Bring Me Flowers (Detectives Kane and Alton #2)(21)

“May I have the number and would you mind giving my department permission to check her calls and social media, in case she spoke to anyone prior to her death?” Kane wrote down the details.

“I’ll sign anything you like.” Mr. Parker seemed to crumple into himself. “Just find the person who did this.”

“We’ll find him.” Kane swallowed the lump in his throat. “We would like to give you time to inform your relatives before this is leaked to the press. Keeping it out of the media for twenty-four hours will give us time to investigate. I know you want this person caught but a media frenzy isn’t the best course of action.” He sighed. “The sheriff has advised everyone concerned not to tell anyone. If the killer doesn’t think we have found Felicity, they’ll be careless.”

“I don’t want to give this animal the satisfaction of becoming famous on the damn news.” Mr. Parker shook with anger. “We won’t say a word.”

“I want to see her.” Mrs. Parker gripped Kane’s arm. “Where is my baby?”

Kane looked into the woman’s distressed face. “I can take you to see her now but I only need one of you to positively identify her. Perhaps you might prefer to remain at home?”

“I want to see her.” Mrs. Parker swayed to her feet. “It has to be a mistake.”

Kane bit back a sigh of regret and nodded. “Yes, of course. Felicity is at the local funeral home. Do you want me to lead the way?”

“Yes, please.” Mr. Parker placed one arm around his wife.

Straightening, Kane turned on his heel and left the house.



* * *



Drained after the emotional viewing and signing of the necessary documents, Kane headed back to the office. He had been relieved to see the mortician had made Felicity appear asleep. The sheet covered her completely and came up to her chin to hide the horrendous injuries.

Not having the energy to tangle with Sheriff Alton again, he bypassed her door and went straight to his desk. After scanning the paperwork into the system, he added his notes from the parents’ interview then pushed to his feet and headed for the coffee machine. The pot of freshly brewed coffee filled his nostrils. He should have been famished but had no appetite with the haunting memory of his wife’s shocked eyes fixed in his mind, so much like the expression on Felicity’s young face. He leaned one shoulder against the wall and rubbed the throbbing scar covering the plate in his head.

“You okay?” Jenna moved to his side and placed her small hand on his arm.

He forced his mouth into a small smile, surprised by her change of attitude toward him. “I’ll do. I have entered all the information including my interview notes with the parents into the file. I’ve informed the parents not to talk about the murder to give us some time to chase up the leads we have, and they agreed.”

“Any suspects?”

“Yeah, we will need to follow up on the victim’s boyfriend, apparently they argued recently.” He sighed. “His name is Derick Smith and I have his details. I called his workplace, Miller’s Garage, and spoke to George.”

“Did you ask him if Smith was acting any differently?”

“Yeah and George said he was acting normal.” He scratched his cheek, aware of the stubble. “I’ll need to speak to him but from what George said he is a pretty solid young man. If he argued with Felicity, he would more likely storm off and sulk than kill her.”

“Okay, that’s good enough for me. It’s late and we can interview him in the morning.” Jenna met his gaze. “Anything else?”

Exhausted and with a headache from hell, he nodded then immediately regretted moving his head. “Yeah, I obtained a formal ID on the victim and all the permissions we need to check her calls, et cetera, but telling the parents was brutal.”

“It’s the worst job. It was nice of you to send Wolfe home. I guess he is a little raw after losing his wife?”

“He is not alone.” He met her concerned gaze. “I lost someone close to me as well. You never forget seeing someone you care for dying and you can do jack shit about it. Life sucks sometimes.” He sighed. “Can we change the subject?”

“Do you like Chinese?” Jenna raised one dark eyebrow in question.

“Yeah, but I haven’t tried that new place in town.” He rubbed his stomach. “I’m not really hungry.”

“You will be once you smell the sweet and sour chicken.” Jenna filled two takeout cups with coffee and handed him one. “I’ll leave my cruiser here, if you’ll drive me home. My order should be arriving soon and we can eat at my place. Rowley will lock up and Walters is on the 911 line until six in the morning.”

Suspicious of her sudden change of attitude toward him, he rubbed his chin. Perhaps the idea of having two men confronting her in the morning was a problem, but she was as tough as nails. He relented and smiled. “Okay, I’d like your thoughts on the case.”

“Deal.” She turned as the front door opened with a delivery guy carrying two carry-out bags. “How’s that for timing?”

He pulled out his wallet and offered her some bills, but she ignored him.

“I paid by card over the phone.” She headed toward the front desk. “Your treat next time, okay?”