Murder to Go

That had to be it! "Okay! I understand! I can see what you're saying. It makes sense, but since I don't think he's guilty, I might notice something the police dismissed."

"That's my girl," he said, his voice full of warmth.

"Thanks, Hunter! I owe you another one!"

"That's three," he said, his voice slightly teasing.

I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. "Just put it on my tab."

After hanging up with Hunter, I called Coffee w/ Cream. I let the phone ring until it went to voice mail. The shop should be in the afternoon lull, so the fact someone didn't answer worried me. My brow crinkling, I tried again. I was about to hang up again when somebody picked up the phone.

"Coffee with Cream! Hold please!"

I held the phone to my ear for what seemed like forever before Janet picked up again. "Coffee with Cream!"

"Janet? It's Cam. What's going on?"

"A little busy. There are about a hundred cub scouts in here."

"A hundred?" I cried. Coffee w/ Cream only had 12 tables. The walls must be bulging.

She sighed. "Maybe not that many, but a lot."

Janet normally handled the afternoon shift alone because it was the slowest time, but she knew I was only twenty minutes away if things started getting crazy.

"Do I need to see if I can get you some help?"

She sighed again. "No. I've got it. Traffic was normal until the scouts showed up. They're good kids... just loud and rambunctious. Don't worry about it."

"Okay. If you get overwhelmed call me and I'll try to get you some help."

"Okay. Thanks Cam. Anything else? Another customer just walked in."

"No. Thanks for hanging in there. Call me if you need me."

"I will," Janet said and then was gone.

I next called Keiko. "Cam! I've been waiting for you to call. How's Ken?"

"Not good. It looks bad, Keiko."

"Oh... no..." she breathed. "Do you need me to come up there?"

I shook my head even though she couldn't see me. "No. There's nothing you can do. I'm not sure there's anything I can do, but I'm going to try."

"Were you able to talk to him?"

"Yes. He--"

"Did he tell you why they arrested him?"

"He didn't know, but--"

"What do you mean he didn't know?" she cried. "They didn't tell him?"

"No, apparently not. I did find out, after talking to his lawyer, the police have a lot of evidence against him."

"What!" she cried. "What evidence? Do you think he did it?"

"Like I said, it looks bad. If I didn't know Ken, I could easily believe he did it based on the evidence."

"That makes no sense!"

"I know... but the police are so damn sure he's guilty, they're not even investigating."

Keiko was quiet for a long moment. "Can you do that thing you did with your mom and help him?"

"I don't know. It doesn't work that way. I'm going to do all I can, but I'm going to need another couple of days. Is that okay?"

"Sure! Absolutely! I'll handle anything that comes up. Just help Ken if you can."

"I'm going to try."

"You're sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

"I don't think so, but if I think of something, I'll give you a call."

"You'd better... but I still think I need to come up there."

"No. Don't. I think I'm going to be poking the hornet's nest enough by myself. If you show up too, all that's likely to do is get us both thrown out of town... or in jail."

She was quiet for a moment. "If you're sure."

"I'm not sure of anything right now except everyone in town has already decided Ken is guilty."

She sighed heavily. "Alright. Call me tonight and tell me what you found out?"

"Absolutely."

"Good luck, Cam."

"Thanks... I'm going to need it."

The moment I hung up with Keiko, I called Mrs. Mazerin. I thought the phone was going to go to voice mail when Ken's mother answered. "Cam?"

"I wanted to let you know that I'm in Gardner and I've talked to Ken."

"How is he? Frank and I are coming up there Friday to talk to him ourselves."

"He's scared, but otherwise alright."

"Thank God."

"Listen... I need a favor."

"Cam, now's not a good time--"

"I know," I interrupted, "but this is for Ken. Have you gotten a lawyer for him yet?"

"Yes. He should be there today."

I considered for a moment how to ask my question. "I've spoken to his current attorney... and I think... maybe... you need to let her defend him."

"Cam... I know you and Ken were close, but you need to stay out of this."

"I'm trying to help. If you don't want to use the public defender, then will you at least ask the guy you've hired to let me help?"

"What can you possibly do? You need to let the professionals handle it."

"I don't know. I may not be able to do anything, but everyone up here, including his current attorney, thinks he's guilty. She's said she'd do what she could, but she admitted the case against him is strong... very strong. They found the murder weapon in his possession."

"What! I don't believe it! Ken wouldn't kill anyone!"

"I know! The question becomes, how did the weapon get in his room?"

"How do you know that?"

"That's what I'm telling you... his current lawyer is... going to let me try to help her. Will the new guy?"

"Cam... I know you want to help, but stay out of it. Let the lawyer handle it."

"Fine," I snapped, "but will you ask him to review the case before he takes it, and if he doesn't think there's anything he can do, will you at least consider letting me help? If he says there's nothing he can do, what harm can it do?"

"You could make it worse."

"How?" I cried. "How could I possibly make this situation any worse? Maybe I can do for him what I did for Mom."

Mrs. Mazerin was quiet for a long time. "I'll think about it, but until then, stay out of it... for Ken's sake."

"Okay," I lied.

"I have to go," she said an instant before the call went dead.

I stared at the phone a moment before I dialed again. "Hi," Aunt Vicki said. "Are you still in Gardner?"

"Yes. That's why I called. I need to be able to use my gift. Is there anything you can tell me, anything I can do, to make this work for me when I need it?"

There was a long pause. "Cam, I told you, this is a dangerous time. If you do have the gift of... time travel for the lack of a better word... we don't understand it. We haven't had a chance to study how it works. What happens if you become... unstuck... is that a good way of putting it? You could become unstuck in your own time, and who knows what that means?"

"Aunt Vicki, I need this. Ken is in a bad spot and could spend the rest of his life in jail if I can't help him. What did the legends say?"

"I don't know! I'm not a historian! The only reason I knew anything about it at all is because the man that had that gift, if he was real, is a legend. Like Santa Clause. Everybody's heard of Santa Clause, but few people know anything about him other than he delivers presents to kids, right? Who knows how much of Santa Clause is real, and how much is made up. Caomhainn is the same way. Supposedly he could move back and forth through time. I've heard he could move his body, others say it was just his spirit. Nobody knows, and that's why I don't want you to use your gift until you can control it. What if the legend is true and you somehow move your body into the future, or the past. What if you can't get back? What happens then? I don't think anyone knows."

I felt the sheen of sweat form on my face. What if I somehow ended up being eaten by a dinosaur? That'd be a real downer, and who would help Ken, but it was a risk I had to take.

"Just tell me how to do it."

"I can't tell you." Victoria paused. "I'm not saying I won't tell you, I'm saying I can't tell you. Remember the night we told you about the gift? How I made the picture move? Remember how I told you to curl your finger?"

I nodded to myself. I remembered from high school science that I could curl my tongue up but some of my classmates couldn't. Those that couldn't wanted to know how I, and the other members of the class could. None of us could explain how we did it... and didn't understand why they couldn't. I knew I could have a vision... because I'd done it twice already... but I didn't know which muscle to flex.

"Okay. I guess I'll just have to figure it out on my own."

"Cam, please don't mess around with this!"

I huffed. "Okay. I won't," I said. It was easy to agree when I couldn't do it anyway.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I heard Aunt Vicki's sigh of relief through the phone. "Good. Thank you. Someone is at my door, so I have to go. Love you, Kiddo."

"Love you too," I said before ending the call.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. If I couldn't reach out with the gift, I could still do it the hard way. I'd managed to figure out who killed Mom without the use of my gift, so I could do it again to help Ken. I spent a few minutes using my phone to look up Gregory Riis in Gardner, MI. There was only one entry, but the phone number was blanked out unless I paid for a subscription.

Growling in frustration, I tossed my phone aside and started the truck. It was back to the detention center to see Ken before he was moved to county. He'd know the address, and maybe Greg's phone number.

I stood in front of the house's leaded glass front door, working up the courage to knock. I'd barely had time to speak to Ken before he was whisked away for processing and transfer to the Houghton County jail. He gave me the address of the Riis home, and I'd given him my solemn promise I'd do everything I could to help him.

The large home was set well back from the highway on a huge, well-manicured yard of lush grass, mature trees, and beautiful ornamental shrubbery. The house was a three-story Victorian mansion, built on a heavy stone foundation, with a wide porch, pale green siding, forest green shutters, and an intricately shingled roof that made patterns. The house was alive with intricate detailing around the windows, porch columns and roof line. It looked like a museum, and though I'd never admit it to anyone, the size of the place, and the money it must cost to maintain it, intimidated me a little.

Taking a deep breath and summoning my courage, I rapped smartly on the wood part of the door, afraid if I broke the glass, it'd cost me a month's salary to have it replaced. I waited... and waited... and was about to rap again when the door opened.

"May I help you?" the man asked.

"Gregory Riis, please."

"I'm Greg Riis."

Greg was tall, with dark hair and eyes. He was big, shading toward overweight, but not in an unpleasant way, with his broad shoulders and thick legs. He was dressed in a pair of comfortable looking tan pants with a sapphire blue shirt and deck shoes with no socks. I'd worked out my spiel on the drive to his house, but now that I was standing in front of him, it all sounded so trite. I swallowed, trying to find my voice.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'd like to talk to you about your sister."

His face hardened. "Perhaps you haven't heard, but she was killed a couple of days ago."

I flushed, feeling for him, knowing from experience how he must be feeling, but I had to find some answers. "Yes, I know, and I'm sorry for your loss, but if you could spare me just a moment of your time, please?"

"You a reporter? You're not from around here."

"No. I'm a friend of Ken Mazerin--" The moment I mentioned Ken, the man's face hardened even more and he began closing the door. I stiff armed the door to prevent him from closing it. "Mr. Riis, please!"

"Let go of the door or I'm calling the cops. I have nothing to say to you or that..." He paused, clearly censoring what he was about to say. "I'm sorry, but I have nothing to say to you. Now leave."

I allowed the door to close. "Mr. Riis! Please! I know Ken didn't kill your sister!" I called as the door shut in my face. I stared at it a moment. "He didn't do it!" I yelled at the top of my voice, hoping Greg could still hear me. "An innocent man is in jail!" I waited, hoping the door would open again, but it didn't.

I stared at the door, trying to think of something I could say that would cause Greg to open the door again, but I came up empty. My lips thinned in annoyance, I turned on my toe and tromped down the steps. I didn't know what I expected. I was stupid to think Greg would invite a close friend of the man he thought kill his sister in for coffee and cake. I shuffled back to my truck, the tiny brown gravel of the drive crunching under my shoes. I slowed as I rounded the nose of my truck to glance at the house, hoping to see Greg's face peeking through the curtains. There was nothing. I yanked the door open and threw myself behind the wheel where I sat for a moment, wondering what to do next. If only I could access my gift somehow. It wouldn't prove anything, but I'd at least have something to start with, and knowledge I could use as leverage to find out more.

Sitting in my truck in the circular drive I closed my eyes, my hands resting on my thighs as I took slow, deep breaths. Wasn't that how people entered a trance? Maybe being this close to the location of Melina's murder would help me.

After waiting for what seemed like a long time, I opened my eyes. I had to go to the bathroom, and I might as well have been a broken radio for all the signals I was picking up. With a sigh of frustration, I started the truck and crept along the drive before turning onto the highway.

The wind blowing in my hair, I was driving back to Gardner with no clear idea of my next step, the tires of the truck humming their tune, when I passed a police car going the opposite direction. I saw the brake lights of the cruiser flash on out of the corner of my eye and watched in the rearview as the car swung around to give chase. As the white and grey Taurus closed, the lightbar popped on, the red and blue lights dazzlingly bright.

I felt a rush of impending doom. Not because I was speeding--I was only doing about five over the speed limit--but because of what happened to Ken. This was exactly how his ordeal started. He was driving along, minding his own business, when he was pulled over by a cop.

I briefly considered flooring the truck and running, but quickly dismissed the idea as ridiculous. When the police caught me, and I had no doubt they would catch me, they'd throw me under the jail. I signaled right and slowed slightly, before pulling over into the weeds at the first wide spot I found.

The police car pulled in behind me and I kept my hands on the steering wheel. My stomach was doing flips as I waited with my truck half on, half off the road, wondering what was going on and why the officer was waiting. Finally, a young blond man stepped out of the car and approached. Unlike with Ken, his sidearm was still in his holster and he appeared to be relaxed.

"License and registration, please," he said as he stopped beside my door. The man was built like a football player, with a thick neck, huge arms, and a broad muscular chest. He obviously spent a lot of time in the gym.

"What's the problem, officer?" I asked as I pulled my purse to me, removed my wallet, and began searching for my license. It didn't escape my notice he didn't answer my question.

My license was easy to find, and I handed it to him, but finding the registration took a little searching in the glovebox. I leaned across the bench seat, and after spending far too long throwing old registrations, tire and battery warranty sheets, and other assorted junk into the floor, I finally found the current registration. I straightened and handed him that as well. He said nothing as he took it, and I watched as he looked them over.

"You know Mr. Mazerin?" he asked, looking up from examining the documents.

"He's a friend of mine, yes."

The officer sniffed and drew himself up straighter. "We've had a complaint about you bothering Mr. Riis and trespassing on his property."

"I did no such thing!"

"Did you speak to Mr. Riis?"

"Yes..." I said slowly.

"Did he ask you to vacate his property?"

"Yes."

"Did you leave when he asked you too?"

"I did."

"He reported that you sat in your truck in the driveway for a long time after he asked you to leave. Is that true?"

I swallowed hard, not liking where this was going. "Yes."

"Then you were trespassing. I'm going to let you off with a warning this time, but I think it would be best if you leave town. Today."

"Are you serious..." I glanced at his name badge, "Officer Salada? You're running me out of town?" I wondered if he was related to Terri Salada. It was such an odd name that he almost had to be. He was probably her son or grandson.

"No ma'am. I have no authority to do that. I'm just giving you some advice... advice you'd be wise to take." He handed the license and registration back to me.

The moment I touched the items--

I was standing on the side of a road. Salada was standing close to a pretty woman with raven black hair, his police car parked behind a burgundy Dodge Durango, the cruiser's beacons flashing. It was dark and the surrounding trees were dancing in crazy patterns created by the strobing red and blue lights.

Their voices were faint, as if I were listening to them from a great distance, but if I strained, I could just make out their words. It was clear from their tone and body language, they were arguing.

"Just stay away from me, Eric! I mean it!"

"Melina, listen to me! We--"

"There is no we! There was never a we! We went out a couple of times in high school. That's it! Finished! End of story!"

"What do you see in that pencil neck geek, anyway? I could snap him in half with one hand."

"For one he gives me space when I want it, unlike you! What is it with you? How much plainer can I make it? Stop calling me! Stop coming to my house! Stop bothering me! Why don't you go find someone else to harass for a while?"

"I love you, Melina!"

"Well, I don't love you, okay? So... stop... bothering... me!" She pivoted toward her SUV when he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him.

"I'm never going to give up on us, Melina. Never! Someday, you'll see, we belong together. The whole town knows it!"

"Which is why I'm ready to get out of this Hicksville! Everyone is in everyone else's business... your grandmother most of all. I should have never let Ken talk me into coming home! The only good thing about coming back is it reminds me of why I wanted to leave in the first place!"

"It's that boyfriend of yours! He's the one filling your head full of ideas!"

"Like I have a right to a little privacy? Like I should be able to live my life without being stalked? Yeah, I guess he is," she snarled as she jerked her arm free and stomped to the door of the Durango.

"I'm not letting you go, Melina!" Eric called to her back. "I can make you happy! You'll see! I'm not letting some nerd take you away from me!"

Melina slammed the door to her Dodge--

And I was sitting in my truck again. Officer Eric Salada was just releasing the license and registration. What had felt like several minutes was actually a tiny fraction of a second.

"Have a nice day," Officer Salada said as he stepped back from my door. After a moment, he spoke again. "Ms. Wicker, you're free to go." I was struggling. It was like I was in a dream, I was nauseous, and I had a headache. "Ms. Wicker... are you okay?"

My brain finally engaged and my world began to right itself. "What? Oh! Yes, sorry. Thank you."

As Officer Salada turned toward his car, I placed the license and registration on the seat beside me and reached for the key. While neither my headache nor the nausea was as bad as the last two times this happened to me, I still felt out of sorts... and my hand was shaking so badly I had difficulty twisting the ignition. I was putting the truck in gear when Salada pulled out from behind me and raced away. I slowly crept onto the road and drove with my right foot barely pressing the throttle, still shaken buy what I'd seen and heard.