Reckless

Part 4

Tom and Cassy settled themselves into Gwen Moore's visitors' chairs for a second time that afternoon. "I didn't expect you back so soon. So what can I do for you, Sergeants?" the pleasant woman asked.

Cassy glanced at Tom and then spoke. "We understand that you have a photographer on staff. We'd like to talk to him about Sarah Barbara."

"Marty? I'm sorry, but he's not in right now."

"Where is he?" Tom pressed.

"Home, I suppose. I didn't have any appointments for him today. There's no reason to pay him for work if there's nothing to do."

"Could you give us his home address?" Tom handed the woman a sheet of paper from his notepad. "We'd like to talk to him today, if possible."

The woman frowned. "Is he a suspect?"

"No, Ms. Moore. We would just like to talk with him," Cassy clarified.

The woman mulled over her options. She then opened the drawer next to her desk. Pulling out a file, she examined the cover sheet and then wrote the address down. "Here's his address and phone number." She handed the note back to Tom.

"Thank you. We'll be in touch." The tall detective and his partner exited the office and returned to the police sedan.

"So, shall we talk to Marty now or after the kids?" Cassy asked her partner.

Tom glanced at his watch. "It's almost 3:00. Why don't you drop me off at my car and then we'll go to the school. We can go to Ayres' after that and then call it a day."

"Sounds like a plan," Cassy agreed.

"So, you don't know where Sarah went?" Cassy asked the 15 year-old red head.

The young girl shook her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. "No. She just said that she had a chance to become a big star and that her parents were holding her back because they were jealous."

"Did she say what the chance was?" Tom probed.

The young girl's eyes met the detective's. "No. Just that. . .just that it was an easy way for her to get famous."

"Thank you, Lisa. We appreciate you taking the time to talk to us. We know how hard this is for you." Cassy held out a hand to Sarah's friend. "If you think of anything that might help us, would you tell Mrs. Cantrell. She'll give us a call."

The girl swallowed a sob and nodded her head. She then stood and walked meekly out of the room.

Cassy collapsed into the chair. "Okay, that was fun," she sighed.

Tom rubbed tired eyes. "Nothing," he grumbled. "We've talked to nine girls and nothing. None of them know a thing about what happened to Sarah."

"And all of them seemed truly upset about her death," Cassy completed.

Tom looked at his watch. "It's almost 6:30. You want to grab a bite to eat before going over to Martin Ayres place?"

Cassy shook her head. "Let's get it over with and then we can go home. I need some down time."

Tom agreed and the two returned to their separate vehicles. Cassy pulled out of the school parking lot, waving at Tom as she drove by. The look on her face was clear. Tom shook his head and closed his eyes. The race between the two had started again. The Mustang stopped at the stop sign and then turned right, speeding away.

Looking at Martin Ayres address, he knew that Cassy would take the most direct route from the school to the residence. Then he grinned. The most direct route, however, was not the best route. . .at least not now. The bridge that had to be crossed on that route was down to one lane and traffic would be backed up. Tom started the engine of the Volkswagon and made his way out of the parking lot, turning left at the stop sign. If he was right, he would arrive at Martin Ayres address a good ten minutes before Cassy.

Tom approached the door to the house. He turned around and looked up and down the street. There was no sign of Cassy. Grinning, Tom knew that his partner had fallen victim to a traffic jam on the bridge.

The detective turned back to the door and knocked. There was no answer. Trying the knob, he felt the resistance of a lock. He knocked on the door again, but silence was the only response.

Then his cell-phone rang. "Ryan."

"It's me." He recognized Cassy's voice. "Dispatch just patched through a call from Gwen Moore. She said that Martin Ayres is coming into the office to talk to her. I'm on my way now. Where are you?"

Tom sighed. "At his place. . .where else would I be?"

"Well, partner, get your butt in gear and meet me at Gwen's." He could hear the blond detective laugh in triumph.

"I just want it to go on the record that I won."

"Not the way I look at it. I'm only two blocks from her studio and you're. . .what? Ten minutes away at best." He could picture the cocky grin on her face just by the tone of her voice.

"You're a cheat, St. John," Tom retorted as he wedged his body back into the Volkswagon. He disconnected the phone without another word, intent on making his way to Gwen Moore's studio as quickly as possible.

A few minutes had passed when the phone rang for a second time. "Ryan."

"How far away are you?" Cassy asked.

Tom glanced at his watch. "At least another five minutes."

"I'm gonna go on in and get some of the preliminary items out of the way."

"Fine. . .don't wait for me," her partner groused.

He heard her laugh in reply and then the phone was disconnected for a second time.

When he was a mile away from his destination the phone rang a third time. He hit the connect button, trying to think of an appropriate comeback to the partner he knew was on the other end of the call.

Before he could say anything, Cassy's voice came over the line, sounding breathless. "She's dead."

"What?" Tom responded, confused by the words.

"Gwen Moore is dead."

"Cassy, where are you?"

"In the studio. I'm gonna search the. . ." Her voice cut off.

"Cass?" Tom shouted, frustrated by his distance from the studio.

"Stop! Police!" Cassy's exclamation echoed in his ear. Then the booming sound of a discharged gun came over the line. Another shot followed.

"Cass! What's happened? What's going on?" Tom yelled, pushing his foot to the floor, speeding the car down the final blocks to Moore's office. There was no response from the woman. Instead, the phone disconnected.

Tom hit the direct dial for dispatch. "Officer needs assistance. Shots fired. 2302 Bayview Drive." The dispatcher confirmed the information and sent the call out.

Fighting down panic, Tom skidded the Volkswagon to a stop in front of the studio and raced to the entrance. Reaching for the gun tucked away in its holster at his waist, he pulled it free.

Cautiously pushing the door open, he stepped into the empty lobby. The fading sunset of the evening cast eerie shadows in the dark room. "Cass?" he shouted. There was no response. The building was silent. The only light came from the owner's office, down the hallway. Making his way to the source, he stopped in the doorway, his breath catching in his throat.

Gwen Moore was sprawled on the floor, blood marring the side of her once pretty features. Her open, unseeing eyes told of the obvious. The woman was dead. The silence of the building also revealed a fearful fact to Tom. His partner was not there.

End Part 4

To Part 5