Her Final Watch (A Detective Blanchette Mystery Book 2) Read online

  Her Final Watch

  Marguerite Ashton

  © Marguerite Ashton 2017

  Marguerite Ashton has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  This edition published in 2017 by Endeavour Press Ltd.

  For more information about Endeavour Press, the UK's leading independent digital publisher, please visit www.endeavourpress.com

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 1

  December 10, 2015 4:13 p.m.

  Detective Ariel Weeks stabbed at the small block of ice until it split into several pieces across the counter. She tossed the jagged cubes into the glass and made her client a drink.

  In less than twenty-four hours, Ariel would no longer have to use the name Jasmine and keep men company to protect her cover. All she needed to do was make it through this last night, and she’d be allowed to be who she was; a mom just doing her job.

  After gathering evidence and recording all the data she had, it would be hard to detach. Towards the end, she’d learned things she’d wished weren’t true, leaving her stomach in tattered knots.

  Back at home, there were two reasons Ariel would never take on another undercover assignment.

  Click.

  Ariel ground her teeth as the door to Cabin D opened and closed. She could feel Mikey Surace, the mob boss’s son, staring at the backless white dress she wore at his request.

  The man who smiled at the sight of blood was standing behind her, breathing heavily.

  She turned and handed Mikey his drink. “Your gin and grapefruit.”

  Mikey took the drink and pulled Ariel down on the bed next to him. His hand, smooth like velvet, traced over her dark brown skin, along the length of her arm and rested on her thigh. “I had a shitty day.” He loosened his tie, removed his gun and put it on the ottoman.

  Ariel stole a glance at the weapon, thinking of ways to grab it before he did. Just in case. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “I had my talk with Pop. He wants me to get married and have kids so I can take over as head of the family soon. He wants our family to be seen as more law-abiding than the other three families.”

  “Nowadays, no one gets married to have a family. Would he accept a long engagement?”

  “No way. My old man still believes in marrying now, ask questions later.” Mikey took a sip of his drink and sat it down on the nightstand table. “My father asked my mother to marry him on her seventeenth birthday.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find a woman who’ll accept you for who you are, who won’t care about the lifestyle you lead, and who knows when not to ask questions about your business.”

  “You always say the right things. Why won’t you let me take care of you?” he asked, planting a kiss on Ariel’s full lips. “This is my third time asking you to be with me.”

  Ariel wanted to wipe off the lingering citrus taste from her mouth but didn’t out of fear. She had already been spotted by one of Surace’s men and couldn’t believe that she was still alive. Probably because Ariel, at any moment, could tell the boss things that the other person was doing, clearing herself from any suspicion and allowing her to keep her cover. Even that wasn’t a guarantee.

  Drops of rain peppered the window facing out at the bare branches of a willow tree. Wind hissed against the cabin.

  Ariel stared into Mikey’s almond-shaped eyes. The olive tint of his skin masked his fiery temper. Things were getting heavy and out of control for a first time U.C. like herself.

  She undid the strap on her stilettos and let them drop to the floor. “Because your ex-girlfriend is in charge of my money and I need every penny. I wanna make my money and maybe one day get out. It’s a dream of mine to stop escorting and waiting tables at the club.”

  “If you get with me, you won’t need money.” Mikey cupped Ariel’s chin and squeezed. “Why do you keep turning me down?”

  “I’m not turning you down.” She pulled out of his grip and rubbed her chin. “I don’t want to ruin my friendship with your ex. She’s my bestie and the only one I can trust in this business.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “You’re a dangerous man.”

  “I’m only dangerous to those who cross me.”

  Ariel wanted to ask Mikey if he’d kill her but decided against it. It was best to redirect the conversation and talk about what he enjoyed the most. Him. “What’s it like to kill someone?”

  Mikey pulled Ariel back on the bed and laid on top of her. “When I put my finger on the trigger, it’s like foreplay. With each pull of the trigger, that’s the build-up. Once my target is dead, I’m satisfied. For me, it’s a lot like sex.”

  “Has anyone told you you’re crazy?”

  “Yeah. They never lived to say it again.”

  Chapter 2

  December 11, 7:32 a.m.

  A bit chilly. Detective Lily Blanchette adjusted her red cowl neck sweater, zipped up her jacket, and swapped her loafers for the crime-scene Nikes she always carried in the car.

  She trotted down to the floating dock surrounded by the rip-rapped shoreline of Groeler Road Landing and scanned the water.

  Winter had set in, but it felt more like an early spring. A thin veil of fog drifted over the Rock River, obscuring the view of the water and the embankments. The cold water can’t be easy on the divers. At least there’s no ice on the river.

  The river was a popular fishing and boating area during the summer and one of the hottest routes for snowmobiling during the winter. Up river near town, sprawling Victorians and Craftsman-style homes built in the early 1900s lined the streets nearby with Neighborhood Watch signs posted on every third corner. Christmas decorations filled the front yards of the residents and brightened the windows of business owners.

  The biking trails that once served as a railroad for the Chicago and Northwestern trains now provided fitness buffs a way to push their exercise limits to the max if they so desired. The paths known as the Glacial River Trail led out of Fort toward Jefferson to the north and Janesville to the south, connecting up with the larger Ice Age Trail. On the outskirts of Fort Atkinson, the Janesville leg of the trail ducked beneath the new Highway 26 bypass bridge over the Rock River.

  The thunder of passing traffic on the bridge above Lily accented the bleak woodland landscape. To her left, small river cottages lined the opposite shore. At least there was some form of activity. That was a good thing in this remote area. That meant she had a good chance at finding a
witness.

  Across the river from the Groeler Road Landing, morning frost covered the guardrail that separated Blackhawk Island Road from a four-foot drop into the cold river. Birds chirped from the naked trees above.

  A small gathering of investigators and police officials clustered together by the rocks. The piercing blue eyes of Detective Evan York locked on Lily as he made quick strides in her direction, retrieving a small notepad from his coat pocket. He handed it to Lily. “We found a hundred dollar bill in the victim’s mouth. An envelope found next to the victim contained three hundred and fifty dollars.”

  Evan’s cologne caught Lily off guard. Even though it was a scent she’d enjoyed on him, her stomach swirled. She swallowed hard, willing the nausea away. She noted the dark jeans that matched the color of Evan’s tamed hair. “Why are your jeans wet?”

  “I slipped on the rocks, trying to cross to the other side, and fell knee first into the water. Whoever stashed the victim over there knew this area well. It’s impossible to cross in the dark.” Evan rubbed the brace on his arm.

  Guilt flooded over her.

  Seeing Evan’s arm confined was a constant reminder of what they went through with her deceased husband. Reminders that were starting to become less with each passing day. “Most likely this wasn’t a robbery attempt.” Lily looked down at the notepad he’d given her. “The victim has two names. Were you able to I.D. her?”

  “I think so. She had a driver’s license on her person. Our vic, Ariel Weeks, black female, thirties. Worked as a waitress at a club called On The Edge. We found a pay stub and another driver’s license with a different name, same picture. Jasmine Brooks.

  “The victim was found behind the deep brush on the flood plain, near the waters’ edge. A kayaker spotted the body from the river. It’s lucky they did; this area doesn’t get much use this time of year until the river is frozen.”

  “The weather is on our side this year. Thank you, El Niño.” Lily side-stepped around Evan and studied the area. The exposed roots of the trees and sandbar willow shrubs made it difficult to get to. Chances of seeing a body from here—slim to none.

  Narrow stream outlets ran between where Lily stood and the crime scene.

  Evan pointed. “The victim had been positioned upright against that tree, with a choke chain wrapped around her neck and a leash tied to a branch.”

  “Like the one used on dogs?” Lily asked.

  “Correct.”

  Blades from the dive team’s motor boat slapped at the white caps further down the river.

  “Was she clothed?”

  “Yes. The divers found the victim’s car submerged about a hundred feet down river from the boat launch.”

  “Who’s my responding officer?”

  “Nick.”

  “Radio him. Inform him that I want Highway 26 and Blackhawk Island Road sealed off. Anyone headed to or coming from Janesville can use Highway 12.” Lily scanned the houses lined up along the river’s edge. “Where’s Alec?”

  “He’s on his way.”

  “When he gets here, you two go canvas the houses along the water. Somebody had to see something. Has the family been notified?”

  Evan shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “No. I thought you’d want to do that. She was married with two kids.”

  A pain settled in the back of Lily’s throat. Another parent ripped away from her babies. And it’s so close to Christmas, too. “You thought right. What time did you get here?”

  “The new guy and I got here ten minutes ago. I gave him a ride.”

  “What new guy?”

  Evan pointed out a short black male, no taller than five foot five, wearing a hat and sports jacket, standing on one of the stone steps by a team of forensic techs. “Detective Jeremiah Mills. He’s out of Milwaukee. Owen sent him here to shadow you.”

  Sarge, you couldn’t wait at least until the New Year? I’m not ready for a new partner. “Is Hauser here yet?”

  “Yeah. He’s with the body.”

  Lily handed Evan back his notepad, retrieved a pair of gloves from her jacket pocket and scanned the small hill. “I’m going to go have a look-see.”

  Evan touched her arm. “You were up and gone before I woke up this morning. Is everything okay? How’s the morning sickness?”

  No, everything’s not okay. “I’m fine. I went to grab a coffee at Hindle’s and sat for a minute. I needed some time to think.”

  “You went through a lot—”

  Lily lowered her voice. “You promised you’d keep my secret. The last thing I need is for someone to overhear this discussion. Stop worrying for, like, two seconds. My concern as of this minute is this case.” Lily turned and walked toward the parking lot where members of Hauser’s team had set up.

  Lily knew if Evan had any inkling that she was struggling to keep her fears at bay, he’d continue pressing for answers until he was satisfied. And she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep displaying the false smile that hid her true feelings of anger and fear.

  Less than two weeks ago, she had shot and killed the man she had trusted to love her and be her everything: her husband. Now she was carrying his child.

  After the hurt, pain, and mixed emotions, Lily had let her father-in-law, handle the cremation details. She had refused to attend the memorial service.

  She climbed the last two steps, passed Detective Mills, ducked under the crime scene tape, and spotted Frank Hauser, her medical examiner, among the team of forensic technicians.

  Jeremiah trailed behind. “Wait up.”

  “You keep up.”

  “My bad, Shorty. I thought you were the chick in charge.”

  “Save the street talk for the streets. My name is Lily, not Shorty and I’m a woman, not a chick.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  As Lily neared, Frank finished a phone call and hung up. “You look stressed,” she said.

  Hauser placed his phone in his hip pocket. “Talking to our new D.A. does that to me.”

  “Yeah, well, she doesn’t take office until January, but Ibee is more into politics than she is following the rules.”

  “I agree.” Hauser unzipped the plastic-coated body bag, revealing a woman of simple beauty, dressed in a sweater, blue chemise, and jeans. Heavy bruises discolored her dark oval face, in sharp contrast with the shiny stainless control collar wrapped around her neck. “There’s fingernail marks on the skin which indicate the victim tried to get her fingers under the collar.”

  “It wasn’t quick; she suffered.” Lily stepped in closer. “A mom. A wife. Had the life choked out of her as she struggled to breathe, desperate as she fought for her life.” Lily’s gloved hand rested at the base of her throat as images of her being in a similar predicament not long ago at the hands of her husband popped into her mind like bubbles fleeing towards the sky.

  The sound of sirens approaching helped Lily escape her thoughts. “Did my detectives get pics?”

  “Tons of them.”

  “Then I’ll just take a few more.” Lily pulled her phone from her jacket pocket. “Was she ever in the water?”

  “No. The body’s stiff but not frozen. This El Niño weather helps. At least we’re not in our usual temps of below zero.”

  As Lily snapped photos, her eye caught sight of something just underneath the victim’s sweater. With a gloved index finger, she parted the sweater and viewed the ink drawing located just beneath Ariel’s collarbone. She’s got an hourglass tattoo.

  Lily zoomed in and snapped a pic. “That tat usually means one has served time.”

  “It could mean a lot of things. Gang members sport tattoos.” Hauser said.

  Lily stopped taking pictures and placed her phone in her jacket pocket. “Now I’m curious, Frank. What the hell did Ibee want?”

  “She wanted what she always wants. Information that I won’t have until my examination is complete.”

  Lily shook her head. My history with Ibee has been anything but easy. She’s like a jagua
r in heat waiting for the next murder case to land on her desk, so she could make a prime example out of the criminal and mark it with the letter I. “Ibee’s seeking information before my victim is even on your table?”

  “As always, it’s only when it can benefit her.”

  “So, what’re you thinking?”

  “C’mon. You know I don’t like to speculate.”

  “You’re not speculating. You’re giving me an educated guess. A guess that’ll stay between you and me.”

  Hauser shook his head and zipped up the bag. “I have no doubts, but this is one case I can’t guess on until I get this body on my table. Let me conduct my autopsy first, then, I’ll be more than happy to talk to you. I’ve been more than generous with doing favors for you in the past. This time, you’ll have to wait.”

  “My victim was a waitress. You and I both know that once you’re associated with a gang, there’s only one way to get out. The chances that my vic was a gang member isn’t possible. So for the record, I don’t believe it. There’s something more here.”

  Lily stared at Hauser hoping for a sign that he’d break. Damn. He’s not going to tell me about the phone call. He’s going to make me wait this time. “You’re the eyes in the back of my head. You tell me what my victim can’t and I depend on you to help me push this case forward.”

  “That’s your best schmooze to date, but I’m still not discussing it.” Hauser turned away and finished packing up his things.

  “Was there any physical evidence?”

  Hauser ran his fingers through his reddish-brown locks. “A cigar butt near the dock and what’s left of a tire tread that wasn’t enough for me to pour a cast. I think finding a hundred dollar bill in her mouth was bizarre. That’s a first for me. Hopefully, we can get a print off the envelope.

  “I do believe that you have your scene of the crime and crime scene right here.”

  Lily quickly scoped out the surrounding area. Why was Ariel Weeks here? Was she meeting someone? “Did she have a phone?”

  Frustration crossed Hauser’s face. “No phone. Forensics is still looking.”