The Ocean's Call Part 7
Part 7* It’s starting to get even more interesting, don’t you think? Just you wait.
“What? It’s not blood? What is it, raspberry syrup? Andrew asked.
“No, it’s blood alright, “ William said quite seriously.”
“But it’s not the missing guy’s blood,” Andrew suggested, trying to stay ahead of the curve.”
William’s reply was surprising; “Not unless he had four legs, pointy ears and wags his tail. It’s canine. There was lot of it, so I don’t suppose whatever varmint it belonged to is doing much waggin, or walkin’, but it ain’t our guy’s. Kinda makes you wonder what happened there. Maybe someone popped in, the dog goes for him, he kills the dog, then grabs our guy.” He paused for a moment, and looked up at the ceiling. “Kinda strange though,” William muttered. “What?” Andrew asked.
“Where’s the dog’s body? I mean, we did a complete search of the place and all around the grounds, no sign of him or the dead dog. Why would anyone kill a dog, then drag his carcass around while he’s in the middle of kidnapping a dude. Doesn’t make sense.” “I’ll let you two guys figure that out while I go and do some real investigative work,” William said and walked out closing the door.
“What did this… (John leaned over to read the name on the newspaper photo) Elizabeth Marshall have to say?” He was trying to be appear overly interested.
“Not much, “ Andrew said, “She was real nervous, jumpy like she was scared of something, I felt bad for her. Word has it this missing guy, Jack Maloney was connected. His father was a made man from New York who ended up in the Hudson River. He grew up down here on the shore, but you know what they say, like father like son. I understand the local constabulary got a lot of domestic calls. Sad case. Pretty girl. I didn’t conduct the interview, thought it best I keep a distance.”
“Why’s that?” John asked. “Complicated, and I’m done talking about her, I mean the case.” And you need to forget you ever saw her.” “Look, this may end up a murder investigation, and Maloney is very likely to be the murderee and she might be the murder-er. Jesus, John, you just happen to have the worst luck with women, but this one beats them all. You just “happen” to bump into her, give her a ride home, on the night her boyfriend comes up missing, maybe because she killed him and dumped his body into the ocean. Then she runs into you.”
“You need to stay the fuck out of this, I’m telling you. You don’t know what’s involved. Really.”
“I need to talk to her. Maybe I can help.” John offered.
“Right, John Morris, computer whiz solves murder case. Do me favor and forget it, maybe I can keep you out of this. Did anyone see you leave with her?”
“I don’t think so. I slipped off to the bathroom when I bumped into her, then we slid out the front door. The place was crazy, wall to wall, I don’t think anyone noticed.”
“Please just do me this one thing, let me know where she lives. I will play dumb, see what she says. Promise to pass along anything important.”
“For once, maybe it might be better for you to have a chat with her. She doesn’t know you have a cop for a brother does she?”
“No, I mean we spent maybe 30 minutes together with very little discussion, I mean I didn’t even get her name. Until it’s spread all over the newspaper.” Good, keep it that way. I mean don’t tell her you’re related to me or that you even know a cop. And call me after you see her. I can’t give you her address, but if I happen to leave my notebook on the desk while I go take a piss…..” “Thanks bro.”
Later that evening John found himself standing in front of the house. Her house. Well, actually his house, but with Maloney missing, Elizabeth was the sole tenant. John stepped up to the door and grabbed the brass knocker and heard the sound echo through the house. “Who is it?” A nervous voice on the other side of the door asked the million dollar question. “Uh, it’s me, the guy you bumped into Saturday night? I gave you a ride home, or..uh…. well where I thought you lived.”
The door flew open, “How did you find me?” She wore a long silk dress, almost transparent, her pink undergarments were plainly visible. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and her feet were bare. If he had not already fallen madly in love with her at the bar, this would have clinched the deal. He felt like a little boy in awe of a Victoria’s Secret Model. “Are you going to ask me to come in, or do I have to stand out here waiting for Christmas?” He didn’t even know what that meant, but it worked, “Come in, you!” she said in the most endearing way.