AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I can’t believe we work with a murderer,” T.J. said faintly. “I just can’t. It’s too unbelievable. Jerks, yes. Just look at Bennett Trotter. Marci hated his guts.”
“So do we all.” Bennett Trotter was the resident slimeball. A twinge of memory made Jaine frown as she tried to nail it down. “The night we came up with the List… remember, Marci was telling us about Kellman grabbing her ass? Wasn’t it Bennett who had something to say about it?”
“I think so,” T.J. said, but doubtfully. “I don’t really remember.”
“I do,” said Luna. “Bennett said something about taking Kellman’s place if Marci was that hard up.”
“He’s a bottom feeder, but I can’t see him killing anyone,” T.J. said, shaking her head.
“The point is, we don’t know, so we have to assume everyone is guilty. When Sam finds out who has been making the calls, if whoever it is has an alibi, then we can relax. Until then, we’re on guard against everyone.” Jaine wanted to shake T.J.; she just couldn’t seem to grasp that they might be in danger, too. They probably weren’t; she hoped they weren’t. But the whole thing with the telephone call today took the crank calls to another level, and she was deeply uneasy. Part of her agreed with T.J.; the whole supposition was too fantastic, too unbelievable. She was simply letting her imagination run away with her. Another, more primal, part of her brain said that Marci was dead, murdered, and whoever killed her was still out there. That seemed even more unbelievable than the other, yet it was true.
She tried another tactic. “If Sam thinks we should be extra careful, that’s good enough for me. He knows a lot more about these things than we do.”
“That’s true,” T.J. said. “If he’s worried, we should do what he said.”
Jaine mentally rolled her eyes. After their first exposure to Sam, T.J., Luna, and even Shelley had all begun acting as if he were the Grand Pooh-Bah. Well, whatever worked; what mattered was that they were cautious.
They walked together into the building, then parted to go to their different departments. Mindful of Sam’s instructions, she called the phone company to arrange for Caller ID and all the other bells and whistles, including call forwarding. It occurred to her that it might come in handy to be able to transfer her incoming calls to, say, Sam’s house.
Sam called Detective Bernsen. “Roger, my gut tells me we have a bigger problem than we thought.”
“How’s that?”
“You know that Ms. Dean was one of the List Ladies, right?”
“Yeah, what about it, other than giving the reporters something to howl about?”
“Turns out all four of the ladies have been getting crank calls from the same guy. He asks them which one they are.”
“Which one?”
“Yeah. Have you read the List?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure. My wife has quoted parts of it to me, unfortunately.”
“The four women are identified only as A, B, C, and D. So this guy asks them which one they are, like it’s important to him. Today while they were at lunch, he called on T.J.’s cell phone and asked the usual question, then said Ms. Dean’s name. No threats or anything like that, just her name.”
“Huh,” said Roger, which meant he was thinking.
“T.J.’s cell phone is in her h
usband’s name, so most people would think he’s the one who carries it. This guy not only knew the number, he knew T.J. is the one with the phone.”
“So he’s either familiar with the ladies or he knows the husband.”
“Why would a husband give his wife’s cell phone number to another man?”
“Good point. Okay, the caller knows the ladies. Huh.”
“The odds are Marci Dean knew the killer. She opened her door and let him in, right?”
“Right. She had a peephole in the door. She could see whoever came knocking.”
“The crank caller disguises his voice, speaks only in a whisper.”
“Meaning they might recognize his voice if he spoke normally. You think the killer and the crank caller are the same guy?”
“Either that or it’s a big coincidence.”
