Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Another installment – I hope you enjoy it :) Thank you to Mel for the beta :)
Pleasurewood Pines – Chapter 5
"Amy," The Captain flipped the latch to secure the front door, before turning to follow Detective Sykes into the kitchen. "What's going on?" She asked, appearing eager to hear the particulars. "What happened to Roberta?"
Detective Sykes took in her surroundings as she clipped her badge back onto her belt.
Having agreed to take the night shift in the van, she hadn't actually been inside the villa before now; it was much roomier than it appeared on the surveillance cameras.
When she turned to face her superior, she faltered slightly; seeing the usually impeccably-dressed Captain standing there in her pyjama's, hair slept on without a scrap of make-up on her face – it made the younger detective pause for a beat. Raydor looked softer than usual to Amy – more personable...Well...apart from the gun in her hand...
"What's going on?" Before the detective found her voice, a door at the end of the corridor opened and a dishevelled Provenza exited his bedroom. The lieutenant careened down the hallway towards his colleagues – and upon seeing Sykes, he pulled his robe tightly around himself – securing it in place with the cord. "Why's she here?"
Although wearing pyjama's had softened her Captain – to Amy - Provenza looked grumpier than ever. Still, she was thankful that he'd secured his robe – even if she was confused as to why he thought she would want to look in the first place...
"It's good to see you too, Lieutenant," Sykes responded sarcastically. "Retirement looks good on you,"
"Now, just you wait a..." Provenza started to voice a characteristically crotchety retort, however in his haste - he failed to see the envelope and it's contents, strewn across the hall floor.
"What the..?" He stumbled over them – managing to correct himself just before he reached Sharon's side. "What the hell's all that crap on the floor?" When he looked at the Captain, his frown deepened. "And why the hell do you have your gun?"
"One question at a time, Lieutenant please." Sharon said with a sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose under her glasses. "Detective Sykes was about to explain..."
"Right," Sykes straightened her spine before providing the Captain with the situation report – remnants of her time spent in the military. "Roberta Swallow was found dead by a member of the community's security team about an hour ago, Captain..."
"Roberta's dead?" Provenza interrupted, playing catch-up. "Murdered?"
"Hard to say, Sir," Sykes placed her hands on her hips. "Roberta was found on the floor – and there was a lot of blood coming from a wound on her head..."
"Is Lieutenant Tao on the scene?" Sharon asked.
"Yes, Captain,"
"What is his observation?"
"Splatter trajectory seems to indicate that she hit her head on the tiled floor, Captain."
"Doesn't mean she wasn't murdered," Provenza added. "Do we have an approximate time of death? I saw Roberta just this afternoon looking through her window..."
"Not yet," Amy shook her head. "Kendall and his team have only just arrived, so we should know more soon."
"Okay," The Captain placed her gun on the kitchen counter and began to pace the floor, as she so often did in the murder room when formulating a plan . "Based on the previous murders, we won't know for sure if Roberta is another victim until we get a toxicology report - but let's treat it as suspicious until we know more." She stopped by the couch and folded her arms over her chest. "Amy, you said that it was a member of the security team that found Roberta?"
"Yes," the detective pulled a notepad from her trouser back-pocket. "An Anthony Webber..."
"You spoke with Mr Webber?" Sharon asked and Amy responded with a nod. "Was there a disturbance? Or something that alerted him to check in on Roberta?"
"He said..." Sykes referred to her notes. "He said that he was conducting a scheduled walk around the site...and he noticed Roberta's lights were out."
"Figuratively or literally?" Provenza asked as he moved to sit heavily on a stool by the kitchen counter and rubbed his eyes.
"Roberta always slept with the lights on, Sir,"
"Of course she did," the Lieutenant grumbled. "The old bird saw dead people; I'd sure as hell sleep with the lights on too..."
"She saw what, now?" Amy asked – sure she had misheard.
"That's awfully attentive of them," Sharon swiftly moved the conversation on.
"That's what I thought," Amy offered an explanation. "Apparently somebody always went to check on Roberta at night, if the power went out. She was terrified of the dark...I'm sorry," she turned her attention back to the Lieutenant. "Did you just say that Roberta saw dead people?"
"Why?" Sharon stopped pacing – her attention focussed on Amy. "Is that relevant?"
"Well, not particularly - but there was something odd..." Amy pulled her cellphone out of her other pocket and walked towards the Captain. "As Mike said, the blood trajectory was consistent with her having hit her head in a fall – however this was written in the blood next to her body..." She handed the Captain her phone with an image on the screen. "What does that look like to you?"
"Is that the number 2? Or..." Sharon tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.
Provenza moved to peer over the Captain's shoulder. "It looks more like a backwards 'S'..." he looked up at Sykes. "Roberta wrote this?"
"If you swipe on to the next photo," Amy signalled with her hand and the Captain complied. "You'll see that based on where she is laying, if Robert drew it..."
"...she had to have moved afterwards." The Captain finished Amy's sentence.
Detective Sykes nodded. "She must have rolled onto her arm..."
"How could she have rolled on to her arm from writing at that angle?" Provenza twisted his body and pulled his arm towards his chest in demonstration. "She would have had to draw her arm under her body – not roll on to it."
"That would have taken some effort..." Sharon mused.
"Why the hell would she use her dying breath to do that?" Provenza asked, frustrated. "She could have at least finished the message..."
Sharon swiped back to the first image, her expression contemplative. "Unless this is the finished message?"
The three were silent for a beat as they considered the scrawl – eventually the Captain spoke.
"All right...Amy - please have Dr Morales prioritise the tox screen - and request Roberta's medical records from the facility; I want the medication our victim was supposed to be taking, cross referenced with her tox results."
"Yes, Captain."
"I also want you to check Roberta's hands," Sharon handed the cellphone back to the detective. "If Roberta did write this, her fingers of her right hand will be coated in blood."
"Of course," Sykes nodded and made to leave.
"Oh, and Amy?"
"Captain?" the detective paused with her hand on the door handle, to see her superior looking down the hallway, towards the bedrooms.
"Could you also return to the surveillance van and pull all footage of the living area and corridor from the last hour," she turned back to face Amy. "...And bring it to me?"
"Why?" Provenza asked, incredulously – then when he looked at Sharon's gun on the counter, he got back on to his feet. "Wait, did something happen in here? Is that why you had your gun?"
"I'm not entirely sure – but I do know that I didn't do this," Sharon waived her arm in the direction of the items scattered across the hallway floor. "Did you, Lieutenant?"
xXx
Roberta's villa was quiet now; the chaos fading just as the sun rose over the hills. A crumpled flowerbed was the only evidence that the police had been there at all.
'That'll give Andy something to do,' Sharon mused.
Both he and Julio would be arriving at the facility any minute for 'gardening duty' - and she had to admit, she missed him last night. Even though they hadn't officially moved in together yet, more often than not - Andy spent the night at her apartment. It started with his health-scare, then because her place was nearer to the office - and they kept unpredictable hours – he'd stay over...after that...they just kind of fell into the routine. It took Sharon removing herself from the situation, to make her realise how unusual it felt to spend the night apart.
The Captain looked at Roberta's villa from her porch, sipping a coffee – the mug wrapped in both of her hands as she savoured the bitter taste.
The standard practise of crossing the front door with yellow crime scene tape and placing a uniformed officer on the porch, really wasn't an option here. The Captain knew that their best chance of closing the case, was if the murderer didn't know that the police were on to them.
With confidence comes sloppiness – and at the rate the killer was going – something had to give.
"Oh Ellen, dear!" Sharon's musings were interrupted by the sound of her fake-husband calling from inside the house.
She walked back towards the door to find Provenza holding the house phone to his chest.
"It's Fenella, she wants to know if she and the girls can pop over for tea?" Provenza's irritated expression defied the joviality in his tone.
'Girls?' Sharon mouthed; she had wondered when the vultures would begin to swoop in, searching for titbits of gossip about Roberta. "Of course," she answered with false enthusiasm. "I'll pop the kettle on."
xXx
"Here come the 'Golden Girls'." Provenza stepped back from the window and repositioned the blind. "I'm going to go and see Kenneth and Kenny in the office..."
"You're leaving me?" Sharon asked, her eyes wide; she was fully aware of how pitiful she sounded.
"I'm going to find out more about that committee Fenella told us about yesterday," he grabbed his sun hat off of the counter - the one possession he refused to give up. "I'm sure a Captain of your calibre can handle three old ladies."
Sharon made a whimpering noise and contemplated pulling rank, as Provenza greeted their guests at the door.
"Good Morning, Bob." Fenella said enthusiastically.
"Ladies, it's nice to meet you – but I'm afraid you just caught me on my way out." Provenza skilfully edged his way past Fenella and two other ladies; both scuttling behind her, like groupies would a band.
"That's a shame," Fenella said. "We'll see you tonight though?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Provenza waved his arm in the air as he hurried away.
"Good Morning, Fenella." Sharon painted on a smile and moved across the room towards her guests. "How are you?"
"Well, I'm just fine, thank you," the blonde smoothed her hands over her hair, then puffed it up in a single motion. "But did you hear about poor Roberta? Terrible news..."
"I know - and you were just telling us about her yesterday," Sharon nodded glumly. "So terrible."
"I hear that the police were here," Fenella spoke in hushed tones, as her companions stood behind, twitching for an introduction.
"Yes, that's right," Sharon shared a glance with the smaller of the two other ladies and smiled politely. "They said she fell - I think they were just ruling out false play."
"Right," Fenella said, not sounding trerribly convinced. As a playwright, the blonde had a nose for drama - Sharon only hoped that she'd never written anything crime related.
One of the other ladies cleared her throat - which seemed enough to draw Fenella from her thoughts.
"Oh," the blonde stepped to the side to allow the other ladies to escape the entrance way. " I almost forgot - this is Sandra Ellis from number 12; Georgia born and bread and life and soul of any party,"
Sandra couldn't be more than 5 feet tall; her mane of fiery red hair certainly gave her a presence – and temporarily distracted Sharon from the 'Joan Rivers-esq' plastic surgery the woman's face had endured. The Captain outstretched her hand to greet her guest. "It's nice to meet you, Sandra."
"Charmed," Sandra limply shook Sharon's hand as she slinked past, moving further into the villa. "Love what you've done with the place," she said as she wondered the living area – and Sharon believed her words to be genuine; one thing was clear - Sandra and Ellen Moreau both had flamboyant tastes.
"And this is Mavis Campbell from number 29 - her husband was a surgeon – he passed earlier this year..."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Sharon recognised the surname and concluded that Mavis was the widow of their second victim John Campbell.
"Don't worry, dear." Mavis, probably the oldest of the three ladies (although with Sandra it was difficult to tell) patted Sharon's hand – before chastising Fenella. "What a way to introduce someone," she muttered as she passed the playwright and moved to take as seat on the couch. "Sandra's the life and soul of the party - and I have a dead husband."
Fenella rolled her eyes and followed the older woman to the couch – and Sharon tried to stifle a smile.
It appeared they weren't Fenella's groupies after all.
"Well, it's lovely to meet you both." Sharon concluded. "Who wants tea?"
After her ears were graced with a chorus of 'please', Sharon made her way to the kitchen – just as the doorbell rang.
Sharon, who was already on edge, felt her heart skip a beat.
"I'll get it," Sandra, the only guest still on her feet, swiftly made her way to open the door – with the Captain following closely behind; odds were that the knock on the door was 'police' related.
"Good Morning ma'am, I hear you'd like your garden tending to..." Sharon heard Andy's voice before she saw him."Oh, um sorry..."
"Well, hello there handsome..." Sandra leant against the door frame.
"Sorry, Ma'am," Andy flushed crimson. "Is um, is Mrs Moreau here?"
"I'm here!" Sharon called out – rushing to the door – almost as red faced as Andy. "Can I help you?" She asked, tight lipped - as she took in the sight before her.
Andy 'the Gardner' stood on her porch, looking like a rabbit in the headlights. He had donned khaki waders, that were attached to suspenders – and if Sharon weren't so embarrassed by his double-entendre – she might have commented that he looked like he was going fishing, rather than landscaping.
'Why didn't he just wait until door was fully open before he started speaking?'
"I'm sorry ma'am," Andy recovered. "The man on the front desk said that you needed your garden tending to?"
"Oh, right," Sharon spluttered. "Well, as you can see I have company at the moment – can I find you later?"
"Uh, sure," Andy pulled something from his pocket. "Oh and the um, the guy on the front desk, he also asked me to give you this," he handed the Captain a USB stick – which she surmised was the surveillance footage from last night. "I'll be working the ground out by the entrance, so just um just holler when you need me," he made to leave. "Ladies," he said with a nod and a smile, before he turned and stepped off the porch.
Sharon moved to shut the door, but realised that now all three ladies were standing around her in the door way, peering over her
shoulders.
"Well, he sure is an improvement on the last gardener." Mavis said as she craned her neck to watch him walking away.
"Sure is," Sandra fanned herself and turned back into the room. "He can tend my bush any time."
"Sandra!" Mavis gasped. "You're so uncouth."
"Honey, you wouldn't want me any other way."
The two ladies chatted and moved back into the living room to take a seat on the couch, but Sharon still felt Fenella's scrutinous gaze upon her. When she looked in her direction, the playwright quickly diverted her eyes.
As Sharon busied herself with making tea, she silently hoped that she and Andy's odd behaviour, hadn't raised Fenella's suspicions too much; with her links to the community – maintaining close relations with the woman was a must for their case.
If Roberta really was the fifth victim, time was of the essence. Their killer wasn't slowing down, so neither could they.
TBC
What? No Cliff hanger...that's very unlike me!
Oh, and for my fellow Brits - when I say Andy is wearing suspenders - I mean braces - not suspenders of the 'Frank 'n' Furter variety lol!
Comments/Reviews are always welcome and a great motivator :)
Thanks for reading!