Devotion

Chapter Seven

"I just can't believe this happened," Melissa Stohn sniffled as she wiped her eyes with a tissue. "Laurel was such a sweet girl. Who would want to kill her?"

"That's exactly what we're looking to find out," Myles tried to reassure her, though his tone might not have been as sympathetic as it needed to be. "How long did you know Miss Baxter?"

Melissa sniffed again as she wrung her hands together and wrinkling the tissue in the process. "No long. We only moved in together about four months ago… once the semester started, really."

"You two weren't close?" Bobby asked, his pen scribbling inside the small black notebook in his hand.

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Not really. Our arrangement was more of one of convenience. I couldn't afford an apartment on my own and Laurel didn't want to rely on her father's money. She was looking to make a name for herself. That's why she got that job at that… club." By the grimace that crossed her features, she didn't quite approve of her roommate's choice of employment.

"What club would this be?"

She shook her head and pulled her sweater tighter around her. "Some place on M Street. I can't remember the name."

"Have you been there?"

She nodded. "Once. It's not a dance club or anything. More of a bar with a dance show. No really my kind of place."

"A strip club?" Myles offered but she quickly shook that suggestion away.

"No. I may not have known Laurel all that well, but she would never take her clothes off for money."

"You're sure?" Bobby asked as he and Myles looked at each other with the same knowing expression. There was something in her tone that did not back up her conviction.

"Of course I'm sure," she snapped back unceremoniously. "She had a reputation to protect. Do you know what would have happened to her father if the public found out that she was dancing in a strip club to pay her way through school?" She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The girl was hiding something from them. Unfortunately, the more they pressed, the less she seemed to talk. "Though I'll admit, she had changed a lot since working there."

"Changed how?"

"She'd been keeping weird hours. Before, we would maybe see each other once; twice if out course load wasn't so heavy. But lately, it was like I didn't even have a roommate. The only evidence was a few dirty dishes in the sink and maybe a damp towel hanging in the bathroom."

"Is that it?" Myles tried to press. He didn't want to sound impatient, but whatever she was leaving out could just be the lead they were looking for. He released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when she shook her head.

"No. There's one more thing." She paused as she stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. She was back a moment later with a small white card in her hand. Swallowing thickly, she held it out for the blonde agent to take. Myles read it over before handing it to Bobby. "About a month and a half ago, she met this guy. She was so happy about it, but there was just something about him that didn't sit right with me. I think he might have been married."

"What makes you think that?" Bobby asked as he read the card. It was a note to Laurel from her supposed boyfriend and it was signed with only a single letter. 'K.'

"I don't know. She gave me the feeling that she was doing something that she wasn't supposed to." She lowered herself back onto the couch and tucked her hands between her knees. "I know it's just a feeling, but Laurel was always a by-the-book king of girl. As far as I knew, she never had a mark against her."

Bobby held up the card, his thumb resting just below the signature initial. "This guy she met, did she ever tell you his name?"

She shook her head. "I'm not even sure if I was supposed to know they were seeing each other. I sort of found out by accident."

Arching an eyebrow, Bobby glanced back at Myles. "Accident?" How was that even possible?

"I sort of saw them together in the park one day… believe it or not, not all that far from where she was found." Heat crept to her cheeks as she relayed the next bit of information. "Anyway, they weren't exactly being secretive about their… attraction to one another." And that was putting it as civil as she possibly could.

Myles shifted to the edge of his seat. "What did he look like?"

Her eyes were wide and watery as she looked toward him. "I never saw his face."

"Thanks again for doing this, Carl," Danni said as she lifted the yellow police tape and ducked underneath.

"Anything for you, sweetie." Sergeant Officer Carl Banks was an older man in his mid to late fifties, but if you asked him, he was still a young buck at heart. He was heavy-set, with a large stomach—he would happily admit—from eating one too many donuts. Danni wouldn't call him a liar, either. She'd seen how many he could pack away.

"How's Marge doing these days?" She smiled at his impressed reaction. They'd worked together only once when she was still with Metro, but there was no way she could forget this particular officer's jolly demeanor. In fact, if his hair was white and he had a beard, he would make a darn good Santa Clause.

He smiled as he thought about his wife. "She's good. Thinking about retiring."

"Will she be the only one?" She smiled up at him expectantly, remembering how the two of them had been planning to retire to someplace tropical.

He shrugged his large shoulders. "Maybe. But, what about you? Life seems to be treating you pretty good. How's that husband of yours?"

"Good." Her hand automatically went to her not-so-flat-anymore belly and her smile grew even wider as she thought of Bobby. "It's been a crazy year."

"But a good one, I'll bet." He smiled at her and hers widened even more as she nodded. "Good. Now, this is where the couple found her." He pointed to a large area of brush and Danni moved toward it. "The husband said that if the dog hadn't gotten his collar stuck around the brambles, they never would have known she was there."

"At least not so soon," she added out loud before she went to work.

She brushed aside a few jagged branches and examined the area closely. Her stomach churned at the sight of the now dried blood stain. So, that meant Miss Baxter's head hadn't been more than a foot away from where the tips of her shoes rested in the grass.

The thought made her even queasier.

Coming out in the open, she took a look around where the body had been found. A half-dozen foot prints now littered the scene, covering up any traces of Laurel's footprints or her attackers or even any possible drag marks.

Sighing, she crouched down and tried to remember the crime scene photos she'd looked at before meeting with Carl.

"What are you thinking?" Carl asked from just behind her.

Completely forgetting that he was standing there, she jumped with fright. Chuckling to herself, she got back to her feet. "Something isn't right. Let's say she was standing where I am now." She arranged herself so that her body was where Laurel Baxter would have been standing when she was killed. "And let's say you're the killer and you shoot me…" she trailed off as she looked behind her. The foliage was thick and there were no other spaces around it. "I'd be facing the wrong way."

"So, what does this mean?"

It could mean any number of things. Was the body moved? No. There wouldn't have been so much blood if it had. "I'm not sure. Did you notice anything… unusual when you came upon the body?"

He shook his head. "Not that I noticed, but I'm not exactly a homicide cop." So if there had been, would he even notice? He wasn't so sure. "Wait. There was something strange," he remembered after a minute. "There was a mark on her neck… a scratch maybe. It looked like something had been pulled from her neck."

"Like a necklace?" she asked as she fingered the fine silver chain hanging around her own neck. He nodded. "But you didn't find one anywhere nearby?" A frustrated sigh escaped her when he shook his head. Why did it feel like she was getting nowhere?

She brushed the hair out of her eyes as a breeze blew through the park. The sun peeked out from its hiding place behind some clouds and something glinted in the light. Heart hopeful, she stepped back into the brush and removed a cloth handkerchief from her jacket pocket. There, dangling from the lowest of branches, hung a silver chain, the charm attached to it glittering in the sunlight.