Sweet Like a Psycho Page 7

  But for the first time, I wasn’t thinking them to reprimand myself. Detective Reed came here under false pretenses, drugged me, and then did God knows what in my house while I slept. As far as I was concerned, his big lies would have big consequences.

  I ignored the note, grabbed my cellphone, and dialed 911. I had warned him to stay off my property. This wasn’t a game to me. This was my life. And my number one responsibility was to protect my son. Going to prison wasn’t an option for me. I wouldn’t let Zeke go into the system. He needed me.

  “911, what’s your emergency?” The dispatcher asked.

  “Hi, it’s not technically an emergency, but I want to file a complaint about...”

  “Ma’am, this line is for emergencies only…”

  “Right.” I cut her off. “Well, I was drugged by one of your detectives and then he snooped around my house without a warrant.”

  “Ma’am, we can get an ambulance out to you right away. What is your location?”

  “No, I don’t need an ambulance.” I started pacing back and forth. “I’m fine now. He drugged me last night and I just woke up.”

  “Ma’am, did the man who drugged you sexually assault you?”

  “What? No.” God, this conversation was pointless. “It’s not technically an emergency. I just need to file a complaint.”

  “Then an emergency response is not required at this moment. But I will send an officer out to speak to you as soon as possible about your complaint. In the meantime, are you sure you’re not in need of an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital? The drugs in your system may…”

  “I don’t need an ambulance!” This woman was driving me insane.

  “Alright then.” She verified my address and phone number and then the line went dead.

  Seriously? I said a detective had drugged me and snooped around my property and that was all the help I got? Local law enforcement wasn’t going to be any help. They were going to ignore me like all the freaking handymen and end up sending someone young and inexperienced. And there was no way in hell that they were going to believe me. I was the crazy lady on the hill. I tossed my phone down on the kitchen counter beside Detective Reed’s note.

  I wanted to scream and throw things, but instead I took a long slow breath. My head was foggy. I needed to calm down for a minute and figure out what to do. But all I could think about was the fact that I was running out of time. I could hear the hands of a clock counting down in my head and I couldn’t silence them.

  I snatched the letter off the kitchen counter, trying to distract myself from the ticking noise.

  Violet,

  I had a great night with you and your son. You are a wonderful mother and Zeke is an adorable kid. Let me take you both out tonight so you can try that chicken parm when it’s hot from the oven. I’ll be by at seven to pick you two up.

  -Tucker

  Tucker my ass. He was Detective Reed. Our relationship was purely business related. He thought I blew up some random suburban home nearby. And he didn’t know anything about anything. I hope. I looked around the kitchen. There was nothing here that incriminated me. But there was upstairs. In my bedroom where Detective Reed had most certainly been last night. I thought about the pistol hidden beneath my floorboards. I needed to get rid of it. If there was even a small chance Detective Reed had seen it, police officers would be showing up arresting me instead of helping me.

  I ran back upstairs and lifted up the floorboard. Everything still seemed like it was in place, but that didn’t mean anything. I would have put the items back where they belonged too if I had been snooping.

  Last night had seemed perfect. But it wasn’t. It may as well have been a dream. Romance wasn’t something I was interested in. A stranger infiltrating the home I'd worked so hard to fix up so my son could have a normal life? Not happening. Leaving said house for a meal surrounded by whispers and stares? No, thank you. I couldn’t believe that he suggested going out to dinner. The thought was so awful it made me cringe. Detective Reed clearly didn’t know me at all.

  I lifted the gun out of the floorboard. No one really knew me. And they certainly didn’t know what I was capable of. I’d do anything to protect my son. Anything.

  I tried to clear my head. I tried to calm down. If Detective Reed had seen this, would it matter? He searched my house without a warrant. The case would be thrown out in court right away. I didn’t watch TV anymore, but I had seen enough crime shows in high school to know the importance of a warrant. He’d be thrown off the force, I wouldn’t be thrown into prison. But I didn’t know how realistic TV shows were. What if they depicted that small fact wrong? If there was even a chance that I could go to jail for having this gun, I needed to get rid of it.

  The pistol felt heavy in my hand. I had never fired it before. I had never fired any gun before. I turned it over and for a moment I saw red. Blood dripping off the handle. Down the barrel. Dropping in splotches on the ground. Blood was everywhere. I closed my eyes, willing the memory to fade.

  When I opened my eyes again, the gun was clean, like I had just scrubbed it. There wasn’t a single trace of blood. I took another deep breath. If I was lucky, maybe the memories would stop haunting me once it was out of the house. Not that something being out of sight ever really took it out of mind for me. I could still picture my stepfather holding it like it was yesterday. Taking his gun hardly seemed like a crime. I had just been protecting myself. I hadn’t done anything wrong. But I was pretty sure that the more time that faded, the guiltier I’d look. My mother had warned me about lying. And it was about time this pistol ended up in the same place that all my secrets did.

  Chapter 10

  Tucker

  I ran my hand down my face and then looked back at the screen. I had scoured every database, but the consensus was always the same. There was no gun registered under Violet Clark. Which meant she was in possession of an unregistered gun. Which meant I had a decision I didn’t want to make.

  It was still early, I had come in an hour before my shift so that Damien wouldn’t be breathing down my neck. But I didn’t know what else to search. I was completely out of ideas. Violet Clark was a ghost. No Facebook page, no Twitter account, no Instagram. Nothing came up under any Google searches either. I tried to search the mysterious Joel as well, but without a last name I didn’t have much to go on. Last name. Maybe I had her last name wrong!

  Most of the cops were out patrolling, but there were a few sitting at desks nearby. I walked over to the closest one. “Doyle, I got a question about a local for you.”

  “Big bad detective coming all the way over here to talk to us lowly folk,” he said. “This must be good.”

  His friend snickered.

  I hadn’t set up the hierarchy here. I don’t know why they gave me shit when I had done nothing but be nice to them. Ignoring their sarcasm was always the best tactic. “Have either of you ever met a Violet Clark? She has a son named Zeke and she lives on…”

  “You mean the crazy lady on the hill?” Doyle’s friend asked.

  My blood started to boil. “She’s not crazy.”

  Doyle’s eyes seemed to bug out of his face. “She is. It’s a fact. And why are you asking about her anyways? Some case that’s too high level for us?”

  “No. Personal reasons.”

  They both laughed.

  “I just need to know if Clark is definitely her last name.”

  “Violet Clark. Always has been and always will be. If you know what I mean.” Doyle laughed.

  “Why?” I knew what Doyle had meant. But if he had the audacity to say it, I was about to punch him square in the nose. “I’m hoping you’re about to say it’s because she’s incredibly independent and you could see her choosing to keep her name when she gets married.”

  “No. I meant because no one’s crazy enough to marry that psycho bitch.”

  I clenched my hand into a fist. If I had any other options, I’d walk away. But I needed more information from this idiot.
“Did either of you know her when she was in high school? She had a boyfriend…Joel something. Know his last name?” I could have asked Damien about it, but I swore to him I was off the case. He wouldn’t answer my question even if he knew Joel’s last name. I didn’t have a choice here.

  “Nah,” Doyle said. “Heard he left town as soon as he found out his chick was nuts.”

  “You shouldn’t talk shit about someone you don’t know. Didn’t your mom teach you any manners?”

  “Don’t talk about my mother, Reed, or we can take this outside.”

  I held up my hand. “Cool your loins. Thanks for the insightful conversation.” He hadn’t helped me at all. The only thing he had accomplished was pissing me off. But maybe that had always been his intention. I had at least learned never to talk to him again. Judgmental asshole. I started to walk back to my desk, but before I sat down, his friend caught up to me.

  “I actually knew Joel in middle school. We lost touch in high school but his last name is Walker.”

  “Any idea where he is now?”

  “Last I heard he was moving to LA to pursue screenwriting or something like that. Or was it acting? Can’t remember.”

  The few love notes I had seen from him had been short and not exactly groundbreaking. I wouldn’t have guessed he was into screenwriting. Acting though? Maybe. He had certainly pretended to love Violet and then left her out of the blue. “Do you still talk to him?”

  “No. Like I said, we weren’t even friends in high school. I assume he’s still out there, but I haven’t seen his name scrolling during any credits.”

  “Is he Zeke’s father?”

  He shrugged. “I really have no idea. I don’t think anyone knows. She kind of disappeared after Joel skipped town. We all thought she went with him, but then we found out she was living in that shack she calls a house.”

  “Did she buy it? Or did she just start living there?”

  “No idea. And I doubt that anyone cares. It had been abandoned for years. I’m sure no one’s going to come a-knocking anytime soon. Rumor has it that the place is haunted.”

  It didn’t feel haunted to me. Violet’s home was warm and inviting. The place was full of love. “Does she have any other family?” Damien had mentioned that they had left too. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if my family turned their backs on me.

  “I didn’t really know her. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  “It’s fine. Thanks for the info about Joel.” I thought he’d walk away from my desk when I sat down, but he kind of hovered.

  “So is it actually about a case? I get it if you just didn’t want to tell Doyle that.”

  “No, it’s not.” I didn’t need anyone else getting into my business. I needed to figure this one out on my own. Especially since I was tiptoeing the line of professionalism. Or maybe I had already jumped over the line completely.

  “So you’re like…into her?”

  “What if I am?” I didn’t mean to sound so defensive, but the words came out like I was about to punch him in the face.

  “None of my business. It’s just…” his voice trailed off. “Her boyfriend and parents left around the exact same time. No one’s really heard or seen them since. People think she axed them.”

  I laughed. “Yeah…I don’t think so.” But then I thought about the unregistered gun hidden underneath her floorboards. I couldn’t imagine her slaying anyone with an axe. But a gun? She had hid the thing for a reason.

  “Just be careful with her. I’m not one for rumors, but when you hear them so many times…you start to wonder if there’s some truth to them. Like the whole dragon thing. If there are so many stories about dragons from different literature all over the world…you gotta wonder.”

  I glanced at his name tag. Officer Montgomery. I looked back up at him. I’d take anything a man who believed in dragons said with a grain of salt.

  “I mean, she lives out there in the middle of nowhere. With no one around. All that land. That’s a lot of places to bury bodies. A lot of places.”

  I shook my head. “You’re letting your imagination get away from you.”

  “Well, let me know if you find Joel. Guess he could put the rumors to bed.”

  “I’ll let you know when I find him.”

  “If you find him.”

  “When I find him.”

  Montgomery laughed. “Just don’t get yourself killed.” He nodded at me and walked back over to Doyle.

  I tapped my fingers on the top of my desk. After my night with Violet, there hadn’t been a doubt in my mind that she didn’t deserve her nickname. She had a nervous OCD thing. It was barely noticeable. But there were so many more layers to her than that. She was sweet. And kind. I stared at my screen showing the lack of records for her pistol. And a felon.

  I realized I was tapping my fingers, just like she had done last night. I started tapping keys instead, searching for Joel Walker. Unlike Violet, he did have a Facebook page. At least, I was pretty sure it was him. His account was private, but there was a picture of him standing in front of the Hollywood sign. Alive and well in LA, just like he was supposed to be. I debated whether or not I should send him a friend request. That would be weird, right? I stared at the image. It was taken from several years ago, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. I hadn’t updated my profile in years either. I was rarely ever on Facebook. Maybe Joel was the same way.

  Besides, Montgomery was hinting that Joel had never even made it to LA. This picture proved him wrong. I closed the browser and leaned back in my chair. Maybe he left because Zeke wasn’t his. Not the other way around. I wished I could just ask Violet about it, but I couldn’t exactly bring up that I knew about Joel without revealing that I had snooped around her house last night.

  What I needed to do was hear about all the rumors circulating about Violet. Maybe I could piece together some kind of truth if I heard everything. Sally Bennett popped into my head, the nosy neighbor I had met at the crime scene the other night. Might as well go straight to the source. I put her name into the database so I could find her number.

  “Morning,” Damien said and slapped my shoulder as he walked by me.

  I exed out of the browser, but probably not before Damien had seen my screen. Shit.

  He parked himself in the desk across from mine and propped his feet up on it. “I tried to call you last night to see if you wanted to get drinks but your phone went straight to voicemail. Where were you?” He raised both eyebrows like he was hoping for something scandalous.

  “Sorry, it must have died. I was just at home watching the game.”

  “Huh. Funny you should say that, because I drove by your house and your car wasn’t there.”

  I stared at him. “Are you stalking me now?”

  He leaned forward. “You were with Violet, weren’t you?” He angrily whispered at me.

  I could have lied, but he’d see right through that. “Yeah, but it’s not what you think.”

  “You swore you’d drop the case, man.”

  “I did. I wasn’t there because of the case.” Half a lie was better than a whole one.

  “Then why were you there? I told you she was nuts.”

  “And why do you think that? Tell me the exact rumors so I can figure it out. As far as I can tell, she has a nervous OCD thing. That’s it. That doesn’t make her crazy. And saying that she’s crazy with no proof to back it up means nothing to me.”

  “I’m not done talking about last night yet. I asked you to call me if you went to her house. You went in without backup. Her crazy is clearly running off on you.”

  She’s not crazy. “It’s cute that you were worried, but I don’t need you to babysit me, Damien.”

  “Clearly you do.”

  The click of the captain’s heels made us both pause our whisper yelling match.

  “There’s a distress call,” she said. “Who wants to take it?”

  Damien and I both looked at each other. There were cops out
on patrol right now. Why was she asking the ones here?

  “Torres. Reed. Great, thanks for offering. I’ll text you the address. Feel free to take your time, it’s not an emergency.” She turned on her heel without waiting for a response.

  Apparently she wasn’t asking the cops sitting around. She was targeting us. It was like she was trying to get us out of the office for a while. “What the heck did you do to her?” I asked. “She has us handling cops' work.” I went to grab my jacket but my hand came up empty again. I needed to either buy a new coat or ask Violet for mine back.

  “I didn’t do anything. She’s probably pissed at you. You do realize she has access to our search history, right?”

  Shit, this probably was about me. “Do you think I should talk to her?”

  “No you shouldn’t talk to her. You should cut this crap out.”

  “I told you, I wasn’t at Violet’s house to talk about the case. We were having dinner.”

  “Dinner? Jesus Christ.” He looked up at the ceiling like we were both about to be smote. “Why can’t you date a nice, normal, non-suspect woman?”

  I ignored him as we climbed into my car. There was a cold front coming and instead of the heat kicking on, we got a blast of frigid air. I was glad I had gone to Violet’s last night, despite all the warnings, and despite the pistol I had found. The thought of her suffering through this cold without a working heater made me mad. I still couldn’t believe that repairmen were scared of her too.

  “Where are we heading?” I rubbed my hands together, trying to get them warm.

  “It’s your lucky day. We’re going to your girlfriend’s house.”

  “What happened?” It felt like my heart was ricocheting around my chest.

  He looked back down at his phone. “Apparently she was attacked or something.”

  There was a reason why rumors shouldn’t be trusted. Just the thought of one of them escalating to violence was terrifying. And I had no doubt in my mind that the distress call was related to some idiot who believed whispers instead of reality. It didn’t matter that Violet had an unregistered gun. She was a good person. She didn’t deserve this shit. I made up my mind in that second that I wasn’t going to report her for having an unregistered gun. There was no question about it. We had been on one date and I already felt protective of her. I shoved the car into drive and slammed my foot on the gas. If someone had hurt her, I was going to kill them.