Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

T he brightly colored sign on the front of New2You Consignment & Trades was awash in midday sun. “This is the place, huh?” Aaron asked as he slipped his pickup truck into a parking spot across from the store.

“Yeah.” They both got out, and he took her hand as they crossed the street. “Oh, look at that sweater in the window! Isn’t it cute? I wonder―”

“One mystery at a time, babe, okay? I don’t think I can handle two.”

The bell on the door jangled as they stepped inside, and the same lady who’d sold Maisey the coat came into view from the back of the store. “Hi there. Can I help you with something?”

Maisey smiled. “Do you remember me? I bought the coat in the window.”

“Oh, yes! Didn’t have time to try it on. Did it fit?”

“It fit very nicely. This is my husband, DeputyAaron Friedman. We were wondering… I found something very personal inside the pocket of the coat. Could you tell me where it came from so I could return it to the owner?” Maisey and Aaron had discussed it before they got to the store and agreed that was probably the best story they could use. Otherwise, Aaron would be forced to try to get a search warrant, and trying to justify that with the story of “my wife sees a murder when she puts the coat on” didn’t seem likely to compel a judge to hand him what he’d need.

There was a smile on the woman’s face, but Maisey detected a touch of irritation in her voice. “That’s impossible. We clean out all the pockets before we sell a garment. Nothing ever gets past us.”

“Well, this did. It was in the inside breast pocket, so…” Maisey said, trying to use her best poker face.

“Oh. Well, I wouldn’t want to deny a person their personal property. If you’ll just bring it back to the store, I’ll―”

“No, ma’am. Now that the coat is in my wife’s possession, that makes it her responsibility to get the item back to the rightful owner. Handing it over to you would be poor judgment on our part.”

The woman eyed him for a minute, then glanced at Maisey before looking back to Aaron. “Okay. Let me look it up. Do you have the tag?”

Maisey nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She handed the tag to the woman.

“Oh. Yes. I know where this came from. I don’t even have to look it up.”

They waited. Finally, Aaron said, “And that would be…”

“Oh! I’m sorry. The WhitleyCounty Morgue.”

Maisey’s eyelids flew open so widely that the air hitting her eyeballs actually hurt. “The morgue ? You take clothes from the morgue ?”

Aaron shrugged. “It’s not like it sounds, honey. They wind up with perfectly good clothing that comes in on bodies, and when the next of kin doesn’t pick it up, they don’t want to just throw it away. They’re really underfunded, so they bring in what can be resold and make a little money that way. It only makes sense.”

“But… from the morgue ?” Maisey snipped again.

The lady started again. “Ma’am, as I told you―”

“That’s okay, ma’am,” Aaron assured the woman. “We appreciate you taking time to give us the information. That’s all I need right now. If I think of anything else, I’ll come back and we can talk again.”

Maisey half whispered out, “The morgue ?”

“Come on, Maise. Let’s go,” Aaron said and took her arm. “Thanks again, ma’am,” he called back to the woman as he led Maisey to the front door.

Their feet hit the sidewalk and Maisey wheeled on Aaron. “The morgue ? They’re selling clothes that come from THE MORGUE ?”

“Babe, I know what she’s saying. Sometimes they get bodies in there dressed in really nice clothing, but nobody wants it. This is better than just throwing it away.”

“So they sell haunted clothing ? And they think that’s okay?”

“From where I stand, it’s fine. I mean, who cares?”

“I bought a coat that’s haunted ! I care!” Maisey almost screamed.

“Come on. Get in the truck and we’ll drive down to the morgue.”

Maisey shook her head as he opened her door. “I don’t want to go to the morgue.”

“Hey, you started this. You opened this can of worms, and you’re going to be there when we snap it shut or dump ’em out.” He closed the door and Maisey sat there, shocked.

They were going to the morgue to find the previous owner of her coat. The thought sickened her. But one way or another, she needed answers.

Even if they came from the dead.

“Can’t I just stay in the truck?” she whined as they pulled up outside the coroner’s office.

“No. You’ve got to go in with me. Come on.” He rounded the front of the truck and opened her door, then took her hand and helped her out of her seat. “You’ll like Morgan. He’s a good guy. Very smart. All the ladies love him,” Aaron said with a smirk.

“Oh, very funny.”

“You’ll see.” He held the office door for her and waited to follow her inside. “Anybody home?”

There was a sound from farther into the building and a door opened. A second later, the handsomest man Maisey had ever seen was standing in front of her. “Aaron! What are you up to?”

“Just need to ask you a question or two. Oh, this is my wife, Maisey. Maise, this is our coroner, MorganWatters.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Maisey,” the man said and held out a gloved hand, then jerked it back. “My bad. You don’t want to shake that,” he said with a grin. Maisey barely noticed for staring at him. He had gorgeous, dark eyes, a dark, close-cropped beard, and wavy dark hair pulled up in a man bun. A little tendril hung down here and there, and she could hear the blood swooshing through her veins just from looking at him. To top it off, he had the thickest, sexiest Australian accent Maisey had ever heard. He interrupted her thoughts when he said, “So you’ve got some questions for me?”

“Yeah. So Maisey bought a coat at the consignment store and the lady there said you guys brought it in.”

Morgan nodded. “It’s possible. We do take things in there from time to time after we’ve tried our best to get family members to take them. If we still have them six months later, we take them over there. So what did this coat look like?”

Maisey pulled out her phone and poked around until the picture came up. “It was this one.” She handed the phone to Morgan and waited.

“Oh, yeah. I remember this coat. Bright colors. Very unusual.”

“It sure is,” Aaron muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, came in on a woman in her midtwenties.”

Before she even thought about it, Maisey blurted out, “She was stabbed.”

Morgan’s brow furrowed and he quirked one corner of his mouth upward. “Yeah. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Aaron said before Maisey could respond. “So what can you tell me about her? Was it deemed a homicide?”

“Oh, for sure. Yeah. Let me see if I can pull up her file. I remember the last name but not the first.” They followed Morgan down the hallway and turned left to step into his office.

“How long ago would you say it’s been?”

“About seven, eight months maybe? Something like that. Someone called an ambulance, but she was already dead when they got there. Had been for a bit. Deputies collected some stuff, but that was about it. It was out behind the ball fields off CreeksideDrive, near the tennis courts.” He poked around a little bit. “Here it is. VictoriaHunt.”

“I remember that case. No one was ever arrested.” Aaron had pulled out his tablet and was looking through the department’s case files. “Yeah. Almost eight months ago.”

“Right, right. They brought her in, but I wasn’t here. I was over on the other side of the county at that house fire. Remember that one? Where the mom and two kids died.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” Aaron answered. Maisey did too. Her office had been following the mom and kids, and when it all sifted down, the dad had killed the three of them and set the house on fire, then shot himself. But he’d lived, and he’d been in jail ever since. It had been a dark, sad day for her office.

“So they brought her on in because the deputy who worked the scene said to just go ahead and transport. She was here when I got back.”

“Great. Almost no forensics done at the scene. And the coat was on her?”

“Yep. It wasn’t in really terrible shape. She’d been found sitting up against a stump, so most of the blood had run down into her lap, between her legs, and under her. The coat had a little on it, but not much.”

“And why couldn’t I see that?” Maisey asked, truly puzzled. It should’ve had stains on it, but it didn’t.

“We have chemicals that we use to clean up bloodstains and the like. Tressa cleaned it up.” Before Maisey could ask who that was, Morgan added, “She’s an aide here. Runs errands, cleans things up, stuff like that. She’s really good with cleaning the garments. We made enough last year by selling them to buy some supplies, which really helped us. Every little bit helps.”

“Yeah, like everything else, grossly underfunded,” Aaron said under his breath.

“You know it.”

“So one stab wound to the abdomen and she bled out.”

“Yeah. Abdominal aorta. Didn’t take long.”

“Gotcha. I’ve also got the medical examiner’s notes in here from the autopsy, so I’ll just sit down and read all of them, yours and theirs. And I appreciate you taking the time to talk to us,” Aaron said.

“Not a problem. If I can help, let me know.”

“Thank you,” Maisey said, still not feeling any better about the situation.

“You’re welcome. You two have a good day,” Morgan said with a grin. “I’ve got to get back in here to old Mr.Spiceland. He was cranky in life, and I have no reason to think he’s any different now.”

Aaron laughed. “Get back to it, and thanks again.” Aaron and Maisey made their way to the front door, and Maisey said nothing. Once they were both in the truck, Aaron turned to look at her. “So?”

“What?”

“What did you think?”

“I think he’s even better looking than you said.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “No, I mean about the information.”

“Just as I expected. Is there any way I can―”

“See the case file? Oh, you’re absolutely going to see the case file. I’m bringing the actual physical file home tonight and we’ll go over it.”

“Thank you, babe.” Maisey leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for believing me.”

“I always believe you. Except when it comes to what you spend on Christmas gifts. You’re one terrible liar when it comes to that stuff.”

“Yeah, but you always like your gifts, right?”

Aaron grinned. “Yep. But if all you gave me was you, naked and in our bed, that would be fine by me,” he said as he drove along.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’ll just save my money then!” Maisey answered and laughed. Aaron had no idea how much she loved him.

She thought about the young woman as Aaron drove her to her office. Who had loved VictoriaHunt? And who had wanted her dead? Those were the questions she wanted answered in that moment. But what she wanted most of all was to finally see that murderer’s face.

Once they got Murielle to bed, Aaron went back out to his cruiser, got the file, and brought it in. “Does SheriffMcEvers care for you doing this?” she asked.

“Nah. I told her I might have a lead on the case and she was fine with it. You know Carly. She’s pretty easy to get along with.” Maisey knew that to be true. She and CarlyMcEvers had become good friends, and the two of them, along with her friend CherilynHarrison, got together as often as possible. Carly and Ross, her husband, had a sweet little baby, Belle. Cherilyn had two adorable girls, Maya and Lara, and she and her husband, Shaw, were hoping for another one. They’d also taken on Candace, Shaw’s daughter from a previous marriage, and she had grown to be part of the group too. Only Maya and Candace were close in age, but that was fine. Candace, Murielle, and Maya loved playing with Belle and watching out for Lara, who was severely handicapped. Not only did the three women get along great, but they had become excellent babysitting resources for each other.

Aaron opened up the file and started pointing out information to Maisey. She was surprised to see that Victoria had two sisters. Hadn’t one of them wanted her coat, especially since she was wearing it when she died? And if not, why not? There was a lot of information in the file to take in, and she knew it wouldn’t be a one-night thing. As though he was reading her mind, Aaron said, “I know this is a lot of info, but there’s no one working this case right now, so Carly said to keep the file as long as we need to.”

“Did she ask you what your lead was?”

“No. She trusts me. And if there’s anything I’ve learned about Carly, she likes a good mystery,” Aaron said with a grin. “There’s nothing she likes better than getting information out of left field and trying to piece it together so she can nail somebody. Loves it. I laugh at her and call her JessicaFletcher. Makes her laugh,” he said with a chuckle, referencing the crime mystery show Murder, She Wrote.

“I like one too, as long as I’m not right in the middle of it. Actually, I’d prefer that it was on TV and resolved in under an hour.” Maisey kept looking through the file. It was neat and orderly, and she wondered how many of the deputies had worked on it before and who they were. “Can you tell which of the deputies worked this?”

“Babe, I think everybody had a finger in it at some time. It was a pretty high-profile case until the trail went cold.”

“High-profile? Why?”

“VictoriaHunt was a pageant contestant, remember?”

“I totally forgot!” Maisey remembered it all then. Rumors had flown about who would want the pretty twenty-something dead―twenty-four, according to the file, Maisey noted. But everyone had gone on and on about how sweet she was, and how kind she was, and how they couldn’t understand why anyone would hurt her. “What was that called again?”

“The Miss Southern States Pageant. Said it would be the next big deal, and she was the Kentucky entry. Folks were really cranked up about it. Put them in a bind when they had to find a replacement for her. Gave it to the first runner-up in the Miss Southern States Kentucky Pageant. Every southern state had to have a pageant and then send their winners to the big pageant.”

“And who did they wind up sending?”

“I don’t remember who the runner-up was. Girl out of Elizabethtown, I think.”

“Huh. Yeah, I don’t remember much about that.”

“Yeah, I’m not into that stuff, but I do remember the fuss when they had to come up with a contestant on the fly. Seems like something had happened to the first runner-up and they had to go to the second runner-up or something. I don’t remember. But as I recall, losing her wiped out their hopes of actually having a winner from Kentucky in the big pageant.”

Maisey flipped through the file a bit more. “So where’s the medical examiner’s report?”

“Uh… Here. Take a look.”

Maisey started reading through it. “Looks pretty… average.” She read through it a second time, but nothing stood out. “So do you have a list of suspects in here anywhere?”

“Yeah, but they were all ruled out.”

“Do you have pictures of them?”

“I’m sure we do.” Aaron paged through the file again. “Well, most of them. I don’t think we have pictures of a couple of them, but they were ruled out pretty quickly, so there was no need.”

“Think you could get them?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m sure I could. They were locals, so that won’t be any trouble. We should be able to get their driver’s license photos pretty easily.”

“Good. I want to see them.” She closed the file folder and laid it on the table. “And now you know what I have to do.”

Aaron groaned. “Not again.”

“It’s the only way we’ll ever get answers.”

“Okay. Let me check on Murielle while you get the coat. I’ll be right back.” Maisey watched him go, thankful that she had a partner who was supportive. She didn’t know what she’d do without him. Then she stifled a giggle when she remembered what she did before she’d met him. It was a lot less fun back then.

She ran to the closet, pulled out the coat, and waited. As soon as he came back into the room, she asked, “Outside again?”

“Yeah, I think that worked pretty well.” Maisey hadn’t realized she was grinning like an idiot. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing’s funny. Just thinking… Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

Aaron took the jacket out of her hand, tossed it onto the sofa, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her up against him. “No. Why don’t you tell me?”

“You’re damn sexy. Fucking hot as hell.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Oh, yeah? It’s the uniform, isn’t it?”

Maisey couldn’t help the grin that made her cheeks ache. “No. I like you a whole lot better without it.”

“You keep this up and you’re not putting that coat on.”

Maisey sighed. “I feel like I have to.”

“Right, right. Okay then.” She could hear the frustration in his voice as he pulled his arms away from her and turned toward the back door. “Grab that thing and let’s get this over with.”

Maisey wanted to just forget about it, grab his hand, and lead him to the bedroom, but she couldn’t. VictoriaHunt had died, and they needed to know what had happened to her.

Once she was seated on the ottoman again, she drew on the coat and waited until Aaron was in front of her before she clutched the lapel and pulled it up to rest on her shoulders. Just like before, everything went black, and the figure was there, screaming at her. She could feel Victoria’s fear, and the woman was terrified. The dark figure had a hand on her throat, something Maisey hadn’t picked up on before, and he was yelling. She caught the same phrases as before, “not letting” and “ruin,” but there were other things too. It was confusing, but she was trying to piece it together when the blade flashed and she felt that pain again, watched the arms bend inward, watched them stretch out, and saw the blood on the hands. But then she felt herself sinking, like her knees were buckling, and something hard and bumpy scratched up her back. The dark, shadowy figure was backing away, and she reached toward it, but it disappeared into the darkness just as the light from the vintage bulbs on the deck crept into her consciousness.

As soon as the coat hit the floor, she heard that voice she loved ask, “Maise, you here?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Anything?”

“Yeah.” It was hard to make sense of it, but she was trying. “Something about not letting me do this to someone.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. And something about how it would ruin something, but I don’t know what. And he said something about a good man.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. But I think the good man is the same person I’m not supposed to do whatever it is to.”

“Which is …”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to do it again.”

“Not tonight.”

“No. It’s too draining.” Then she remembered something. “Oh, and he said something about it being just a stupid high school something.”

“Like a high school prank, or a high school game?”

Maisey shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Aaron let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I don’t like you doing this.”

“I don’t like doing it either, but every time I do it, I learn a little more, and eventually I’ll figure it out.”

“I hope so. I’d hate to think this was all a waste of your time and energy.”

“Yours too.”

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you .”

Sadness filled her chest. He had enough on his plate. He had a stressful job, a small child, a wife, and a home. He was trying to take care of it all, and she was just adding to it. But a woman had died. If she could help solve that murder and put a killer behind bars, didn’t she owe it to society to do that? “I’m sorry. I’m just adding to your load and I never meant to―”

“No, babe.” Aaron took her hands and squeezed them. “It’s fine. I understand, really. You want to see justice served. That’s what my whole life is about. When I still worked for the FBI in Texas, nothing thrilled me more than finally catching the bad guy and making sure he could never hurt anyone else ever again. I’m glad you feel that kind of responsibility for the people in your community. I just wish it didn’t have to be so hard on you.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got you.” Maisey leaned out and gave him a soft, sweet kiss on the lips, then pulled back and smiled. “How ’bout I show you how much I love you?”

“With carrot cake?” Aaron wiggled his eyebrows up and down to make Maisey laugh.

“Nope. Something softer and warmer. And maybe even sweeter.”

“I’ll go for that.” He rose from where he’d squatted in front of her and pulled her to standing. “And I expect it to be served in bed.”

Maisey pressed her fingertip to his lips. “That’s my plan.”