B4: The Bingo Murders

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

She went by Rose.

She’d been born Margaret Rose O’Hearn. But she’d never gone by Margaret.

That’s what her granddaughter said anyway.

She was originally from the old country. That was Sean’s old country, not Andy’s. Andy’s was Italy. Generations ago, really. But Sean Callahan’s family were all Irish on both sides. He’d told Andy that plenty of times.

It seemed to Andy that when someone reached the ripe old age of ninety-five, their life and death should be peaceful, so there was something particularly wrong with the life of someone Rose’s age ending so violently.

Like the previous victim, Rose had been strangled.

Sean wore his puppy-dog look as he crouched next to what used to be Rose. Her granddaughter, Kathy, had discovered the body when she’d come to do a welfare check. Apparently Rose had been pretty active for her age. Even participating in social media. When she had ceased these activities, Kathy had become concerned.

Sean stood and walked to where Andy waited. It wasn’t that Andy was squeamish or anything. That would be ludicrous in a job like his, and if he had been, his time on the force would have gotten him over that. But no sense in getting in the way. Besides, Andy had seen enough dead bodies to fill a month’s worth of nightmares.

The crime scene unit was already processing the location.

“She looks like she could have been my grandmother.”

That was the thing about the two of them. Sean took everything far more personally than Andy did. Haydon Cliff had had a serial killer before. One that killed the homeless. They hadn’t worked that case much, either of them, as it had been assigned to another detective team. They hadn’t even been partners during that time, but they’d still both been at the station, so Andy knew it had weighed on Sean’s mind when the crimes had been going on. Not that Andy thought this case was anything like that.

Andy nodded. “Poor old girl.”

Sean’s auburn hair was in significant disarray due to his running his fingers through it, as he did when he became agitated, and because it was extremely windy today in Haydon Cliff. Not that Andy was obsessed with knowing every gesture or detail related to Sean. Not really.

Andy Mantegna had been partnered with Sean Callahan in the homicide division of HCPD for a little over six months. In that time, maybe he’d developed a bit of a crush, but it didn’t affect their work.

They’d been called to the house close to eleven at night, and both of them, Andy admitted, looked worse for wear. Both had five o’clock shadows, though Andy probably would win for facial hair. With his Italian heritage, even with shaving every day, he ended up with a jaw full of dark beard by bedtime.

One of the guys at the station, Frank Parker, was retiring and they’d had a party for him the previous night that went well into the wee hours of the morning. Neither of them had had to work that day, but then the call had come in about Rose O’Hearn.

It had been one of those gloomy days Haydon Cliff got during the summer. Overcast and foggy until late afternoon, when the winds picked up and blew it all away until the following day. They were fortunate in that it never got that hot in Haydon Cliff; an average summer day rarely surpassed the low eighties. And there had been plenty of summers where it never even got that warm. During fall and winter, they enjoyed fifties and sixties. The best damn weather anywhere.

And when Andy had been growing up, not much crime had occurred. But things had changed over the years, and pretty drastically. Even more so with the homeless killings. The fact that so many homeless existed in the Cliff—as some locals called it, Andy included—was a big change from his growing-up years.

Sean stared at Andy in that intense way that both aroused him and made him feel like he was under a microscope. Andy was afraid his partner was about to say something that meant there would be no turning back. And yeah, a few words shouldn’t count that much, but Andy dreaded hearing out loud what he, himself, had been thinking.

“This is the second one.”

He winced, even though he’d been expecting it. He opened his mouth to refute it, but then he closed it. He sighed. “The Maria Castro case doesn’t have to be related.”

“No? She was an old lady, too. Lived by herself. Strangled. With her own set of cozy socks with the little tread on them tied together to form the rope.” Sean clenched his jaw. “How does someone do that to the elderly?”

Andy shrugged, though not without feeling. “How does someone murder the homeless? You can’t get much more vulnerable than that.”

“Unless you’re a poor old lady living alone.” Sean bit his lip. “I need a cigarette.”

“Thought you gave up smoking. Aren’t you on that smoking patch or something?”

“That’s why I need one,” Sean replied.

Andy glanced toward the kitchen. “Probably should check on the granddaughter.”

“You go. I’m going outside to get some fresh air.”

“Sean—”

The man held up his hands. “No, I mean it. Fresh air, I swear.”

“All right.” Andy nodded, then headed into the kitchen. Kathy O’Hearn sat at a table, a patrolwoman by her side, standing awkwardly. The patrolwoman looked relieved to see Andy.

In front of the victim’s granddaughter sat a largely untouched cup of tea. Andy wasn’t sure if she’d made it herself or if the officer had.

“It’s okay, Lucy,” he told the patrolwoman. “You can go see what Coty’s doing.”

Andy pulled up a chair next to Kathy O’Hearn. She looked at him, her gaze filled with pain and confusion. “Do you remember me?”

“I’m sorry?”

She sighed. “We went to high school together. Drama class.” She shook her head. “Never mind. Nobody ever remembers me.”

Andy studied her for a moment, then realized that, yeah, he did recall. “Sure. You played Rizzo when the school did Grease.”

“That’s right. I didn’t think you knew.”

He smiled gently. “It’s been a number of years. And under the circumstances…”

“Yeah.” She swallowed. “I-I can’t believe this. Who would want to hurt her?”

“That’s kind of why I’ve come in here. To ask you if there’s anything you can think of. That you remember. When was the last time you saw her? That kind of thing.”

She picked up the teacup, staring into space. “I can’t think of anyone. I know what they ask you. The cops. You, I guess. Did she have enemies? She was ninety-five, for God’s sake. What enemy could she have had?”

“Any disputes with neighbors or—?”

She looked at him sharply, her gaze showing disdain. “Who would strangle an old lady over an argument about the fence between their yards?”

“You’d be surprised. Was there something like that?”

“No. Not that she mentioned anyway. She didn’t get out of the house that much anymore. She used one of those roller things when she did. The walkers? And she went to bingo once a week at the Elks Lodge. Her friend would pick her up for that, because grandma didn’t drive anymore. They took away her license ten years ago when she crashed into the side of the grocery store.”

“How did she get her groceries these days?”

“They deliver now. She liked to be independent, even though she could no longer drive. Do things on her own, instead of move in with me or have me move in with her. And no senior living facility, not even the fancy ones. She’d lived in this house for over fifty years and didn’t want to leave. She was pretty good with the computer. She made me teach her. So she’d go on the grocery store’s website and order and they’d bring her the stuff. I came by to check on her every Friday. To make sure she didn’t need anything. One of the neighbor’s kids took care of her yard.”

“What was her bingo day?”

“Wednesdays.”

“And the last time you saw her?”

“Two Fridays ago.” She gave Andy a look that dared him to say something about it having been two Fridays ago. He wouldn’t have, of course. “This past Friday, some friends and I went to Vegas for the weekend, so I couldn’t come by. I texted her, though, and she responded right back that she was fine.”

“When was the last time you’d heard from her via text?”

“Saturday morning when I texted from the Mirage. I told her I’d won a little and she told me she was glad I was having fun.” Kathy’s mouth turned downward and her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her own clenched hands. “That was-that was the last time. Oh, Grandma.”