Dinner with the Devil

Toni glances out the window. Just hours ago, the sky had been clear, but now thick, black clouds loom, pressing against the motionless air. They look like how I feel, she thinks, turning back to the reports scattered across her desk with a sigh. She'd hit plenty of dead ends in her extensive career, but even those came with threads to pull. This case is leaving her with nothing.

For the umpteenth time, she scans the latest report, willing fresh insight to jump out at her. The sharp trill of her phone cuts through the silence.

"Sergeant Rodriguez," she answers, eyes darting across her cluttered workstation for a pen.

She listens and scribbles down an address. Then, she locks eyes with her partner. Hanging up, she says, "Mrs. Richards was found lying in the garden at the Caldwell estate."

Jamal's face tightens with shock. "Mrs. Richards is dead?"

Toni nods as she stands. "Someone reported a suspicious car parked out front, claiming that it'd been there all morning. A couple of rookies went to check it out. That's when they found her. face down in the garden."

Jamal glances at the list of names in his hand. "It looks like the killer is working their way through her entire guest list."

Toni surveys the mess of files on her desk. The question is who and why?"

"Hopefully the judge will sign off on that warrant for the country club soon."

Toni grabs her coat. "Until then, we have a crime scene to investigate."

Caldwell Estate

The two-story brick mansion is completely blocked off when Toni and Jamal arrive. Yellow tape flaps limply in the growing wind. The forensics team scours the yard, their faces grim. Clearly, nothing promising had turned up.

"Just like the others," Toni murmurs, climbing out of the car.

"I'll see if the neighbors spotted anything," Jamal says, heading across the street.

He knocks. A moment later, an elderly woman answers. She's wearing a baby-blue dress, its loose fabric draping elegantly over her frame. Her silver pixie bob is neat, her makeup professionally applied.

"I'm Detective Jamal Monroe with Atlanta PD. I need to ask you a few questions about what happened today." He pulls out his notebook. "I was told you were the one who called it in."

She nods. "Yes. I saw a woman about my age pull into the drive around eight this morning. She checked the front door, then walked around back. At first, I assumed it was the owner's sister, just checking on the place, so I didn't think much of it and left for the club." Her expression tightens. "That's when I learned Marsha, his sister, passed away last week. When I came home, the car was still parked out front. So I called the police."

"Did you see anyone else? In or around the house?"

"No. Just her."

"Would you mind if I checked your security footage? We might find something you missed while you were out."

Her gaze flicks to his shoes. "Shoes off at the door," she instructs, stepping aside.

***

Toni steps around back to find the medical examiner crouching beside the body. He looks up, shakes his head, and sighs.

"I found one contusion on the right side of her head, consistent with the fall, but that's about all. I'm hoping an autopsy will tell me more."

"What's the time of death?" Toni asks.

"Somewhere between eight and twelve," he replies, standing. "I'll have a clearer picture once I get her to the lab."

"Did you contact your colleagues yet?"

"They're reviewing the cases as we speak."

Toni gives him a sharp nod. "Let me know what they find."

"I will."

"Sergeant," a voice calls.

She turns to find Jeromy heading toward her, carefully holding up a small evidence bag. Inside was a gold earring.

"I found this by the body. I may not get DNA, but I might be able to pull a partial print or, at the very least, track who purchased the set."

"It's a start," Toni murmurs, eyeing the expensive accessory.

"I also found fresh tire tracks in the alley. According to the tread block I'd say it's Michelin." Jeromy shows her a few pictures before he continues. "I'll run the dimensions, through the data base and see what I can find."

Toni exhales, tension easing ever so slightly. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Candler Park Gigi's Italian Restaurant

Gigi's is the talk of the neighborhood. Every Yelp reviewer raves about its authentic dishes and charming atmosphere. Grace Morgan approaches the corner of McLendon to find a quaint white-brick structure with its brown window frames gleaming in the late afternoon light. A red canopy stretches over the doorway, and gold lettering on the dark wood announces its name.

The heavenly scent of garlic and herbs welcomes her as she steps inside. This place is busy, she thinks, scanning the crowded dining room. I may be waiting a while.

Her stomach rumbles in protest at the thought. Embarrassed, she pressed a hand against it as she approaches the host stand. "Table for one, please," she says.

"There's a twenty-minute wait, ma'am."

"That's fine."

Settling onto a brown leather couch near the entrance, she pulled out her phone, absently scrolling through her messages. That's when she hears a smooth, deep voice.

"My reservation is under Mike Mclellan."

Grace glances up, her gaze landing on a tall, lean man with neatly trimmed sandy-blond hair. His baby-blue dress shirt stretches perfectly over broad shoulders, and his jeans fit snugly in all the right places. Eye candy, she muses, allowing herself a moment to admire him.

The host disappears to prepare his table. The man turns and catches her staring. Grace quickly ducks her head, pretending to be engrossed in her phone. To her horror, he strides over.

Sliding into the chair beside her, he leans in slightly, his cologne rich and intoxicating. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Just a few minutes." She nods toward the dining room. "I guess I should've made a reservation."

"Are you meeting someone?"

She sighs. "It's just me today, I'm afraid."

His lips curl into an easy smile. "You're welcome to join me."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's no imposition. You'd actually be doing me a favor; I hate dining alone."

The host returns before she can protest. "Your table is ready, sir."

Mike turns toward her, extending his hand. "So? What do you say?"

Grace hesitates for half a second, then smiles, taking his hand. "I'd love to."

Once seated, he takes a sip of water before reclining in his chair. "Now, I know this is going to sound cliche, like something straight out of a B-rated movie, but I have to ask: Why is a beautiful woman like you dining alone?"

Grace feels her cheeks warm. She had never thought of herself as particularly beautiful average, maybe, on a good day, with the right makeup.

"I just moved to Atlanta, haven't had a chance to meet anyone yet, and I'm a little wary of dating apps. Too many horror stories."

Mike lifted his wine glass in a toast. "Well, let me be the first to welcome you."

"Thank you."

Taking a sip, he set the glass down, then asks, "So, what brings you to our fair city?"

"I was tired of freezing," she says with a small laugh. "So I migrated south."

"Oh? Where from?"

"Upstate New York. My family business is there." She pauses, shifting in her seat, and she continues. "I ran it for a while after my father passed, but I decided investment advice isn't for me. I'm not the type to sit behind a desk for eight hours a day."

He chuckled. "I get that."

"So, what do you do?"

"I'm an investment advisor."

Her eyes widened. "I, uh..."

Mike laughed. "I'm just kidding. I'm a doctor, a pediatric surgeon."

Grace exhales. "Saving young lives? How noble of you."

***

Jeromy strides over to Toni's desk, clearing his throat, and says, "I've got some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?"

Toni rubs her tired eyes, leaning back. "Good news. I could use some in this case."

"I tracked the earring to a small jewelry shop, Penelope's, off Main Street."

Toni straightens. "And?"

"It turns out Steven bought the set for Tess back when they started dating."

She frowns. "How is Tess wearing the earrings if she's dead?"

Jeromy's expression darkens. "That's where the bad news comes in. Tess must've left them behind because Lisa Moore was wearing one of the earrings and the matching necklace when she died."

Toni exhaled sharply, frustration creeping in. "What about the tire tracks?"

"We're still working on that."

Toni shakes her head. "Just when I thought we were getting somewhere..."

List of Characters

Tess Cadwell, serial killer

Toni Rodriguez, Sergeant of the Atlanta PD

Jamal Monroe, Detective for the Atlanta PD

Tess's Victims

Steven Cadwell, Tess's Husband

Lisa Moore, Steven's lover

Marsha Whitaker, Steven's Sister

Bill Whitaker, Marsha's Husband

Emily Whitmore, Tess 's Enemy.

Jack Whitmore, Emily's Husband

Jill Arnett, ex-friend

Marisol Richards' ex-friend