went back to helping his customer. While Cam finished up, Daniel surveyed the store. Three Star Creations had a name in the city for its unique and inventive pieces.
When the customer finished her purchase and left the store, the man turned to Raul. “What can I do for you?”
Daniel stepped forward and introduced himself and the other detective. “You know about the murder of Joyce Murphy.”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe what I saw when I came to work this morning. I’ve been sitting with Diane and Elena all morning.”
“Can you tell me anyone who might want to hurt the victim?”
“No one. Of course, I wasn’t close to Joyce. She kept to herself. Wasn’t very friendly.”
“Did she ever mention anything about her past?” Daniel wondered if Joyce had told anyone about her time in prison.
“Nothing.”
“Is there any incident that you can think of where Joyce had a run-in with someone? Or maybe she mentioned someone who was angry with her.”
“No.”
“No boyfriends?”
“She never mentioned anything to me, and I never saw anyone.”
Daniel handed him his business card. “If you think of anything else, please give us a call.”
He nodded.
As they walked to the next store, Daniel muttered, “So far all we know is the woman was perfect.”
“And that bothers me,” Raul answered.
It was a red flag for Daniel, too.
Daniel and Raul walked the length of the alley behind the shops on the square. Cars from the shop owners and their employees dotted the alley. Parked behind the back door of Past Treasures was a cleaning truck. Daniel walked up the three steps that led to the door. The top step broadened out to make a small landing.
Carefully, he studied the back lock.
“Do you think it was a random robbery?” Raul asked. He glanced up and down the alley.
“Could be, but why not break into the jewelry store or the art gallery? Wouldn’t it be easier to fence jewels or one of the smaller paintings than some antique chest?”
“Naw, you couldn’t give away that art, but you might be able to get rid of the jewelry.”
Daniel studied the back door. “I don’t see any signs of the lock being forced.”
Raul joined Daniel on the top step. “So a pro did this, not an amateur or some teenager high on something.”
“Sounds right to me. Let’s check the statistics on robberies in the area, but I don’t think it was random. I think whoever broke in was after something in that shop.”
The back door opened and a man stepped out with a steam cleaner. He looked up and stopped. “The store’s closed today.”
“I was so sorry to hear about Joyce.” A woman’s voice floated out of the open back door.
Daniel pulled out his ID and showed it to the man. He shrugged and walked to his truck.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” the woman continued.
“No, but thank you. There’s nothing at the moment.”
Daniel recognized Elena’s voice.
He knocked on the back door to announce their presence.
Elena and her mother and another woman turned toward the sound.
“Detective.” Diane Jackson moved forward. “Is something wrong? Do you need more information?” A hint of panic colored her voice.
He smiled to ease her anxiety. “We’ve come to look at your shop in the light, to see maybe where the murderer might’ve come from.”
All three women paled.
Daniel turned to the woman he didn’t know and introduced himself. “And you are?”
“Susan Marks. My husband and I own Mama Rosa’s on the corner of the square.”
“Did you know Joyce?”
“Yes, I did. She helped with the homeless shelter. We donated food to the facility, and she helped us take it over there and serve.”
“How long has she been doing that?” Raul questioned.
“The last year and a half.”
“Have you noticed anything unusual about her in the last few weeks?”
“No.” Susan glanced at her watch. “I need to get back for the dinner rush.”
Daniel pulled out his business card and gave it to the woman.
After she left by the back door, he turned to Elena and her mother. “I’d call a locksmith today and have that back lock switched out. Whoever broke in here didn’t have a difficult time. Make it harder for anyone if it happens a next time.”
THREE
Elena opened the door to Joyce’s house. The modest dwelling on the edge of a business district had originally belonged to Phillip Jackson, but he’d sold it to Joyce for the mighty sum of fifteen hundred dollars. That information her mother told her after her father’s funeral had amazed Elena, but as she thought about it, it made perfect sense. Her father was an exceptional man.
Pausing inside the door, Elena let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. The room looked as if a bomb had gone off in the place. Sofa cushions were pulled off and split open. In the corner, the desk had been ransacked, drawers hung awry, papers scattered about.
The kitchen mirrored the living room, with drawers hanging askew and dumped on the floor. Walking down the hall, she peeked into the bathroom. Same song, second verse. In the upstairs bedroom, the bed had been dismantled, the mattress pulled off the bed. The dresser drawers were thrown about the room with the mirror ripped off, the shattered remnants scattered over the top. Numbly, she walked around the room and glanced into the closet. Oddly enough, nothing was disturbed.
Elena pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed 911 as she walked toward the bedroom door. Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway.
Without thinking, she used her purse as a weapon and aimed at the man’s head. She made contact. He stumbled back into the hall and she tried to race by him. He lunged for her and caught her around the waist. Their momentum carried them to the floor. Somehow, he twisted in midair and took the brunt of the blow when they landed. She was ready to fight for her life when she looked into the man’s face and saw Daniel Stillwater. She went limp.
He said nothing.
In
