Chapter 28
The trio sat down at the upscale Italian restaurant. Lee and Eric both looked uncomfortable in their blazers while Jenny squirmed in her sleek dress. After the snooty waiter dropped off drinks and breadsticks, Eric offered a toast.
“To Officer Sasha Jenkins. A good friend and a good cop. Wish you could be here tonight.”
They all clinked glasses and sipped in her memory. An untouched fourth glass sat beside Officer Lee with a chair leaned against the table. Lee cleared his throat, pushing aside the potentially un-macho emotions, and raised his glass again.
“To the newly engaged couple. You may have met under bad circumstances but you two are the happiest couple of folks I’ve ever met. You two belong together as surely as the Pope is Catholic. May you have nothing but joy in your life together.”
Sips all around and the night dissolved into its usual frivolity. The pair of policemen joked about dumb criminals, possible sentences for the gunman, misunderstandings with hookers, ex-girlfriends that Jenny was much better than (her favorite subject), the potential Jenkins had, McGill’s recovery, the wedding, the fact that Jenny’s bust was more impressive each day (the guys seemed to have forgotten she was there for that one) and how many kids the couple would have.
“I’m just saying that if you are going to have kids you two should start right away. McGill isn’t as young as he looks Jenny.” Lee commented into his beer.
“I’m still younger than you, Lee.” Eric argued. “And we haven’t discussed kids yet.”
“Since I would be the one having them, maybe I should jump in here guys. I think for now we should focus on one step at a time. We just got engaged an hour ago; I don’t even have a ring yet.”
Officer Lee patted down his pockets and produced a tiny navy blue felt box. He held it out to Eric.
“Almost forgot you needed this.” He said as calmly as he ordered extra breadsticks.
Jenny Grand’s right eyebrow perked up and she watched the box pass to Eric’s hands.
“Eric?”
He turned to her and opened the lid revealing an antique silver ring. A small but bright diamond reflected the mood lighting of the restaurant. Eric removed the polished but worn piece of jewelry and placed it on Jenny’s finger.
“I asked Lee to hold it for me about a month ago. The next day I got shot so it didn’t feel like the right time to propose. I meant to do it right, but today got sort of swept up in the moment.”
He kissed her knuckles and Jenny felt herself at risk of a real-life swoon. She looked from the ring to her fiancé’s face.
“It’s beautiful.” She murmured. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Eric smiled and kissed Jenny on the lips. Lee sipped his beer and grinned.
“Tell her about the ring, McGill.” Lee chimed in.
Eric beamed and Jenny saw his eyes were full of emotion and tears.
“This was my Mom’s ring. My Dad asked my grandmother’s permission to use it to propose. She gave it to me before she passed away a few years ago.”
The killer broke down. She clung to the love of her life and let the happiness of the moment wash over her. She let her guard drop. Eric loved her this much, she could love him enough to cease killing. Maybe one day she would even tell him the truth. But not today. Today was about the future, not the past.
***
“Mom, Eric proposed last night.” Jenny spoke into the phone.
A shriek erupted from the other end of the phone.
“Jenny that is wonderful! And a policeman? I bet he has great insurance and looks good in a uniform.”
The rustling of a phone being half covered almost drowned out the next words.
“Fred, Jenny is on the phone. That cop who got shot is going to marry her. I know! Can you believe it? I don’t know about children, let me ask.”
“Mom, we haven’t talked about kids yet; Eric and I only got engaged twelve hours ago. We’ll talk about that later.”
Jenny dumped her laundry on the bed and rifled through it for her work clothes. She clicked on speakerphone and tossed the phone on the pile of clothing as she dressed. The heirloom ring glittered faintly on her left hand.
“When Jenny? When you are planning a wedding or tied down in a marriage to some man you hardly know?” The cell demanded.
“Mom, we’ve been dating for nearly a year and living together for a few months. I know Eric. And we can talk about kids in a day or two.”
Jenny tripped on her slacks and cussed.
“Sweetie, don’t use that language.”
“Sorry Mom. Look I just wanted to let you and Dad know. I must get to work. Love you.”
“Okay honey. Love you too. Think about what I said, you’re still young and I want lots of cute grandbabies while I’m not too old to spoil them.”
“Okay Ma. Bye.”
She hung up the phone and knew her cousins, aunts, and distant relatives would be hearing the news within seconds. The killer pinned on her nametag and pulled her hair up. She thought of taking along her murder kit.
Jenny knew it was a bad idea. Besides, she’d been so tired lately she knew a hunt was beyond her. Shaking her head, Jenny picked up her keys and went to the store.
***
Eric shuffled around the house in search of scissors. He grumbled about excessive childproofing on packages. All he wanted was to open his memory card packaging. Figment purred as he slept against the craft room door.
“Jenny is bound to have a pair of scissors in there. Figment, you don’t think she’ll mind if I borrow them, do you?” He said as he scratched the feline’s head.
The cat rolled over and reached out its paws for the cop’s hand. After thirty seconds of petting, McGill moved the pudgy cat to the side and opened the door to the basement. Surely his loving fiancé wouldn’t mind.
Eric looked over the table and opened a few drawers. Pens, markers, and glue were available in abundance. Scissors not so much. He beamed as he glanced at the bevy of artistic supplies she had gathered down here.
“Guess I’m marrying a creative type. Wonder what she makes.” He said to the bare walls.
McGill was careful to put everything back exactly where he picked it up. He didn’t want Jenny thinking he was snooping in her private space. A stack of pictures fell, and he bent to retrieve them. Eric noticed a beaten toolbox.
“Jackpot.”
He pulled out the steel box and popped open the clasps. Inside sat an assortment of junk. There was a rock, a scrap of wood, a flattened coin, a receipt, and some other odds and ends. The only decent thing in the box was a small silver ring. Eric McGill examined the loop.
Inside was an inscription.
For Clara Something about the ring felt wrong. The box of brick-a-brak made the police officer uneasy. He started to close the lid; these were Jenny’s private belongings. The sensation of missing something big forced Eric to change his mind.
He looked more closely at the trinkets. The receipt was for popcorn at a movie theater. He looked over the fading details for a clue as to why the box felt wrong to him. McGill noted the date, and something clicked.
“No fucking way. This has to be just a coincidence.”
He dropped the paper into the dinged case, latched it shut, and set the room back the way it had been. Rushing up the stairs with his palm over his mended wound, Eric tore through his case notes. Flipping pages, he found what he was looking for.
The date of the second murder matched the receipt. And it was the same theater. The fourth victim’s name had been Clara. A construction site for the second murder—maybe that’s where the 2x4 nub came from.
Eric sat down on the floor. It felt like his skull was about to split open and gush shock and awe all over the walls. So many pieces fit. The serial killer case had gone cold when he’d begun dating Jenny. She had a connection to at least one of the victims as well as the poorly framed patsy through her job.
Eric McGill couldn’t believe he was considering this. A fiery rage built up. Jenny wasn’t capable of this. How could he think she was a cold-blooded murderer because of a few pieces of junk? He threw his old notebook into the trash can. Maybe she was doing an art piece of oddments.
Ignoring his instincts, Officer McGill decided to work out and forget the discovery. He loved Jenny; there had to be a simple explanation for what he’d found. Eric patted the lounging cat near his feet. Surely, if she was a serial killer Jenny wouldn’t have a sweet cat for a pet; she’d have tortured and killed it for fun. His memory card remained victoriously unopened.