CHAPTER TWO

Angus set the last glass in the dishwasher then shut it and dried his hands on a towel. "Now that we have that done, how about a movie?" He glanced behind him to where Lance was sitting at the kitchen table with their dog, Haunt, at his feet.

"Sounds good. I'm so full I'm not sure I could go any farther than the living room." Lance patted his stomach. "That was amazing."

"Thank my mom, not me. She's the one that brought the roast over this afternoon. She called to tell me she'd left it in the fridge, and I just needed to warm it up once we got home." Angus shrugged. "I keep telling her we can cook, but she's convinced we'll starve or live off fast food if she doesn't cook for us."

"I'm not complaining. I love her cooking. Besides, she's leaving town tomorrow. We won't get anything for at least a week. She'll see when she gets back that we're still alive and not starving without her here to feed us." Lance drank the last of his tea before standing and taking the glass to the sink. "I'd offer to make popcorn, but I'm too full to enjoy it right now."

"You and me both." Angus smiled. He loved living with Lance. The newness was slowly wearing off and they'd found a comfortable routine together. He'd never doubted for a minute they'd get along. "Ray and Bethany here?" Angus glanced through the window into the backyard. It wasn't like he could see the two if they were there. Unlike Lance and his mother, he didn't have the ability to see ghosts, and that's exactly what Ray and Bethany were. The ghostly couple lived with them, spending most of their time in the backyard, but would often come in to watch a movie or visit with Lance.

"No, they went out." Lance pulled two bottles of water from the fridge, then headed to the living room. "Some dance class they've been taking."

Angus followed Lance and sat down beside him on the couch. "Maybe we should try a class with them sometime?"

Lance laughed. "Dancing? I mean, I can fake it with the best of them, but I don't think I can do any serious dancing. I'd break your toes, if not your whole foot."

"You're not that bad. We danced on the cruise ship." Angus had loved going to the club on the ship late into the night and holding Lance close.

"Right, after we had too much to drink and I wasn't thinking straight. I can't get drunk before going to a dance class." Lance reached for the remote. "What do you want to watch?"

"See what's new. There has to be something we haven't seen yet." Angus slipped off his shoes and relaxed. It had been a long day, and he was glad to be home. He'd gone over to the morgue to watch the autopsy on the young girl. He hadn't been shocked when Lance told him it appeared to be a homicide. He'd known from the evidence around the bedroom. Someone had come through the girl's window and killed her sometime in the middle of the night. He just didn't know who or why.

"Stop thinking about the case." Lance set the remote down on the coffee table.

"Am I that obvious?" Angus asked.

Lance laughed. "Yeah, you are. I know you well enough to know the look you get when you're thinking about cases. Where was Franks today?"

"He was in court. Probably tomorrow as well. How did interviews go?"

Lance laughed softly. "They didn't. Sam had two no-shows and the other three we interviewed weren't what we were looking for. One guy straight up told Sam that if he wasn't working with the bodies, he didn't want the job. He thought we'd allow him back in autopsy. Then there was the one girl who just wants a job for a few months before she goes off to college, and the other woman who was six months pregnant and not sure she'd be going back to work after having the baby."

"So what are you guys going to do?" Angus asked.

"Sam set up a few more interviews tomorrow. We need to find someone. It's been two months. Carrie is going to kill us if we keep her on the front desk much longer." Lance sighed. "We still have ads out. Hopefully, someone good will apply."

Angus continued to run his fingers through Lance's hair as the movie started. His mind was only half on the movie, the other half was thinking about everything he should be doing. Since he moved in with Lance, he'd put his house up for rent. He still hadn't found anyone to move in. He'd had some local college kids ask about it, but he didn't need that headache. He didn't need the money, but he hated having it sit empty. It had only been up for rent for a few weeks, but he was starting to wonder if he should sell it instead.

The sound of his phone ringing had him tensing. He knew that ringtone. "It's work." He shifted slightly to reach for his phone from where it sat on the coffee table.

Lance sat up, giving him room. "No, not tonight."

Angus sighed as he glanced at Lance. "Sorry." He answered the phone. "Young."

"We've got another murder. Phil's on a case at the racetrack. I need you and Franks on this one," Captain Marshall told him, then went on to give him and address.

"Give me fifteen." He ended the call and set the phone down before standing. "Sorry, I've got to go. I shouldn't be too long. They're calling Franks in as well." He was glad his partner would be there with him. Things would go faster with the two of them working the case.

"I thought Phil worked nights." Lance clicked off the TV.

"He's already on a call out at the racetrack. I'll try to hurry." He leaned over and kissed Lance before heading down the hall to the bedroom. He quickly dressed and made sure he had his wallet, notebook, pen, and gun, then headed back out.

Lance was already curled up on the couch with a book he'd been reading. Haunt had already stolen Angus's place on the couch beside him. "I guess someone's happy I have to go out." Angus ran his hand over the dog's head.

"She's just keeping your spot warm while you're gone." Lance closed his book. "Be careful out there."

"Promise." Angus leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. "Don't wait up." He grabbed his car keys and headed out the door.

Once on the road, he wondered about the case he was headed to. All he knew was it was a drowning. Odd that they would call him out for that. Usually, drownings were accidental. He was curious what had them calling this one murder.

He pulled up in front of a large family home in one of the nicer areas of Fairway. He didn't get many calls out this way. He noticed the medical examiner's van parked across the street, and several Fairway police vehicles around, but he didn't see Franks' car yet. He debated on waiting a few so they could walk in together, but curiosity won out and he stepped out of the car.

It was still light out, the sun dipping into the west. He liked that the days were getting longer, but that also meant warmer. In Texas, that meant hot. He was dreading what the next couple of months would bring. It was just the first part of June, and he was already wishing he could wear shorts and a t-shirt to work.

As he made his way to the front door, he smiled at the officer standing there. "Evening."

"Detective." The man nodded and wrote down Angus's name on his notebook that kept track of anyone coming in or out of the crime scene. "Go straight through. They're in the backyard. Family is in the living room."

"Thanks." He stepped inside and paused to pull out his gloves and take a pair of shoe covers from the box on the table beside the door. From where he stood, he could see an open sliding glass door in the back of the house and hear muted conversations going on. He made his way toward them, glancing only for a second into the living room where a woman cried as she sat on the couch with a towel around her hair and a blanket around her shoulders, while a uniformed officer stood, looking uncomfortable.

"Angus, good to see you." Mack, the night shift medical examiner shook his hand.

"Mack. What we got?" Angus took in the scene. A girl lay on the bottom of the deep end of the pool. As Angus looked closer, he could see she was weighed down with some kind of large bucket that appeared to be attached to her wrist with a chain and handcuffs. "What the hell?" Angus glanced back at Mack.

"It's a bucket of cement. Probably weighs eighty pounds. Officer Tholson is inside changing into his swim trunks. Lucky, he had them in his gym bag in his car. He's going to dive down, cut the chain, and bring her up, then go back down for the bucket." Mack frowned. "Mother came home from work late and found her. The father is on his way home now."

Angus cringed. "Was anyone else home?"

Mack shrugged. "Not that I've heard, but I just got here. The mother jumped in and tried to pull her out but couldn't manage the body and the bucket together. I'm sure the panic didn't help. She got out and called for help."

"Let me out there." A man's voice boomed from inside the house.

Angus turned and saw a man he'd met just a few months ago while working on another case. He quickly made his way inside. "Mr. Bloomquist." He glanced at the officer who was trying to talk to him, then at the woman who'd been crying as she rushed toward the man.

"Alan…" She threw herself into his arms.

"Patricia, what happened?" Mr. Bloomquist held the woman to him as she cried. "Why are you wet?"

"I tried to save her. I tried, but I couldn't lift everything." The woman sobbed uncontrollably.

"Where is Fiona?" Mr. Bloomquist stared at Angus. "Where's my daughter?"

"Let's go sit in the living room." Angus tried to turn them in that direction. "Please, your wife doesn't need to see out there."

Mr. Bloomquist stared out the door for a long moment, then nodded. "Come, Patricia." He turned her, keeping her tucked up against him as he led her into the living room. Once he had her seated, he looked up at Angus. "What happened? She called me saying Fiona was dead."

"We aren't sure what happened yet, but yes, your wife found her in the bottom of the pool. Paramedics were unable to help her. I'm afraid she's passed away." Angus wished he knew more. He'd just gotten there. He didn't know what to tell the father other than the truth.

"She was murdered," Patricia cried against his shoulder.

Alan Bloomquist's gaze shot to Angus. "Murdered?"

"Possibly. We don't have a clear picture yet of what happened, but it appears that way." Angus sighed. It could be suicide, but he'd never known anyone to drown themselves this way. It wasn't impossible but wasn't likely. "We'll be able to tell more once the medical examiner is able to look at her."

"What happened?" Alan shook his head. "She didn't like to swim alone. She wouldn't have gone out to the pool without someone with her."

Patricia wiped her tears with a tissue. "She was dressed. Not in her suit. I think someone made her get in. They chained her to a heavy bucket and made her get in."

Again, Alan raised his gaze to Angus. "Is this true?"

"All we know now is that she was found clothed in the bottom of the pool, chained to a bucket that appears to have cement in it. They are working right now to collect all the evidence. The medical examiner will take her and hopefully figure out what happened."

"Cement? Where would that come from?" Alan shook his head.

"We aren't sure." Angus took a seat in a chair that faced Alan and Patricia, then pulled out his notebook. "When was the last time either of you spoke to your daughter?"

"She called me after she got home from dance class. She was upset about something and wanted to cook dinner with me tonight. That doesn't happen often at her age. She seldom makes time to spend with me. I hated telling her that I'd be late. She was going to make dinner and have it ready for us. Then we'd make cookies together for dessert." Patricia glanced at her husband. "I shouldn't have worked late tonight. I should have come home. Maybe if I had, this wouldn't have happened." She started crying harder.

Angus glanced at the uniformed officer standing beside them. "Will you check in the kitchen and see if dinner was made?"

The officer nodded and headed for the kitchen.

"What time did you talk to her?" Angus asked as he saw Franks walk into the room.

"It would have been around three. I can look. My phone would show the time." She searched for her phone, then sighed. "My purse is by the front door. I drop it there when I come in the house."

"It's okay. We'll check it in a few." Angus noticed Franks head toward the backyard. He refocused on the parents. "You said she was upset? Did she say what about?"

"I asked, but she just sighed and said it was just a bad day. I assumed it was something to do with a boy she liked, but I really don't know. I figured I'd talk to her more when I got home." Patricia buried her face against her husband's shoulder.

Angus would have to interview Fiona's friends. Hopefully one of them would know why she was upset. Did her mood earlier in the day have anything to do with her murder? Did someone threaten her? "Was Fiona dating anyone?" Angus asked.

Alan Bloomquist shook his head. "No, she'd broken up with a guy a few months ago because he moved out of town, but I don't think she'd started seeing anyone else. At least she hadn't told me if she was."

Patrica nodded. "She hadn't mentioned anyone to me. I know the small group of friends she hangs with includes several boys, but I don't think she was interested in any of them."

"Before I leave, I'd like to get the names of the friends you know of hers." Angus figured if anyone knew what was going on in Fiona's life it would be her closest friends. "Did she have a best friend?"

"Becky Gladstone. She and Fiona have been thick as thieves since they were in elementary school." Patricia shook her head as she looked at her husband. "How do we tell her about this? God, how do we tell anyone?"

"I'm only worried about why this happened. I couldn't care less about the rest." Alan stared at Angus. "Someone killed my daughter. I want to know who and why."

"So do I, Sir. And we will do everything we can to find those answers for you," Angus promised. "She was your only child?" He hated asking questions while their daughter's body was still being retrieved, and usually would wait until things calmed down, but right now, he felt it was best to keep them busy and talking so they wouldn't focus on what was going on out back. No parent needed to see their child placed in a body bag and hear the horrible sound of the zipper closing.

"Yes, we were never lucky enough to have more." Alan hugged his wife. "She's all we had."

Patricia cried too hard to speak. Angus understood. He'd do an official interview in the coming days with her once she'd calmed down a bit.

"Detective, the stuff to make dinner is on the counter, but nothing was started," the officer he'd sent to the kitchen told him. "Looks like her purse, cell phone, and backpack are sitting on the table."

"Make sure we get pictures and bag those for forensics." Angus hoped her phone would hold some kind of evidence. He turned his attention to Alan again. "We're going to also need to see your daughter's bedroom and any computer or digital devices she might have used recently."

"She's got a laptop. It's either in her room or in her bag," Alan told him. "There's a family computer downstairs, but she hasn't been on that in a long time. Not since we got her one of her own. She also has one of those Kindle devices. I don't know how often she used it."

Angus made notes, not wanting to forget anything. "Did Fiona have a job or anything?"

Alan shook his head. "She was taking several dance classes over the summer. She's always liked dancing. We told her as long as she was getting good grades and was staying out of trouble, she didn't have to get a job unless she wanted one."

"Her grades were good?" Angus asked.

"Not as good as they used to be, but she passed all her classes last year. We pushed her a little to do better but weren't really concerned." Alan shrugged.

"How was your relationship with her?" Angus asked, trying hard to hear what was going on in the backyard, but not alert the parents so they'd want to go out there.

"I'd guess the same as any family with a teenager. We fight about things sometimes, see the world in different ways, but still managed to get along for the most part. It wasn't uncommon for Fiona to help her mother with things or for them to go shopping together. She wasn't like some kids who refuse to spend any time with their parents. I'm ashamed to admit Patricia was closer to her than I was. But that was because I usually work a lot." Alan kissed his wife's forehead as she still sobbed against his shoulder. "What happens now?"

Angus sighed. He always hated having to tell family members that the medical examiner would be doing an autopsy. No one wanted to think about their loved one being cut open that way. Yet, it was what was going to happen. He could only do his best to word it in a way that might make it easier to hear. "The medical examiner will try to find out exactly what happened to Fiona. We'll investigate the scene and interview her friends. You don't happen to have security cameras set up anywhere, do you?"

"We do. They cover the front porch and part of the driveway. We have a doorbell camera that shows us who is at the door when it rings." Alan glanced over at the hallway as more members of the crime scene unit walked in. "Can I go back there and see?"

"It's best if you don't," Angus warned.

"I need to see…" Alan stood. "I have to know." He quickly rushed from the room.

Angus let him go. Franks was back there and would handle Alan if he lost control or got in the way. He focused on Patricia, who held her head low, wiping tears with an overused tissue. He quickly reached for another from the box on the table and handed it to her. "Can I call someone to come be with you?"

She shook her head, then glanced up and took a deep breath. "I guess my sister. I can call her. Can you get my purse for me?"

"Of course." He stood and went to the front door, finding it sitting on a small table. He grabbed it and took it back to her. "Before you call, can you give me the time of your last contact with Fiona?"

Her hands shook as she dug out her phone and hit several buttons. She read something and tears again started streaming from her eyes. In a shaky voice she said, "Fiona texted me at eight minutes after three. She'd probably just gotten home. Her dance class ended at two-thirty."

"She drives?" Angus inquired.

Patricia nodded. "The red Toyota out front is hers."

Angus made a note. "Go ahead and call your sister. I'll be right back." He stood, turning to the officer standing in the room. "Keep her in here. I won't be long."

The officer nodded. "No problem, Detective."

Walking out back, Angus made his way to Franks' side. "This is the second teen killed today. It's possible they knew each other."

Franks eyes widened. "The suicide case you mentioned when we talked on the phone?"

Angus nodded. "It wasn't suicide. Lance said the girl was strangled." He watched as Mack zipped the bag with the body inside. The large bucket of dried cement sat to the side. It would also be bagged and taken into evidence along with the chain they'd cut that had held the body and bucket together.

"You think they're connected?" Franks asked.

Angus shrugged. "Timing is interesting."

"And I thought I'd have a nice quiet night." Franks rolled his shoulders. "I'll get officers to talk to the neighbors. Maybe someone saw something."

Angus nodded to Alan Bloomquist, who stood alone, staring at the body bag that contained his daughter. "I've questioned the parents a bit, but we'll come back tomorrow for a formal interview. As of now, I know the house has cameras out front." He went on to tell Franks everything he'd learned while speaking to the parents. "Once we collect evidence, we'll call it a night and start in the morning." He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Lance, telling him that he'd be late and not to wait up.

"I've got court in the morning. You'll be on your own until I finish up there," Franks reminded him.

"Shoot, that's right. Well, I'll find out what I can. If these cases are connected, we need to figure out how and why. I can meet with the family alone if you're stuck at the courthouse all day." Angus smiled at the heart emoji that he got back from Lance.

"I'm hoping to be out of there by noon." Franks stepped back as Mack and one of the officers pushed the gurney carrying the body toward the gate that led into the backyard. The crime scene unit was still around, taking pictures and doing what they did best.

"You don't have to be here. I'm just going to collect the victim's electronics and see if we have anything on the cameras." Angus hoped he wouldn't be on scene too late.

"I'm good for a few. Let's go find her phone and see if she kept any kind of journal in her room." Franks turned to go inside.

Angus followed, pausing at Alan Bloomquist's side. "Come on inside. Your wife will need you." He gently guided the man back into the house, hating that one of the last memories the man would have of his daughter was her being placed in a body bag.

It was going to be a long night, and with two murders to solve and Franks back in court tomorrow, he'd have his hands full. The fact the dead were kids made it even harder, and he was sure the news would find these cases interesting once word got out, which would just add more problems. The sooner he found the killers, the sooner his life would get back to normal.