater and brown suede blazer. Her short curly hair was a tangled mess, and she did the best she could to get it to lie flat with a dab of hair gel.
Gwen arrived at The Dive at eight fifteen. CC was sitting at the bar tonight, as none of the regulars were playing pool. Reyna wasn’t here either and her usual place near the pool tables looked unusually bare without her massive presence.
Gwen nodded and sat three stools to the right of CC. Ben was on the phone, but nodded in acknowledgment and opened a bottle of light beer and set it in front of her while continuing his conversation. He wasn’t saying much, but he had a concerned look on his face and grunted from time to time, listening carefully to whatever the caller was telling him.
When he got off the phone five minutes later he said solemnly, “That was TJ. He was supposed to bring Reyna here tonight. Found her at home…she’s dead.”
“My God!” CC exclaimed. “A heart attack?” she asked, considering the woman’s bulk.
“Dunno yet. He called nine-one-one and they’d just arrived. Said she was lying near the doorway, her cart tipped on its side. She had a deep cut somewhere on her head spilling a lot of blood, but she may have hit her head against the wall or door frame.”
“I’m so sorry,” Gwen said, consoling Ben. “She’d been coming in frequently for quite some time, hadn’t she?”
“Gotta be six, seven years at least,” Ben said sadly. “She started coming in soon as her youngest moved out of the house. She was kinda our resident shrink…knew all the happenings of everyone, and let us all know if we needed to lend our support. Kinda like a second family here, you know?”
“I understand,” Gwen said solemnly.
“She always let me know if someone was getting out of line, too. I’ve eighty-sixed plenty of rowdy folk on her recommendation.”
“I’ll miss her, and I’ve known her only a few days,” CC said sadly. “We could take up a collection for her family…you know, help out with the funeral expenses.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Ben replied. “I know her kids are struggling with their babies and all. Didn’t seem like Reyna had much herself.”
The bar started filling up and people began reminiscing about Reyna. Even though everybody regarded her as a busybody probing into their personal business, there was a fondness in their voices that revealed she was well-regarded for her big heart and generous spirit. Ben described it best when he said, “She made you laugh regardless of how shitty your day was going.”
TJ stumbled into the bar a short time later, looking as though he’d lost his best friend. “Never found no dead person before, and I never wanna go through that again.”
“I’m so sorry,” CC told him when he pulled a barstool up next to her.
“Them cops that came after I called nine-one-one? They treated me like I done it. Gave me the third degree, they did.”
Ben put a bottle of beer in front of TJ and said, “It’s on the house, buddy.”
“I’ll take a shot of that Jack Daniels too, s’long as you’re buying.”
“That’s pretty much routine, isn’t it?” CC asked innocently. “You wouldn’t want them to let someone get away if they had actually committed a crime. Anyway, on TV the cops always talk to the people hanging around the victim.”
“I suppose so,” TJ agreed. “Just wishing they didn’t have to be so mean about it. I thought for sure I was gonna be arrested. Try explainin’ that to the missus…geez, I don’t even tell the wife I play taxi driver for some of the womenfolk.” He downed his shot of whiskey in one gulp and took a long swig of his beer.
“Any idea how she died?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know, man. There was that blood all over the carpet from a gash just above her eyebrows. Cops whisked me out of there quick like when they came in. Had to talk to them in the garage.”
“I mean, did it look like someone attacked her, or she just fell over like her heart stopped or something?” Ben probed.
“I just can’t say, Ben. I got kinda shook up seeing her lying there in the first place. Couldn’t even find my phone in my pocket, my hands were shaking so bad. Had to use her house phone to call nine-one-one.”
“No wonder the cops thought you’d killed her. You left fingerprints all over the damn place!” one of the other men at the bar chimed in.
TJ turned beet-red and said shakily, “You think?”
“No doubt about it,” the man kept razzing him. “They’ll probably call you back and give you the third degree. Oh man, that’s not going to be pleasant.”
TJ turned white as a sheet.
“Don’t listen to him,” Gwen said, getting off her barstool and reading a text message on her cell phone. “He’s just kidding you. I’m sure they wouldn’t have let you leave if they thought you were guilty of anything.”
“She’s right, TJ,” CC said soothingly. “Don’t worry.”
“Thanks. Sure hope you girls are right. Hey, Ben. You’d better pour me another shot.”
Gwen went into the ladies’ room, locking the door behind her. She dialed Brad’s number and asked, “What’s up?”
“Another one of The Dive’s patrons was found dead not long ago.”
“Yeah, we heard all about it—in fact, everyone’s talking about it at the bar. One of the men from here was supposed to pick her up. He’s the one who found her dead and he’s telling his story now.”
“Did he tell you she was stabbed?” Brad asked.
“No!” Gwen said with alarm. “He said she had a cut on her forehead. He figured she got it from hitting her head when she fell.”
“The first responders didn’t see it either until they were finally able to turn her over. She was heavyset, so it took some doing to get her on her stomach. Four stab wounds to her abdomen, then some shallow cuts to connect the dots to form a cross.”
“Similar to Carole,” Gwen replied miserably.
“Just about,” Brad agreed.
“Can we keep the crosses out of the press?” Gwen asked. “I don’t want to panic the public into thinking we’ve got a serial killer just yet.”
“Too late. One of the woman’s sons showed up before they moved the body. He was talking to that loudmouth from the Scarletsville News when I left. You know how quickly the press corps jumps when something like this hits the police scanners… like a cobra on its prey.”
“Did Doc Maynard say when he’d be doing the autopsy?” Gwen asked.
“Yep. Said I should tell you same time, same place,” Brad told her.
“All right. I won’t be staying too late if I’ve got to be at the morgue at six a.m. Hey, I won’t be able to clue CC in while I’m here. Give her a call later to bring her up to date, will you?”
“Sure. Catch you tomorrow at the office.”