B4 Read online

  B4: The Bingo Murders

  By Shawn Lane

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2019 Shawn Lane

  ISBN 9781646560141

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  B4: The Bingo Murders

  By Shawn Lane

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  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.”

  Chapter 2

  From Rose O’Hearn’s house, Sean could see the ocean. It was a nice home on a cul-de-sac. Simple and sweet. Rose bushes lined the outside, at the front, under each of the windows that looked out onto the quiet street and the ocean view.

  It was the kind of house Sean would like to own himself one day. Instead of living in his apartment, which he didn’t own.

  The cul-de-sac was a little elevated above another street below it. Not exactly on a hillside, but not on flat land either. This particular neighborhood remained pretty safe. Unlike some of those closer to the bay and the docks that had turned bad. All cities had areas most people knew to stay away from, and Haydon Cliff was no different.

  This was not at all the place where someone should have been murdered. He was aware no one should be murdered, but he was a detective and lived in the real world. Murders happened.

  Even to little old ladies.

  And maybe this murder had nothing to do with the one of Maria Castro, who lived closer to those docks. Maybe Sean would be crowned king tomorrow, too.

  Two murders, of course, did not mean they had a serial killer on the loose. His captain would remind him of that. Even if they were related, it didn’t mean a serial killer.

  Sean turned as the door opened and Kathy O’Hearn came out of the house, followed by a policewoman.

  “I’m going to give Ms. O’Hearn a lift home,” the officer told Sean.

  He nodded. “Thank you. I’m…sorry for your loss.”

  Sean never really knew what to say to the family. Really, what was there you could say? Kathy O’Hearn had nothing to say back, either, and Sean couldn’t blame her. She looked weary and sad, maybe even despondent.

  He watched until the police car had driven way from the curb and away from the horror of murder.

  A moment later, the door opened again and Andy came out. “They’ll finish processing the scene and let us know the findings back at the station.”

  The coroner had already come for Rose.

  “What’s she going to do with this place, do you know?”

  Andy gave him one of his patented “you’re so weird, Sean” looks and shrugged. “I doubt she’s even thinking about that now. And that’s even supposing the place goes to her.”

  “Who else? I thought Kathy was her only living relative.”

  “Maybe she is, but people leave stuff to their pets these days. Or anywhere really.” Andy made a tsking sound. “You’re way ahead of yourself anyway.”

  “I know.” They walked to their individual cars parallel parked on the street. Sean glanced at the neighbor’s house in time to see the curtain drop back into place. “It’s a nice area.”

  “Murders happen in mansions, Seany.”

  He hated that nickname Andy had developed for him. Well, he had a love-hate thing going on with it. He loved that Andy had a special name for him, but he just wished he liked it.

  “Going to the station?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Might as well. Get working on this.”

  Sean nodded. “Me, too. Now that it’s morning, I think I’ll stop for donuts on the way. You want any special kind?”

  “Nah, I’ll eat anything. Get some decent coffee, too, will you? It’ll be nice not to have to drink Crane’s swill.”

  Sean smiled a little. “You got it. See you soon.”

  * * * *

  Sean’s go-to donut shop was on Main Street. He figured pretty much every town had a Main Street, and the Cliff was no exception. Not that Sean ate donuts every day or even all that frequently. He liked to keep himself in pretty good shape, and eating donuts was not the way to health maintenance. But a splurge now and again didn’t hurt anyone. Plus it amused him to give into the donut cliché with relation to police departments.

  He parked his car in front of Dusty’s Donuts. There hadn’t been a Dusty in decades, but the various owners of the shop since those days had never bothered to change the name. Signage was expensive and, besides, when Dusty had been around and running it, the place was popular. Why fix what isn’t broken?

  As soon as he stepped into the shop that early morning before the sun had even fully risen, he was greeted by the current owner and proprietor, Lexy Wanderer. A fake name, no doubt about it, but Sean had done a background check and found no criminal reason for it.

  “Detective Callahan, welcome,” Lexy called upon seeing him.

  “Sean,” he reminded. “Not too busy yet this morning. Even got a space out front.”

  Lexy sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. Horn-rimmed. An odd choice for a young man, Sean thought, for he knew Lexy was twenty-six. He’d acquired the collateral to buy Dusty’s through an inheritance.

  “Business is down, you know, because of the chain opening up on Fifth.”

  “But the donuts here are so much better.”

  Lexy smiled faintly. “Thanks. But you know, it’s the newness factor, too, I guess. What’ll it be, Sean?”

  “A couple dozen mixed. Some raised, some cake. Make sure you get some of the custard-filled. That’s Andy’s favorite.” Sure, Andy had said he would eat anything, but Sean also knew the custard-filled with the chocolate glaze were his favorite.

  “Sure thing.” Lexy picked up a large pink box and began to fill it with assorted donuts. He didn’t look at Sean. “So, um, how’s Captain Rivers?”

  “Rivers?”

  Lexy shrugged. “He was coming in here from time to time for a donut and tea. Been a while, so I just wondered.”
>
  The kid didn’t stand a chance with a guy like Rivers. Sean was pretty sure their captain was interested only in leggy blondes, but he didn’t want to kill Lexy’s crush—if that’s what it was—and judging by the man’s pinked cheeks, Sean wasn’t far off the mark.

  “He’s fine. Probably just the new health kick everyone seems to be on. He’s probably bypassing the donut shop for the gym.”

  Lexy nodded, but he hardly looked convinced. He taped the first pink box, then reached for another to fill.

  “One of your big coffee containers, too, with some cups.”

  When Lexy had everything ready, he rang it up. “Forgot to ask. Is it true there’s been another murder?”

  Sean scowled. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Guy came in before you. Said he saw a bunch of cops up on Larsen. You get cops up that way, it’s usually something pretty big.” Lexy pushed at his glasses again. “I thought that guy that killed the homeless people was unusual.”

  “He was. Don’t worry about it, Lexy. No one said we had another serial killer. Don’t be spreading rumors.” Sean tried to make himself sound stern.

  The kid didn’t seem that convinced, but he nodded. “All right. Thanks for coming by, Detective.”

  Sean left the donut shop, and with a cop’s suspicions, looked out over the area. Nothing seemed out of order or anything. Which just made him that much more suspicious.

  He sure hoped that the murders of the older women was a terrible coincidence. Too bad Sean didn’t believe in such things.

  Chapter 3

  “Mantegna, Callahan, get in here. Right now.”

  Andy exchanged a look with Sean, then set his half-eaten donut on his desk. He pushed back his chair and headed into their captain’s office.

  Captain Rivers leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he waited for them to settle into the chairs across from him.

  Andy found himself wishing he’d brought his coffee with him, more to have something to hold onto than anything else. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was in trouble, about to be scolded by a parent or something.