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The alarm rang at a deafening volume, Allison opened her eyes sleepily and glanced at the clock. She squinted to read it through the blinding sunlight that was pouring in her window. The sun warmed and illuminated everything in its path, and reminded her of candles on a birthday cake. Even the corners of her tiny room were streaked with brilliant light. It was 6 O’clock and she knew she had to get up and start the day. She had never been a morning person, so she just laid in bed for a few more minutes, before drifting off to sleep again. She woke up several minutes later in a panic thinking she was late for work. Reluctantly Allison sat up and searched for her slippers. Finding them lying beside the bed, she reached for her robe and tied the belt around her waist.
The floor creaked under her feet as she made her way slowly down the hall to the kitchen. The apartment was small, one bedroom, one bath, a modest living room, and a small kitchen. But it was all she could afford. Allison lived in Connecticut’s lower district. Although Fallwood was a pretty town, it had its share of crime and run down buildings. The apartment building was back a few yards, set off to the side near some overgrown shrubs the locals called “The woods”. As she walked into the kitchen, Allison caught sight of a picture of her mother she kept on the counter. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered her. Allison looked somewhat like her, dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right into your soul and an awesome figure. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, she remembered her mother’s reaction when she had first seen the apartment.
Her mother had been appalled that Allison wanted to live there and was staunchly against it. Connecticut’s lower district wasn’t permeated by crime, but it wasn’t immune to it either. They had argued about it for days, until her mother finally gave up in defeat and stormed out the door. While she was driving home, Marie Shure was flagged down by a motorist. He asked her if she had a cell phone, Marie always wanting to help someone in need reached in her purse. As she was retrieving it, the man explained that he was having car trouble and just needed it to call a family friend.
The man took it grateful for her kindness and dialed his friend, who he claimed was a mechanic. Marie was about to drive away when the man turned on her and pulled out a gun. He told her to get into the passenger seat, she reluctantly obeyed and watched as the man drove along the street to the deserted area known as “The Woods”. He pulled over and got out of the car, she knew he was either going to rape her or kill her. Marie saw her opportunity, and grabbed her cell phone which was lying on the dashboard. Her heart was pounding and she shook with fear, but she quickly dialed 911. The man was infuriated and reached for his gun, he pointed the gun and fired. She was killed instantly by a single gunshot wound. After that horrific day, Allison vowed to bring her mother’s killer to justice. Her father, Jack was broken hearted as was Allison. It was a struggle to go on every day, but somehow they both managed. Allison was her father’s stabilizing force, as they both comforted each other through the traumatizing ordeal.
Several months later, Allison graduated from college with a degree in journalism. She told her father on graduation day that she would be a crime reporter and help families find peace and closure. He applauded her efforts and Allison was soon picked up by WFTR a local news station. The crime rate had been drastically reduced, due to the hiring of a new police chief, so there wasn’t much crime in Fallwood. So Allison settled into a comfortable slot as a news reporter and covered crimes when they happened.
Allison was flooded with memories of her mother as she set her coffee cup on the counter and went to start the shower, while it was warming up, she fed her rose breasted cockatoo, Scarlet. He was beautiful with silky feathers, colors of the rainbow, and a massive beak. Even though his beak could do serious damage, Allison knew he would never hurt her. He was gray, pink and white, and reminded her of a magnificent rainbow. He had the most beautiful black eyes she had ever seen, and bounced on his dish when he saw her. As usual, Scarlet leapt on to her hand and kissed her nose.
“Hi, Scarlet, how are you this morning?” he bounced happy to be with her. Scarlet had helped her through many hard times after her mother’s death. Allison found him one day after wandering into a pet store to buy a cat for her father. She thought he could use some companionship, so a kitten would be the perfect gift. She found a pretty frisky kitten and then she saw Scarlet. His eyes looked so unbearably sad, that she knew she had to do something.
She was afraid of large birds, and cautiously reached her hand out to pet him. He immediately climbed on to her arm and said “I love you!” Allison was sold and paid for the kitten and the beautiful parrot.
“You’re getting breakfast early this morning, fellow!. I have to go to work. But I love you and will play with you later.” Scarlet watched as she scooped food into his dish, once she was finished she got into the shower.
Doug Stanton was at his desk when the call came in. He ran WFTR one of the local news stations. He was about fifty, tall and slender, with graying brown hair, haunting dark eyes, and a southern accent. Doug was originally from Texas, but had moved to Fallwood due to its lifestyle and sense of community. In Fallwood, newcomers were treated like royalty, and the locals were hospitable and friendly. Doug put down his coffee cup and picked up the ringing phone.
“Good morning, WFTR.”
“Good morning, Doug. It’s Connor Cassidy. How are you this morning?” Connor was one of the most respected detectives on the Cold Case Unit. His sharp mind and attention to minute detail had solved several cases the police had on the books. Doug smiled when he heard the voice, always happy to hear from Connor.
“Hi, Connor, I’m fine. How about yourself?”
“Fine, Doug. I have a case I’d like you to cover.”
“Oh?” Doug inquired taking a sip of his coffee.
“The Martha Bernard case. There’s renewed interest by Charlie Chattum the new chief. Can you have one of your reporters do a story on it and see where it leads?” Doug put down his cup and looked at all the papers on his desk. He paused as he thought of an answer. That case was nearly a decade old, and hardly news worthy.
“Sure, I’ll send Allison Shure out to cover it. She’s one of our best!”
“Thanks, Doug I really appreciate it.”
Allison set her things down and headed to Doug’s office. It was almost like the headquarters of the station. Every morning, he’d give her a smile and a wink, and then proceed to tell her what her assignment was. She walked down the hall, and noticed the door slightly ajar. She tapped lightly.
“Come in.” Doug bellowed from his chair. He was hunched over his desk, engrossed in the latest paper work and news worthy stories.
“Good morning, Mr. Stanton.” Allison said softly giving him a smile.
“Oh, it’s Doug, you make me sound like an old man!. Good morning, Allison. How are you?” she’d worked there for almost 3 years and had never grown accustomed to calling him by his first name.
“Fine thank you. And you?”
“Fine, I’ve got a story for you, but it’s not news worthy.” She took the chair opposite him and looked into his eyes. Her smile always captivated him, not to mention her eyes. They were an expression of her thoughts, she could never hide anything. Her eyes gave her away, and if Doug wasn’t a happily married man he would have considered a little after work indulgence. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on the task at hand.
“I was asked by Connor Cassidy of the Cold Case Unit to have someone do a story on the Martha Bernard case.”
“Isn’t that a decade old?” Allison’s mind flashed back to the headline in the paper the morning of Martha’s murder. It read:
Beloved Socialite Meets Violent End!
“Yes, but there’s renewed interest by the new police chief Charlie Chattum. You’re one of our best reporters, Allison. Will you do it?” she blushed at the compliment and turned back to face him.
“Sure, when do I start?”
“Are all your edits and voice overs done?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, start right now.”
“Thank you, Mr. … I mean Doug.”
“You’re welcome.”
Connor Cassidy sat in his office perusing the Martha Bernard file. He gleaned the information, but couldn’t find anything new. The murder occurred nearly ten years earlier in the Bernard’s palatial home.
Twenty-four-year-old Martha was alone for the weekend. Her parents and brother had gone to visit some relatives in Virginia. So Martha had the entire house all to herself. It was enormous: complete with sixteen bedrooms, a wrap around deck, six baths, a living room, dining room, several recreation rooms, a spacious kitchen and spa. The Bernard’s came from a long line of entrepreneurs, they had an appetite for success and power. Not to mention the newly acquired homes, cars and yachts. By the time Martha was born, the Bernard’s had amassed a large fortune. There was a constant influx of money: from her uncle’s patent business, to her father’s law practice and hospital.
The servants kept to themselves and only appeared when the buzzer in the kitchen lit up. Martha had invited her boy friend Mark Renson to spend the weekend with her. They had a jovial time, drinking, dancing and listening to music. Occasionally, they would sneak upstairs and make love. The next morning, Mark was sleeping when he heard Martha’s scream. He woke and raced down the stairs to the foyer, there he saw Martha struggling with a masked man. The intruder wore sunglasses and a wig in an effort to further conceal his identity.
“Let me go!” Martha shouted punching the man, but he refused. Just then, as Mark was about to defend her, the masked intruder pulled out a gun and shot her. According to the servants, they had summoned the police, but had not seen the masked man that Mark so accurately described. For years, the police had lingering doubts regarding Mark’s involvement in the murder. They just had no proof. The murder weapon was never recovered, although the shell casing was retrieved and appeared to be a 22. The Bernard’s wanted answers and hopefully Connor would discover the true identity of the killer.
Connor skimmed the file again, there were a multitude of things about this case that just didn’t add up. But whoever knew the answers had kept them buried like a secret treasure. One of the odd things about the murder was the discrepancies in the stories. While Mark told a harrowing tale of murder and violence, the servants gave no indication that anything like that had transpired. The servants had claimed that no one had broken in to the house. They had heard Martha scream and called the police. On the contrary, Mark stated that there was a break in, but the police were skeptical. Mark claimed that the upstairs window, that led to the second floor bedroom was left partially open at night. But how would he have known that? Another peculiar thing was that there were no signs of a struggle until the foyer. If the break in had occurred on the second floor like Mark had stated, there would’ve been signs of a struggle throughout the house. Connor looked up when he heard the clack of high heels approaching his door. Allison timidly turned the knob and knocked.
“Come in.” Allison pushed open the door and walked in. She took a seat across from Connor and reached to shake his hand.
“Hi, I’m Allison Shure, I’m pleased to meet you. I’m with WFTR News.” He was struck by her beauty, her dark hair and blue eyes made her seem radiant. She was wearing a pretty blue skirt, with a silk blouse to match. The outfit was accentuated by the silver earrings that adorned her.
“Hi, I’m Connor Cassidy. I’m delighted to meet you. Looks like we’ll be working together.” She liked him already, he was charming and seem personable.
“It sure does. What do you have on the Bernard murder? Anything new?” Connor handed the file to her and explained the current state of the investigation. It had been cold for years, there were no leads. Although Mark Renson was their prime suspect, they had no DNA evidence to link him to the murder.
As she perused the file, Allison glanced at Connor. His chiseled good looks gave him a rugged appearance, but conveyed a softness and an honesty that was rare. He had wavy blond hair and brown eyes. He was about 5 foot 10, and wore faded jeans and a short sleeved shirt. She found him very attractive and tried to focus on her work.
She was engrossed in reading all the details of the murder, even though some were gory. But she thought they may prove useful in the future, so she soaked all the information in like a sponge. Connor however, couldn’t concentrate, and kept staring at her. Allison was alluring and captivating, her smile, her eyes. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in months, not since Grace. As he watched her work, he thought of his ex-wife and what had led them to eventually go their separate ways.
Grace had long blond hair, green eyes and a pretty face. She was a little round, but not fat. Everyone said that they were an odd match, Connor was quiet, Grace was talkative, he was spontaneous, and she was predictable. But in spite of their differences they had remained together for 12 years. Until that fateful night. Connor closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair enveloped by the memory.
He had worked a late shift at the station, and didn’t get finished until 4 A.M. Connor and his partner had caught a man burglarizing his ex-girlfriend’s home and were about to arrest him, when he pulled out a gun and took his niece hostage. It took the swat team and hostage negotiator five hours to secure the little girl’s safe release and to obtain the man’s surrender. Even after that the man still had to be booked and charged. Connor got out of his car and wearily climbed the stairs that led to the small house on Oak Street. It was a small but modest home, with a manicured lawn, complimented by some oaks and pines, it was picturesque. Connor slipped inside and closed the door softly behind him. Quietly, he began to make his way down the hall that led to the bedroom he shared with Grace. Just then, he heard moaning, Connor immediately thought Grace was injured or having a nightmare and rushed into the bedroom to save her.
“Grace! Grace? What’s …” he stood there in shocked disbelief, unable to process the scene before him. A dark haired man quickly pulled on his pants and shirt and stood at the foot of the bed looking adoringly at Grace.
“Grace, I love you, I guess the jig is up!”
“I love you too, I’ll see you again real soon.”
“With a night like we just had, you bet!” he kissed her and left. The moment he was gone, tears began falling down Grace’s cheeks. She didn’t try to stop them as she looked at her husband who was deeply wounded by her betrayal.
“Connor …”
“Don’t even try that, Grace! I came in here because I thought you were hurt! And you’re making love to another man!. How long has this been going on?” he paced furiously hoping that she would answer honestly, but she made no attempt to answer his question.
“Well? I’d like an answer!”
“Uh … a few months.”
“A few months? You haven’t been faithful to me! I’m ashamed of you.”
“Connor if you would just let me explain …”
“Explain what, Grace? I gave you the best years of my life, I love you! I will always love you, and you don’t care. You just threw our marriage away!”
“I didn’t break my marriage vows!”
“What do you call that scene I just witnessed? Hot nights without love making?”
“I understand you’re upset, but we can work this out! I’m not ready to end our marriage over this!”
They had tried for months to embrace, to kiss, and even once attempted to make love. They had even tried opening up about their feelings, Grace wanted to save their marriage, but Connor didn’t trust her anymore. It was heart breaking but he knew where there was no trust, there was no marriage. That didn’t mean that he stopped trying however. Grace broke off her tryst with her dark-haired lover. Later, Connor found out that the man was Alan Parks.
The Alan Parks, of the Parks and Bernard law firm. It was all over the papers, and his life was one big joke. The worst thing was he had lost Grace. Pretty, vibrant, vivacious Grace. Her energy was infectious, and anyone who was around her became enthralled and enchanted. She had a certain sparkle, a beauty and the ability to illuminate a room with her zest for life. But she had chosen to end their marriage.
In a last ditch effort to save his marriage, Connor had sought out the advice of a marriage counselor, but nothing could save them. The divorce had been finalized a few months ago, and Connor hadn’t dated much. But now Allison was opening the door to his passion and stoking his fire. He snapped back to attention as she asked him a question.
“What?”
“I said is this all you have?”
“Yes, isn’t it frustrating?”
“yeah, but it depends on how you look at it.” She said pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asked quizzically looking at her with more then friendly affection.
“I mean if you look at the glass as half full or half empty. I’ll do a story tonight and see if we can’t breathe some new life into this Bernard case.”
“Do you think you can do that, Allison? It’s a decade old.”
“You never know who’s out there, someone may have seen something and after an entire decade, those sort of things can build up on you.”
“Okay, give it a shot.”
“I need your help.”
“Sure, anything.”
“I need to see the mansion.” Connor grabbed his coat and car keys and escorted her to his car.
Pretty soon, they were driving on the poshest of roads, it was more like a gated community. Manicured lawns, brilliant rose gardens, and the smell of spring permeated the air. As they drove with the windows open. It was a gorgeous day, the kind that made you thankful you were alive to witness such a picture perfect day.
They got out of the car, and Connor led Allison into the foyer, the Bernard’s still lived there, but they weren’t home at the moment. Amelia the maid showed them the now infamous crime scene area, Allison knew that this is where she should broadcast her story. The exact scene might trigger some memories. As she looked at the marble floor, she wondered about the struggle that had occurred there which had ultimately led to Martha’s death. Even though the blood had long since been washed away, Allison wondered if forensics could shed any light on what had occurred. She recalled reading about a chemical called luminol, and when sprayed, it glowed in the presence of blood. She pondered this before turning to Connor.
“Have you tried luminol?”
“What?”
“Have you tried luminol?”
“Yes, I was just a little surprised that you knew about it.”
“It glows in the presence of blood.”
“Yes, that’s right. The forensics team was out here years ago, but nothing turned up. We still don’t have a murder weapon. Although, the shell casing was a 22.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can fit into my report.”
“I’m normally not this bold, but would you like to go out to dinner tonight?”
“Great, we can get to know each other a little better.”
“Sounds good to me. What time should I pick you up?” Connor asked glancing at his watch.
“Hmm, let’s see, I should have the story done in an hour, how’s 7-30?”
“Fine, where do you live?”
“Do you know where The Woods are?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s 24 Fallcrest Drive Apartment 3A.”
“Okay that’s good.” They talked about what restaurant to dine at while Connor drove her back to the station for her car. As he watched her drive away, he knew he was beginning to fall in love.
Allison was busily doing her hair, she didn’t consider this a date, but she wanted to look nice. She put on a blue cotton dress with her new blue sandals. She had purchased blue trapezoid earrings a month earlier and had never warn them. Now she would get her chance, she reached into the jewelry box and put them on. Just as she was curling her hair, the doorbell rang. She shut off the curling iron and timidly opened the door.
“Hi, am I late?” Connor asked stepping into her apartment.
“No, right on time. Can I get you anything to drink? I have iced tea, lemonade, coffee, and soda.”
“My goodness, you’re quite the little homemaker aren’t you?” he asked sitting on the couch. He surmised that Allison had made the blue curtains and the gray slip covers for the couch and loveseat. She noticed him eyeing her handiwork.
“Oh, those? I made them ages ago.”
“Well, they’re beautiful.”
“Thanks. How about that drink? I have wine too.”
“No, soda’s fine with me.” She went into the kitchen and a few minutes later brought out two glasses of soda. She pulled the end table between them as they sipped their soda, they talked about their lives.
“So, how long have you been a reporter?”
“About 3 years now. I love it, it’s intriguing, and it’s certainly not the run of the mill job every day.”
“No, it sure isn’t. Neither is being a detective. Although you don’t always get to see the best side of human nature.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes the crimes I cover are horrendous. I didn’t always want to be a reporter.”
“Oh?” Connor inquired sipping his soda. He looked into her blue eyes and knew there was more.
“It all started when my mother came to visit me here. This was my first apartment, and she hated it.” She smiled remembering her mother’s soft voice, her caring eyes.
“She said this place was a dump and I shouldn’t be living here. I disagreed, I thought I knew more than she did. Boy, was I wrong, she was the best. Supportive, always there to lend a helping hand to someone in need, and she was more than just a mother. She was my best friend.” Her eyes began to fill with tears and she reached for a tissue.
“Oh I’m sorry. I had no idea.” He said, she looked into his eyes and saw genuine sympathy.
“Thank you. Mom stormed out of here, and as she was driving home, she was car jacked. She was going to give him the car, but he pulled a gun and shot her. By the time Dad and I got to the hospital she was gone.” He reached out and touched her hand. At first, his touch made her tremble, but then she relaxed. It was the most natural thing in the world, and she wondered why she was telling her life’s story to a complete stranger. She was usually a very private person, but somehow with Connor it felt right.
“I’m sorry.” He said softly.
“Thank you, Connor. That’s why I became a reporter, to help families find peace and closure. Will you listen to me? I’m rambling on here, I’m sorry I didn’t expect to go on like that.”
“It’s all right, it’s good to let your emotions out.”
“So, what about you?” he took another sip of soda.
“Well, I’m divorced. My wife Grace had an affair. So I haven’t been up to much, just getting back into the dating scene.” Allison took a sip of soda and leaned back on the couch listening to him with interest.
“That’s hard, it’s hard to find the right person.”
“Yeah especially in this day and age.” Allison smiled and once again, Connor was captivated. They decided to dine at La Luna a romantic out-of-the-way restaurant.
La Luna was one of the hottest restaurants in town, a spot for lovers and those falling in love. It boasted a spectacular view of the river, excellent food, and impeccable service. The air was a filled with the murmur of the dinner crowd and the smell of bread baking. Allison loved the ambiance of the place, and made a mental note to come here more often. She was fascinated by their extensive menu, and they finally decide on their appetizer. They ordered an appetizer of chicken wings, and mozzarella sticks, and Connor told her of his failing marriage, and how Grace’s betrayal had destroyed him.
“We had been married for 12 years, I loved her with my heart and soul. I never thought that she would cheat on me. But she did, I walked in on them, and it was pretty shocking.” Now, it was her turn to comfort him.
“I’m sorry.” She said softly.
“It’s all right, I live with it day by day.”
“That’s hard to go through. I can’t imagine how I would feel if anyone did that to me.”
“I couldn’t imagine it for a while either, and I lived it. I was in shock one moment, and wanted to put our marriage back together the next. I did everything, I ranted at her, and I brought her flowers and candy. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Grace had a certain magnetism, a charm. But I’d never lived without her in my life. We were next door neighbors and it blossomed from there. But after a while, I realized that I didn’t trust her.” He took a bite of a mozzarella stick while Allison dipped a chicken wing in sauce.
“If there’s no trust, there’s no marriage.”
“I agree, Connor. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”
“Thanks, the important thing, is that it’s over.”
They talked for a long time about the Bernard case, Allison told him of the report that she had done. He seemed impressed, taken with her every word and movement. As she lay in bed that night, Allison had a feeling that dinner was more than a friendly gesture. She had a wonderful evening, sharing and laughing with him. She could picture herself with him, but what would he think of her? Thoughts of Connor Cassidy filled her head as she drifted off to sleep.
He watched her report from his small black and white in the bedroom. He loved seeing her on the screen, he thought she was beautiful. He had followed every story she had ever covered, and thought that Allison Shure was the best reporter WFTR ever had. Mark sat in his armed chair and turned up the sound, the story was starting and he wanted to hear what she had to say.
“I’m here at the infamous Bernard mansion. You may remember that socialite Martha Bernard was brutally murdered nearly a decade earlier in this posh estate.” A picture of the mansion and its grounds was flashed across the screen.
“This is where the beautiful young woman’s life came to a tragic end, at the hands of a masked intruder. Martha Bernard was not only beautiful outside, but inside as well. It is a mystery why anyone would want to cut this promising young life short. There are many peculiar things about this case. Discrepancies that don’t make sense, for example Mark Renson, Martha Bernard’s boyfriend and Celia Clark a maid at the Bernard’s have differing accounts of the events that occurred that horrific night. Police Chief Charlie Chattum has stated that there is renewed interest in this case, and anyone with any information is asked to call the local police. You may also recall that Mark Renson was the prime suspect in the case, but since there were no usable finger prints, and DNA testing was not yet available, no charges were ever filed. Can this ten-year-old case be solved using scientific advances? Hopefully this baffling mystery will finally be solved, Allison Shure WFTR News.” Mark got up and turned off the TV. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He was going to stop Allison’s curiosity once and for all.
Connor waited for Allison to arrive. She was a few minutes late. He bought two cups of coffee and set them on his desk while he waited. The good thing about this case was that he got to see her every day. He was slowly falling in love with her, all his dreams were about her. Holding her, kissing her and making love to her. They had been working together for over a month, and their attraction couldn’t be denied. He started to get worried as he glanced at the clock. He tried her cell, but he got her voicemail.
“Allison, it’s Connor. Please call me. I’m worried about you.” He hung up exasperated, he had a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Allison drove to work at her usual pace. She thought the car wasn’t stopping correctly, but thought it was just her imagination. But suddenly, as she went to stop for a traffic light, the car kept going. The breaks had locked and the accelerator was stuck to the floor. The car careened out of control, as Allison did her best to stop it. But it was no use, the careened off the highway, sending Allison off the road into a tree. The impact was deafening, shards of glass and metal could be heard as they crunched together. The impact had also shattered the windshield and the windows. But luckily, Allison was unscathed. At first, she was so stunned, she just sat there, but then she pulled out her cell and turned it on. She saw she had messages and punched in her password. Just as she heard Connor’s anguished voice, there was a tap on her window. She shut off the phone and stared at the man.
“Need help?” Mark asked cheerfully.
“I do, actually.”
“Something wrong?” he knew the answer even before he asked, he just wanted to hear it for himself.
“My breaks just locked up! And the accelerator too!”
“Can I give you a lift anywhere?”
“Yes to the police station.”
“Why what happened? Is anything wrong?”
“Other then my car, no. I’m a reporter, I’m working on a case.”
“Oh, sure thing. I’m Mark Renson.” Fingers of fear filled her heart as she realized who this man was.
“Oh, I’m Allison Shure. Nice to meet you.” She didn’t want him to get suspicious, so she got out of the car and into the passenger seat of his.
Within minutes, they were at the police station. Mark said that he would keep an eye on her car until the tow truck got there. She thought it was a little odd, but maybe he was a nice guy. The police didn’t have any real evidence linking him to Martha Bernard’s murder. Maybe they were wrong, Allison thought as she stepped into Connor’s office.
“Allison! I’ve been worried about you!. Didn’t you get my messages?”
“I did, I’m sorry. I got stuck with my car. I had the most bizarre encounter with Mark Renson.”
“Mark Renson?” Connor repeated in shock.
“Yeah, he helped me get here. The breaks and accelerator locked up on my car and I crashed into a tree. It was strange, I had just careened off the road into the tree when Mark showed up. Maybe he tampered with my car.”
“This is too dangerous for you now! Now he’s playing games with your life!”
“Connor relax, he didn’t hurt me. Besides, I think he liked me, maybe I can charm him into talking.”
“No! you’re not doing anything of the kind!”
“What’s the matter with you? I’m a reporter! And this is a hot story!”
“I don’t want you getting hurt!”
“I’m not going to get hurt.”
“Don’t do this, Allison!. I care about you.”
“I know you do, Connor, but nothing’s going to happen to me.” He knew he wasn’t going to win so he sat down defeated in his chair. He handed her the cup of coffee that was now lukewarm.
“Thank you. That was so sweet of you.” She said smiling at him. He looked into her eyes and melted. She was captivated by his brown eyes, they held so much promise and wisdom. She pushed the thought aside and reached for the Mark Renson file on the desk.
“You’re welcome, I know how much you love coffee. Hazelnut is your favorite.” He said with a wink. She smiled at him and laughed.
“You’re right, thank you, Connor. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“That’s all right, you’re safe that’s the important thing.”
“It’s a murder case, Connor not a mob hit! You’d think what the hell I was getting into.”
“With Mark Renson you never know.”
“I’ll be careful.” He touched her hand and nodded.
“Okay, that’s all I ask.” He knew he would have to tell her one of these days, just not in a police station. He wanted to declare his love for her in a place like La Luna. Romantic, warm and full of charm.
Allison was lost in concentration as she read the file. She skimmed the last page, something jumped out at her. At the end of the document was a notation that read: Mark Renson also suspected of murdering his former girlfriend Marlena Swenson. She put down the file and looked at Connor.
“Did you see this notation here?”
“Which one?” he asked looking the file over.
“Right here,” she said pointing with her finger. “it says that Mark was the prime suspect in Marlena Swenson’s murder.”
“No, I never saw that. I’ll pull up the case.” Connor said going to the computer which sat on a dusty desk next to a multitude of books on forensics. Within minutes, he had the details of Marlena’s murder up on the screen. Allison peered over his shoulder to read the monitor.
“The crime scenes look similar don’t they?” she asked hypothesizing that Mark was also responsible for the Swenson murder.
“Yes, very. The only difference is that Marlena’s finger nails were broken in a struggle. Same story, she was attacked and shot. Mark was guess where?”
“Sleeping.” Allison said confidently staring at the file in front of her.
“That’s right, let’s give you a prize.” Connor said in an attempt to make her laugh. She gave him a tender smile.
“Do you think he did it?” she asked trying to read his thoughts.
“I do, but I don’t have any evidence to back it up.”
“Well, let’s find some and see if we can link him to both murders.” Allison said perusing the computer screen.
They worked all day looking at interviews with Mark’s parents, brother and Martha’s parents. All of them had alibis accept Mark. But just because he didn’t have an alibi didn’t mean he was guilty either. Allison kept staring at the Marlena Swenson file. The murders were definitely linked. But who killed both women? They were no closer to answering that question at the end of the day than they were at the beginning. Allison glanced at the clock, she had to report on the ongoing progress of the investigation, and had to get back to the station. Connor was scrutinizing every interview and audio tape available. He was listening to Mark’s explanation of what had transpired the night of Martha’s murder with rapt attention. Allison wrote down a few tidbits and then turned to go.
“You’re leaving already?”
“I have to get back and file this report. Can you give me a lift to the station?”
“Sure. Did the mechanic ever call about your car?”
“Yeah, it’s going to be over $600 to fix everything. He told me the car was tampered with.”
“I think our boy Mark has been up to his usual tricks.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can get out of him.” She said smiling sweetly at him.
“No! you’re going to put that idea out of your head right now. He’s a dangerous man and I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Okay, for now.” She said in defeat. She thanked him for the lift and got out of the car. Connor watched her as she disappeared into the building. He had a sinking feeling that someone was following her.
Mark sat in his usual spot to watch Allison’s report. She was a fascinating person, and his encounter had only fueled his desire to stop her from finding out the truth. She was a determined person, and he knew that nothing short of murder would stop her. He was going to make sure that she didn’t solve this case even if he had to kill her to accomplish it. Tonight, she had said that the murder of Martha Bernard and Marlena Swenson were similar. The police weren’t sure if they were linked, but Allison’s report was fuel for an ever growing firestorm of controversy. Mark’s family believed he was innocent and just in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, he had been the last person to see Martha alive and wasn’t successful in defending her against the masked intruder. While the Bernard’s and the police believed that he was guilty, they just didn’t have the scientific evidence to prove it yet. He knew that Allison was trying her hardest to find out who killed both women.
“You’ll find out! One way or another!” he said as Allison finished her report. He laughed coldly and began to hatch his diabolical plan.
Allison walked into her apartment and set her briefcase by the front door. Scarlet was squawking like a lunatic and she wondered what was wrong. In all the years she had him, he had never squawked this much. Allison threw off her sweater and ran to the cage. The moment she opened the door, Scarlet jumped on to her hand.
“What’s the matter, baby? Aren’t you feeling well?” Scarlet looked up at her and squawked again.
“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she soothed stroking his feathers lightly. He seemed to settle down and she put him back after petting him for a while. Allison was just about to go into the kitchen to get something to drink when she saw it. A yellow slip of paper lying on the floor by the front door. She picked it up and read it.
Dear Allison,
Our encounter today wasn’t just a coincidence. I planned it, as I planned your little mishap this morning with your car. We will meet again soon, there is no doubt of that. But where and when will be up to you. See you again soon.
Mark Renson
Allison shook with fear, she had no idea that Mark Renson could be this evil. Connor’s outburst had been right on target. He had begged her all through lunch not to pursue Mark. He had warned her that he was dangerous, and now she knew how right he was.
The floor creaked under her feet as she made her way slowly down the hall to the kitchen. The apartment was small, one bedroom, one bath, a modest living room, and a small kitchen. But it was all she could afford. Allison lived in Connecticut’s lower district. Although Fallwood was a pretty town, it had its share of crime and run down buildings. The apartment building was back a few yards, set off to the side near some overgrown shrubs the locals called “The woods”. As she walked into the kitchen, Allison caught sight of a picture of her mother she kept on the counter. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered her. Allison looked somewhat like her, dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right into your soul and an awesome figure. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, she remembered her mother’s reaction when she had first seen the apartment.
Her mother had been appalled that Allison wanted to live there and was staunchly against it. Connecticut’s lower district wasn’t permeated by crime, but it wasn’t immune to it either. They had argued about it for days, until her mother finally gave up in defeat and stormed out the door. While she was driving home, Marie Shure was flagged down by a motorist. He asked her if she had a cell phone, Marie always wanting to help someone in need reached in her purse. As she was retrieving it, the man explained that he was having car trouble and just needed it to call a family friend.
The man took it grateful for her kindness and dialed his friend, who he claimed was a mechanic. Marie was about to drive away when the man turned on her and pulled out a gun. He told her to get into the passenger seat, she reluctantly obeyed and watched as the man drove along the street to the deserted area known as “The Woods”. He pulled over and got out of the car, she knew he was either going to rape her or kill her. Marie saw her opportunity, and grabbed her cell phone which was lying on the dashboard. Her heart was pounding and she shook with fear, but she quickly dialed 911. The man was infuriated and reached for his gun, he pointed the gun and fired. She was killed instantly by a single gunshot wound. After that horrific day, Allison vowed to bring her mother’s killer to justice. Her father, Jack was broken hearted as was Allison. It was a struggle to go on every day, but somehow they both managed. Allison was her father’s stabilizing force, as they both comforted each other through the traumatizing ordeal.
Several months later, Allison graduated from college with a degree in journalism. She told her father on graduation day that she would be a crime reporter and help families find peace and closure. He applauded her efforts and Allison was soon picked up by WFTR a local news station. The crime rate had been drastically reduced, due to the hiring of a new police chief, so there wasn’t much crime in Fallwood. So Allison settled into a comfortable slot as a news reporter and covered crimes when they happened.
Allison was flooded with memories of her mother as she set her coffee cup on the counter and went to start the shower, while it was warming up, she fed her rose breasted cockatoo, Scarlet. He was beautiful with silky feathers, colors of the rainbow, and a massive beak. Even though his beak could do serious damage, Allison knew he would never hurt her. He was gray, pink and white, and reminded her of a magnificent rainbow. He had the most beautiful black eyes she had ever seen, and bounced on his dish when he saw her. As usual, Scarlet leapt on to her hand and kissed her nose.
“Hi, Scarlet, how are you this morning?” he bounced happy to be with her. Scarlet had helped her through many hard times after her mother’s death. Allison found him one day after wandering into a pet store to buy a cat for her father. She thought he could use some companionship, so a kitten would be the perfect gift. She found a pretty frisky kitten and then she saw Scarlet. His eyes looked so unbearably sad, that she knew she had to do something.
She was afraid of large birds, and cautiously reached her hand out to pet him. He immediately climbed on to her arm and said “I love you!” Allison was sold and paid for the kitten and the beautiful parrot.
“You’re getting breakfast early this morning, fellow!. I have to go to work. But I love you and will play with you later.” Scarlet watched as she scooped food into his dish, once she was finished she got into the shower.
Doug Stanton was at his desk when the call came in. He ran WFTR one of the local news stations. He was about fifty, tall and slender, with graying brown hair, haunting dark eyes, and a southern accent. Doug was originally from Texas, but had moved to Fallwood due to its lifestyle and sense of community. In Fallwood, newcomers were treated like royalty, and the locals were hospitable and friendly. Doug put down his coffee cup and picked up the ringing phone.
“Good morning, WFTR.”
“Good morning, Doug. It’s Connor Cassidy. How are you this morning?” Connor was one of the most respected detectives on the Cold Case Unit. His sharp mind and attention to minute detail had solved several cases the police had on the books. Doug smiled when he heard the voice, always happy to hear from Connor.
“Hi, Connor, I’m fine. How about yourself?”
“Fine, Doug. I have a case I’d like you to cover.”
“Oh?” Doug inquired taking a sip of his coffee.
“The Martha Bernard case. There’s renewed interest by Charlie Chattum the new chief. Can you have one of your reporters do a story on it and see where it leads?” Doug put down his cup and looked at all the papers on his desk. He paused as he thought of an answer. That case was nearly a decade old, and hardly news worthy.
“Sure, I’ll send Allison Shure out to cover it. She’s one of our best!”
“Thanks, Doug I really appreciate it.”
Allison set her things down and headed to Doug’s office. It was almost like the headquarters of the station. Every morning, he’d give her a smile and a wink, and then proceed to tell her what her assignment was. She walked down the hall, and noticed the door slightly ajar. She tapped lightly.
“Come in.” Doug bellowed from his chair. He was hunched over his desk, engrossed in the latest paper work and news worthy stories.
“Good morning, Mr. Stanton.” Allison said softly giving him a smile.
“Oh, it’s Doug, you make me sound like an old man!. Good morning, Allison. How are you?” she’d worked there for almost 3 years and had never grown accustomed to calling him by his first name.
“Fine thank you. And you?”
“Fine, I’ve got a story for you, but it’s not news worthy.” She took the chair opposite him and looked into his eyes. Her smile always captivated him, not to mention her eyes. They were an expression of her thoughts, she could never hide anything. Her eyes gave her away, and if Doug wasn’t a happily married man he would have considered a little after work indulgence. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on the task at hand.
“I was asked by Connor Cassidy of the Cold Case Unit to have someone do a story on the Martha Bernard case.”
“Isn’t that a decade old?” Allison’s mind flashed back to the headline in the paper the morning of Martha’s murder. It read:
Beloved Socialite Meets Violent End!
“Yes, but there’s renewed interest by the new police chief Charlie Chattum. You’re one of our best reporters, Allison. Will you do it?” she blushed at the compliment and turned back to face him.
“Sure, when do I start?”
“Are all your edits and voice overs done?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, start right now.”
“Thank you, Mr. … I mean Doug.”
“You’re welcome.”
Connor Cassidy sat in his office perusing the Martha Bernard file. He gleaned the information, but couldn’t find anything new. The murder occurred nearly ten years earlier in the Bernard’s palatial home.
Twenty-four-year-old Martha was alone for the weekend. Her parents and brother had gone to visit some relatives in Virginia. So Martha had the entire house all to herself. It was enormous: complete with sixteen bedrooms, a wrap around deck, six baths, a living room, dining room, several recreation rooms, a spacious kitchen and spa. The Bernard’s came from a long line of entrepreneurs, they had an appetite for success and power. Not to mention the newly acquired homes, cars and yachts. By the time Martha was born, the Bernard’s had amassed a large fortune. There was a constant influx of money: from her uncle’s patent business, to her father’s law practice and hospital.
The servants kept to themselves and only appeared when the buzzer in the kitchen lit up. Martha had invited her boy friend Mark Renson to spend the weekend with her. They had a jovial time, drinking, dancing and listening to music. Occasionally, they would sneak upstairs and make love. The next morning, Mark was sleeping when he heard Martha’s scream. He woke and raced down the stairs to the foyer, there he saw Martha struggling with a masked man. The intruder wore sunglasses and a wig in an effort to further conceal his identity.
“Let me go!” Martha shouted punching the man, but he refused. Just then, as Mark was about to defend her, the masked intruder pulled out a gun and shot her. According to the servants, they had summoned the police, but had not seen the masked man that Mark so accurately described. For years, the police had lingering doubts regarding Mark’s involvement in the murder. They just had no proof. The murder weapon was never recovered, although the shell casing was retrieved and appeared to be a 22. The Bernard’s wanted answers and hopefully Connor would discover the true identity of the killer.
Connor skimmed the file again, there were a multitude of things about this case that just didn’t add up. But whoever knew the answers had kept them buried like a secret treasure. One of the odd things about the murder was the discrepancies in the stories. While Mark told a harrowing tale of murder and violence, the servants gave no indication that anything like that had transpired. The servants had claimed that no one had broken in to the house. They had heard Martha scream and called the police. On the contrary, Mark stated that there was a break in, but the police were skeptical. Mark claimed that the upstairs window, that led to the second floor bedroom was left partially open at night. But how would he have known that? Another peculiar thing was that there were no signs of a struggle until the foyer. If the break in had occurred on the second floor like Mark had stated, there would’ve been signs of a struggle throughout the house. Connor looked up when he heard the clack of high heels approaching his door. Allison timidly turned the knob and knocked.
“Come in.” Allison pushed open the door and walked in. She took a seat across from Connor and reached to shake his hand.
“Hi, I’m Allison Shure, I’m pleased to meet you. I’m with WFTR News.” He was struck by her beauty, her dark hair and blue eyes made her seem radiant. She was wearing a pretty blue skirt, with a silk blouse to match. The outfit was accentuated by the silver earrings that adorned her.
“Hi, I’m Connor Cassidy. I’m delighted to meet you. Looks like we’ll be working together.” She liked him already, he was charming and seem personable.
“It sure does. What do you have on the Bernard murder? Anything new?” Connor handed the file to her and explained the current state of the investigation. It had been cold for years, there were no leads. Although Mark Renson was their prime suspect, they had no DNA evidence to link him to the murder.
As she perused the file, Allison glanced at Connor. His chiseled good looks gave him a rugged appearance, but conveyed a softness and an honesty that was rare. He had wavy blond hair and brown eyes. He was about 5 foot 10, and wore faded jeans and a short sleeved shirt. She found him very attractive and tried to focus on her work.
She was engrossed in reading all the details of the murder, even though some were gory. But she thought they may prove useful in the future, so she soaked all the information in like a sponge. Connor however, couldn’t concentrate, and kept staring at her. Allison was alluring and captivating, her smile, her eyes. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in months, not since Grace. As he watched her work, he thought of his ex-wife and what had led them to eventually go their separate ways.
Grace had long blond hair, green eyes and a pretty face. She was a little round, but not fat. Everyone said that they were an odd match, Connor was quiet, Grace was talkative, he was spontaneous, and she was predictable. But in spite of their differences they had remained together for 12 years. Until that fateful night. Connor closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair enveloped by the memory.
He had worked a late shift at the station, and didn’t get finished until 4 A.M. Connor and his partner had caught a man burglarizing his ex-girlfriend’s home and were about to arrest him, when he pulled out a gun and took his niece hostage. It took the swat team and hostage negotiator five hours to secure the little girl’s safe release and to obtain the man’s surrender. Even after that the man still had to be booked and charged. Connor got out of his car and wearily climbed the stairs that led to the small house on Oak Street. It was a small but modest home, with a manicured lawn, complimented by some oaks and pines, it was picturesque. Connor slipped inside and closed the door softly behind him. Quietly, he began to make his way down the hall that led to the bedroom he shared with Grace. Just then, he heard moaning, Connor immediately thought Grace was injured or having a nightmare and rushed into the bedroom to save her.
“Grace! Grace? What’s …” he stood there in shocked disbelief, unable to process the scene before him. A dark haired man quickly pulled on his pants and shirt and stood at the foot of the bed looking adoringly at Grace.
“Grace, I love you, I guess the jig is up!”
“I love you too, I’ll see you again real soon.”
“With a night like we just had, you bet!” he kissed her and left. The moment he was gone, tears began falling down Grace’s cheeks. She didn’t try to stop them as she looked at her husband who was deeply wounded by her betrayal.
“Connor …”
“Don’t even try that, Grace! I came in here because I thought you were hurt! And you’re making love to another man!. How long has this been going on?” he paced furiously hoping that she would answer honestly, but she made no attempt to answer his question.
“Well? I’d like an answer!”
“Uh … a few months.”
“A few months? You haven’t been faithful to me! I’m ashamed of you.”
“Connor if you would just let me explain …”
“Explain what, Grace? I gave you the best years of my life, I love you! I will always love you, and you don’t care. You just threw our marriage away!”
“I didn’t break my marriage vows!”
“What do you call that scene I just witnessed? Hot nights without love making?”
“I understand you’re upset, but we can work this out! I’m not ready to end our marriage over this!”
They had tried for months to embrace, to kiss, and even once attempted to make love. They had even tried opening up about their feelings, Grace wanted to save their marriage, but Connor didn’t trust her anymore. It was heart breaking but he knew where there was no trust, there was no marriage. That didn’t mean that he stopped trying however. Grace broke off her tryst with her dark-haired lover. Later, Connor found out that the man was Alan Parks.
The Alan Parks, of the Parks and Bernard law firm. It was all over the papers, and his life was one big joke. The worst thing was he had lost Grace. Pretty, vibrant, vivacious Grace. Her energy was infectious, and anyone who was around her became enthralled and enchanted. She had a certain sparkle, a beauty and the ability to illuminate a room with her zest for life. But she had chosen to end their marriage.
In a last ditch effort to save his marriage, Connor had sought out the advice of a marriage counselor, but nothing could save them. The divorce had been finalized a few months ago, and Connor hadn’t dated much. But now Allison was opening the door to his passion and stoking his fire. He snapped back to attention as she asked him a question.
“What?”
“I said is this all you have?”
“Yes, isn’t it frustrating?”
“yeah, but it depends on how you look at it.” She said pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asked quizzically looking at her with more then friendly affection.
“I mean if you look at the glass as half full or half empty. I’ll do a story tonight and see if we can’t breathe some new life into this Bernard case.”
“Do you think you can do that, Allison? It’s a decade old.”
“You never know who’s out there, someone may have seen something and after an entire decade, those sort of things can build up on you.”
“Okay, give it a shot.”
“I need your help.”
“Sure, anything.”
“I need to see the mansion.” Connor grabbed his coat and car keys and escorted her to his car.
Pretty soon, they were driving on the poshest of roads, it was more like a gated community. Manicured lawns, brilliant rose gardens, and the smell of spring permeated the air. As they drove with the windows open. It was a gorgeous day, the kind that made you thankful you were alive to witness such a picture perfect day.
They got out of the car, and Connor led Allison into the foyer, the Bernard’s still lived there, but they weren’t home at the moment. Amelia the maid showed them the now infamous crime scene area, Allison knew that this is where she should broadcast her story. The exact scene might trigger some memories. As she looked at the marble floor, she wondered about the struggle that had occurred there which had ultimately led to Martha’s death. Even though the blood had long since been washed away, Allison wondered if forensics could shed any light on what had occurred. She recalled reading about a chemical called luminol, and when sprayed, it glowed in the presence of blood. She pondered this before turning to Connor.
“Have you tried luminol?”
“What?”
“Have you tried luminol?”
“Yes, I was just a little surprised that you knew about it.”
“It glows in the presence of blood.”
“Yes, that’s right. The forensics team was out here years ago, but nothing turned up. We still don’t have a murder weapon. Although, the shell casing was a 22.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can fit into my report.”
“I’m normally not this bold, but would you like to go out to dinner tonight?”
“Great, we can get to know each other a little better.”
“Sounds good to me. What time should I pick you up?” Connor asked glancing at his watch.
“Hmm, let’s see, I should have the story done in an hour, how’s 7-30?”
“Fine, where do you live?”
“Do you know where The Woods are?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s 24 Fallcrest Drive Apartment 3A.”
“Okay that’s good.” They talked about what restaurant to dine at while Connor drove her back to the station for her car. As he watched her drive away, he knew he was beginning to fall in love.
Allison was busily doing her hair, she didn’t consider this a date, but she wanted to look nice. She put on a blue cotton dress with her new blue sandals. She had purchased blue trapezoid earrings a month earlier and had never warn them. Now she would get her chance, she reached into the jewelry box and put them on. Just as she was curling her hair, the doorbell rang. She shut off the curling iron and timidly opened the door.
“Hi, am I late?” Connor asked stepping into her apartment.
“No, right on time. Can I get you anything to drink? I have iced tea, lemonade, coffee, and soda.”
“My goodness, you’re quite the little homemaker aren’t you?” he asked sitting on the couch. He surmised that Allison had made the blue curtains and the gray slip covers for the couch and loveseat. She noticed him eyeing her handiwork.
“Oh, those? I made them ages ago.”
“Well, they’re beautiful.”
“Thanks. How about that drink? I have wine too.”
“No, soda’s fine with me.” She went into the kitchen and a few minutes later brought out two glasses of soda. She pulled the end table between them as they sipped their soda, they talked about their lives.
“So, how long have you been a reporter?”
“About 3 years now. I love it, it’s intriguing, and it’s certainly not the run of the mill job every day.”
“No, it sure isn’t. Neither is being a detective. Although you don’t always get to see the best side of human nature.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes the crimes I cover are horrendous. I didn’t always want to be a reporter.”
“Oh?” Connor inquired sipping his soda. He looked into her blue eyes and knew there was more.
“It all started when my mother came to visit me here. This was my first apartment, and she hated it.” She smiled remembering her mother’s soft voice, her caring eyes.
“She said this place was a dump and I shouldn’t be living here. I disagreed, I thought I knew more than she did. Boy, was I wrong, she was the best. Supportive, always there to lend a helping hand to someone in need, and she was more than just a mother. She was my best friend.” Her eyes began to fill with tears and she reached for a tissue.
“Oh I’m sorry. I had no idea.” He said, she looked into his eyes and saw genuine sympathy.
“Thank you. Mom stormed out of here, and as she was driving home, she was car jacked. She was going to give him the car, but he pulled a gun and shot her. By the time Dad and I got to the hospital she was gone.” He reached out and touched her hand. At first, his touch made her tremble, but then she relaxed. It was the most natural thing in the world, and she wondered why she was telling her life’s story to a complete stranger. She was usually a very private person, but somehow with Connor it felt right.
“I’m sorry.” He said softly.
“Thank you, Connor. That’s why I became a reporter, to help families find peace and closure. Will you listen to me? I’m rambling on here, I’m sorry I didn’t expect to go on like that.”
“It’s all right, it’s good to let your emotions out.”
“So, what about you?” he took another sip of soda.
“Well, I’m divorced. My wife Grace had an affair. So I haven’t been up to much, just getting back into the dating scene.” Allison took a sip of soda and leaned back on the couch listening to him with interest.
“That’s hard, it’s hard to find the right person.”
“Yeah especially in this day and age.” Allison smiled and once again, Connor was captivated. They decided to dine at La Luna a romantic out-of-the-way restaurant.
La Luna was one of the hottest restaurants in town, a spot for lovers and those falling in love. It boasted a spectacular view of the river, excellent food, and impeccable service. The air was a filled with the murmur of the dinner crowd and the smell of bread baking. Allison loved the ambiance of the place, and made a mental note to come here more often. She was fascinated by their extensive menu, and they finally decide on their appetizer. They ordered an appetizer of chicken wings, and mozzarella sticks, and Connor told her of his failing marriage, and how Grace’s betrayal had destroyed him.
“We had been married for 12 years, I loved her with my heart and soul. I never thought that she would cheat on me. But she did, I walked in on them, and it was pretty shocking.” Now, it was her turn to comfort him.
“I’m sorry.” She said softly.
“It’s all right, I live with it day by day.”
“That’s hard to go through. I can’t imagine how I would feel if anyone did that to me.”
“I couldn’t imagine it for a while either, and I lived it. I was in shock one moment, and wanted to put our marriage back together the next. I did everything, I ranted at her, and I brought her flowers and candy. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Grace had a certain magnetism, a charm. But I’d never lived without her in my life. We were next door neighbors and it blossomed from there. But after a while, I realized that I didn’t trust her.” He took a bite of a mozzarella stick while Allison dipped a chicken wing in sauce.
“If there’s no trust, there’s no marriage.”
“I agree, Connor. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”
“Thanks, the important thing, is that it’s over.”
They talked for a long time about the Bernard case, Allison told him of the report that she had done. He seemed impressed, taken with her every word and movement. As she lay in bed that night, Allison had a feeling that dinner was more than a friendly gesture. She had a wonderful evening, sharing and laughing with him. She could picture herself with him, but what would he think of her? Thoughts of Connor Cassidy filled her head as she drifted off to sleep.
He watched her report from his small black and white in the bedroom. He loved seeing her on the screen, he thought she was beautiful. He had followed every story she had ever covered, and thought that Allison Shure was the best reporter WFTR ever had. Mark sat in his armed chair and turned up the sound, the story was starting and he wanted to hear what she had to say.
“I’m here at the infamous Bernard mansion. You may remember that socialite Martha Bernard was brutally murdered nearly a decade earlier in this posh estate.” A picture of the mansion and its grounds was flashed across the screen.
“This is where the beautiful young woman’s life came to a tragic end, at the hands of a masked intruder. Martha Bernard was not only beautiful outside, but inside as well. It is a mystery why anyone would want to cut this promising young life short. There are many peculiar things about this case. Discrepancies that don’t make sense, for example Mark Renson, Martha Bernard’s boyfriend and Celia Clark a maid at the Bernard’s have differing accounts of the events that occurred that horrific night. Police Chief Charlie Chattum has stated that there is renewed interest in this case, and anyone with any information is asked to call the local police. You may also recall that Mark Renson was the prime suspect in the case, but since there were no usable finger prints, and DNA testing was not yet available, no charges were ever filed. Can this ten-year-old case be solved using scientific advances? Hopefully this baffling mystery will finally be solved, Allison Shure WFTR News.” Mark got up and turned off the TV. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He was going to stop Allison’s curiosity once and for all.
Connor waited for Allison to arrive. She was a few minutes late. He bought two cups of coffee and set them on his desk while he waited. The good thing about this case was that he got to see her every day. He was slowly falling in love with her, all his dreams were about her. Holding her, kissing her and making love to her. They had been working together for over a month, and their attraction couldn’t be denied. He started to get worried as he glanced at the clock. He tried her cell, but he got her voicemail.
“Allison, it’s Connor. Please call me. I’m worried about you.” He hung up exasperated, he had a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Allison drove to work at her usual pace. She thought the car wasn’t stopping correctly, but thought it was just her imagination. But suddenly, as she went to stop for a traffic light, the car kept going. The breaks had locked and the accelerator was stuck to the floor. The car careened out of control, as Allison did her best to stop it. But it was no use, the careened off the highway, sending Allison off the road into a tree. The impact was deafening, shards of glass and metal could be heard as they crunched together. The impact had also shattered the windshield and the windows. But luckily, Allison was unscathed. At first, she was so stunned, she just sat there, but then she pulled out her cell and turned it on. She saw she had messages and punched in her password. Just as she heard Connor’s anguished voice, there was a tap on her window. She shut off the phone and stared at the man.
“Need help?” Mark asked cheerfully.
“I do, actually.”
“Something wrong?” he knew the answer even before he asked, he just wanted to hear it for himself.
“My breaks just locked up! And the accelerator too!”
“Can I give you a lift anywhere?”
“Yes to the police station.”
“Why what happened? Is anything wrong?”
“Other then my car, no. I’m a reporter, I’m working on a case.”
“Oh, sure thing. I’m Mark Renson.” Fingers of fear filled her heart as she realized who this man was.
“Oh, I’m Allison Shure. Nice to meet you.” She didn’t want him to get suspicious, so she got out of the car and into the passenger seat of his.
Within minutes, they were at the police station. Mark said that he would keep an eye on her car until the tow truck got there. She thought it was a little odd, but maybe he was a nice guy. The police didn’t have any real evidence linking him to Martha Bernard’s murder. Maybe they were wrong, Allison thought as she stepped into Connor’s office.
“Allison! I’ve been worried about you!. Didn’t you get my messages?”
“I did, I’m sorry. I got stuck with my car. I had the most bizarre encounter with Mark Renson.”
“Mark Renson?” Connor repeated in shock.
“Yeah, he helped me get here. The breaks and accelerator locked up on my car and I crashed into a tree. It was strange, I had just careened off the road into the tree when Mark showed up. Maybe he tampered with my car.”
“This is too dangerous for you now! Now he’s playing games with your life!”
“Connor relax, he didn’t hurt me. Besides, I think he liked me, maybe I can charm him into talking.”
“No! you’re not doing anything of the kind!”
“What’s the matter with you? I’m a reporter! And this is a hot story!”
“I don’t want you getting hurt!”
“I’m not going to get hurt.”
“Don’t do this, Allison!. I care about you.”
“I know you do, Connor, but nothing’s going to happen to me.” He knew he wasn’t going to win so he sat down defeated in his chair. He handed her the cup of coffee that was now lukewarm.
“Thank you. That was so sweet of you.” She said smiling at him. He looked into her eyes and melted. She was captivated by his brown eyes, they held so much promise and wisdom. She pushed the thought aside and reached for the Mark Renson file on the desk.
“You’re welcome, I know how much you love coffee. Hazelnut is your favorite.” He said with a wink. She smiled at him and laughed.
“You’re right, thank you, Connor. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“That’s all right, you’re safe that’s the important thing.”
“It’s a murder case, Connor not a mob hit! You’d think what the hell I was getting into.”
“With Mark Renson you never know.”
“I’ll be careful.” He touched her hand and nodded.
“Okay, that’s all I ask.” He knew he would have to tell her one of these days, just not in a police station. He wanted to declare his love for her in a place like La Luna. Romantic, warm and full of charm.
Allison was lost in concentration as she read the file. She skimmed the last page, something jumped out at her. At the end of the document was a notation that read: Mark Renson also suspected of murdering his former girlfriend Marlena Swenson. She put down the file and looked at Connor.
“Did you see this notation here?”
“Which one?” he asked looking the file over.
“Right here,” she said pointing with her finger. “it says that Mark was the prime suspect in Marlena Swenson’s murder.”
“No, I never saw that. I’ll pull up the case.” Connor said going to the computer which sat on a dusty desk next to a multitude of books on forensics. Within minutes, he had the details of Marlena’s murder up on the screen. Allison peered over his shoulder to read the monitor.
“The crime scenes look similar don’t they?” she asked hypothesizing that Mark was also responsible for the Swenson murder.
“Yes, very. The only difference is that Marlena’s finger nails were broken in a struggle. Same story, she was attacked and shot. Mark was guess where?”
“Sleeping.” Allison said confidently staring at the file in front of her.
“That’s right, let’s give you a prize.” Connor said in an attempt to make her laugh. She gave him a tender smile.
“Do you think he did it?” she asked trying to read his thoughts.
“I do, but I don’t have any evidence to back it up.”
“Well, let’s find some and see if we can link him to both murders.” Allison said perusing the computer screen.
They worked all day looking at interviews with Mark’s parents, brother and Martha’s parents. All of them had alibis accept Mark. But just because he didn’t have an alibi didn’t mean he was guilty either. Allison kept staring at the Marlena Swenson file. The murders were definitely linked. But who killed both women? They were no closer to answering that question at the end of the day than they were at the beginning. Allison glanced at the clock, she had to report on the ongoing progress of the investigation, and had to get back to the station. Connor was scrutinizing every interview and audio tape available. He was listening to Mark’s explanation of what had transpired the night of Martha’s murder with rapt attention. Allison wrote down a few tidbits and then turned to go.
“You’re leaving already?”
“I have to get back and file this report. Can you give me a lift to the station?”
“Sure. Did the mechanic ever call about your car?”
“Yeah, it’s going to be over $600 to fix everything. He told me the car was tampered with.”
“I think our boy Mark has been up to his usual tricks.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can get out of him.” She said smiling sweetly at him.
“No! you’re going to put that idea out of your head right now. He’s a dangerous man and I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Okay, for now.” She said in defeat. She thanked him for the lift and got out of the car. Connor watched her as she disappeared into the building. He had a sinking feeling that someone was following her.
Mark sat in his usual spot to watch Allison’s report. She was a fascinating person, and his encounter had only fueled his desire to stop her from finding out the truth. She was a determined person, and he knew that nothing short of murder would stop her. He was going to make sure that she didn’t solve this case even if he had to kill her to accomplish it. Tonight, she had said that the murder of Martha Bernard and Marlena Swenson were similar. The police weren’t sure if they were linked, but Allison’s report was fuel for an ever growing firestorm of controversy. Mark’s family believed he was innocent and just in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, he had been the last person to see Martha alive and wasn’t successful in defending her against the masked intruder. While the Bernard’s and the police believed that he was guilty, they just didn’t have the scientific evidence to prove it yet. He knew that Allison was trying her hardest to find out who killed both women.
“You’ll find out! One way or another!” he said as Allison finished her report. He laughed coldly and began to hatch his diabolical plan.
Allison walked into her apartment and set her briefcase by the front door. Scarlet was squawking like a lunatic and she wondered what was wrong. In all the years she had him, he had never squawked this much. Allison threw off her sweater and ran to the cage. The moment she opened the door, Scarlet jumped on to her hand.
“What’s the matter, baby? Aren’t you feeling well?” Scarlet looked up at her and squawked again.
“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she soothed stroking his feathers lightly. He seemed to settle down and she put him back after petting him for a while. Allison was just about to go into the kitchen to get something to drink when she saw it. A yellow slip of paper lying on the floor by the front door. She picked it up and read it.
Dear Allison,
Our encounter today wasn’t just a coincidence. I planned it, as I planned your little mishap this morning with your car. We will meet again soon, there is no doubt of that. But where and when will be up to you. See you again soon.
Mark Renson
Allison shook with fear, she had no idea that Mark Renson could be this evil. Connor’s outburst had been right on target. He had begged her all through lunch not to pursue Mark. He had warned her that he was dangerous, and now she knew how right he was.
The alarm rang at a deafening volume, Allison opened her eyes sleepily and glanced at the clock. She squinted to read it through the blinding sunlight that was pouring in her window. The sun warmed and illuminated everything in its path, and reminded her of candles on a birthday cake. Even the corners of her tiny room were streaked with brilliant light. It was 6 O’clock and she knew she had to get up and start the day. She had never been a morning person, so she just laid in bed for a few more minutes, before drifting off to sleep again. She woke up several minutes later in a panic thinking she was late for work. Reluctantly Allison sat up and searched for her slippers. Finding them lying beside the bed, she reached for her robe and tied the belt around her waist.
The floor creaked under her feet as she made her way slowly down the hall to the kitchen. The apartment was small, one bedroom, one bath, a modest living room, and a small kitchen. But it was all she could afford. Allison lived in Connecticut’s lower district. Although Fallwood was a pretty town, it had its share of crime and run down buildings. The apartment building was back a few yards, set off to the side near some overgrown shrubs the locals called “The woods”. As she walked into the kitchen, Allison caught sight of a picture of her mother she kept on the counter. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered her. Allison looked somewhat like her, dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right into your soul and an awesome figure. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, she remembered her mother’s reaction when she had first seen the apartment.
Her mother had been appalled that Allison wanted to live there and was staunchly against it. Connecticut’s lower district wasn’t permeated by crime, but it wasn’t immune to it either. They had argued about it for days, until her mother finally gave up in defeat and stormed out the door. While she was driving home, Marie Shure was flagged down by a motorist. He asked her if she had a cell phone, Marie always wanting to help someone in need reached in her purse. As she was retrieving it, the man explained that he was having car trouble and just needed it to call a family friend.
The man took it grateful for her kindness and dialed his friend, who he claimed was a mechanic. Marie was about to drive away when the man turned on her and pulled out a gun. He told her to get into the passenger seat, she reluctantly obeyed and watched as the man drove along the street to the deserted area known as “The Woods”. He pulled over and got out of the car, she knew he was either going to rape her or kill her. Marie saw her opportunity, and grabbed her cell phone which was lying on the dashboard. Her heart was pounding and she shook with fear, but she quickly dialed 911. The man was infuriated and reached for his gun, he pointed the gun and fired. She was killed instantly by a single gunshot wound. After that horrific day, Allison vowed to bring her mother’s killer to justice. Her father, Jack was broken hearted as was Allison. It was a struggle to go on every day, but somehow they both managed. Allison was her father’s stabilizing force, as they both comforted each other through the traumatizing ordeal.
Several months later, Allison graduated from college with a degree in journalism. She told her father on graduation day that she would be a crime reporter and help families find peace and closure. He applauded her efforts and Allison was soon picked up by WFTR a local news station. The crime rate had been drastically reduced, due to the hiring of a new police chief, so there wasn’t much crime in Fallwood. So Allison settled into a comfortable slot as a news reporter and covered crimes when they happened.
Allison was flooded with memories of her mother as she set her coffee cup on the counter and went to start the shower, while it was warming up, she fed her rose breasted cockatoo, Scarlet. He was beautiful with silky feathers, colors of the rainbow, and a massive beak. Even though his beak could do serious damage, Allison knew he would never hurt her. He was gray, pink and white, and reminded her of a magnificent rainbow. He had the most beautiful black eyes she had ever seen, and bounced on his dish when he saw her. As usual, Scarlet leapt on to her hand and kissed her nose.
“Hi, Scarlet, how are you this morning?” he bounced happy to be with her. Scarlet had helped her through many hard times after her mother’s death. Allison found him one day after wandering into a pet store to buy a cat for her father. She thought he could use some companionship, so a kitten would be the perfect gift. She found a pretty frisky kitten and then she saw Scarlet. His eyes looked so unbearably sad, that she knew she had to do something.
She was afraid of large birds, and cautiously reached her hand out to pet him. He immediately climbed on to her arm and said “I love you!” Allison was sold and paid for the kitten and the beautiful parrot.
“You’re getting breakfast early this morning, fellow!. I have to go to work. But I love you and will play with you later.” Scarlet watched as she scooped food into his dish, once she was finished she got into the shower.
Doug Stanton was at his desk when the call came in. He ran WFTR one of the local news stations. He was about fifty, tall and slender, with graying brown hair, haunting dark eyes, and a southern accent. Doug was originally from Texas, but had moved to Fallwood due to its lifestyle and sense of community. In Fallwood, newcomers were treated like royalty, and the locals were hospitable and friendly. Doug put down his coffee cup and picked up the ringing phone.
“Good morning, WFTR.”
“Good morning, Doug. It’s Connor Cassidy. How are you this morning?” Connor was one of the most respected detectives on the Cold Case Unit. His sharp mind and attention to minute detail had solved several cases the police had on the books. Doug smiled when he heard the voice, always happy to hear from Connor.
“Hi, Connor, I’m fine. How about yourself?”
“Fine, Doug. I have a case I’d like you to cover.”
“Oh?” Doug inquired taking a sip of his coffee.
“The Martha Bernard case. There’s renewed interest by Charlie Chattum the new chief. Can you have one of your reporters do a story on it and see where it leads?” Doug put down his cup and looked at all the papers on his desk. He paused as he thought of an answer. That case was nearly a decade old, and hardly news worthy.
“Sure, I’ll send Allison Shure out to cover it. She’s one of our best!”
“Thanks, Doug I really appreciate it.”
Allison set her things down and headed to Doug’s office. It was almost like the headquarters of the station. Every morning, he’d give her a smile and a wink, and then proceed to tell her what her assignment was. She walked down the hall, and noticed the door slightly ajar. She tapped lightly.
“Come in.” Doug bellowed from his chair. He was hunched over his desk, engrossed in the latest paper work and news worthy stories.
“Good morning, Mr. Stanton.” Allison said softly giving him a smile.
“Oh, it’s Doug, you make me sound like an old man!. Good morning, Allison. How are you?” she’d worked there for almost 3 years and had never grown accustomed to calling him by his first name.
“Fine thank you. And you?”
“Fine, I’ve got a story for you, but it’s not news worthy.” She took the chair opposite him and looked into his eyes. Her smile always captivated him, not to mention her eyes. They were an expression of her thoughts, she could never hide anything. Her eyes gave her away, and if Doug wasn’t a happily married man he would have considered a little after work indulgence. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on the task at hand.
“I was asked by Connor Cassidy of the Cold Case Unit to have someone do a story on the Martha Bernard case.”
“Isn’t that a decade old?” Allison’s mind flashed back to the headline in the paper the morning of Martha’s murder. It read:
Beloved Socialite Meets Violent End!
“Yes, but there’s renewed interest by the new police chief Charlie Chattum. You’re one of our best reporters, Allison. Will you do it?” she blushed at the compliment and turned back to face him.
“Sure, when do I start?”
“Are all your edits and voice overs done?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, start right now.”
“Thank you, Mr. … I mean Doug.”
“You’re welcome.”
Connor Cassidy sat in his office perusing the Martha Bernard file. He gleaned the information, but couldn’t find anything new. The murder occurred nearly ten years earlier in the Bernard’s palatial home.
Twenty-four-year-old Martha was alone for the weekend. Her parents and brother had gone to visit some relatives in Virginia. So Martha had the entire house all to herself. It was enormous: complete with sixteen bedrooms, a wrap around deck, six baths, a living room, dining room, several recreation rooms, a spacious kitchen and spa. The Bernard’s came from a long line of entrepreneurs, they had an appetite for success and power. Not to mention the newly acquired homes, cars and yachts. By the time Martha was born, the Bernard’s had amassed a large fortune. There was a constant influx of money: from her uncle’s patent business, to her father’s law practice and hospital.
The servants kept to themselves and only appeared when the buzzer in the kitchen lit up. Martha had invited her boy friend Mark Renson to spend the weekend with her. They had a jovial time, drinking, dancing and listening to music. Occasionally, they would sneak upstairs and make love. The next morning, Mark was sleeping when he heard Martha’s scream. He woke and raced down the stairs to the foyer, there he saw Martha struggling with a masked man. The intruder wore sunglasses and a wig in an effort to further conceal his identity.
“Let me go!” Martha shouted punching the man, but he refused. Just then, as Mark was about to defend her, the masked intruder pulled out a gun and shot her. According to the servants, they had summoned the police, but had not seen the masked man that Mark so accurately described. For years, the police had lingering doubts regarding Mark’s involvement in the murder. They just had no proof. The murder weapon was never recovered, although the shell casing was retrieved and appeared to be a 22. The Bernard’s wanted answers and hopefully Connor would discover the true identity of the killer.
Connor skimmed the file again, there were a multitude of things about this case that just didn’t add up. But whoever knew the answers had kept them buried like a secret treasure. One of the odd things about the murder was the discrepancies in the stories. While Mark told a harrowing tale of murder and violence, the servants gave no indication that anything like that had transpired. The servants had claimed that no one had broken in to the house. They had heard Martha scream and called the police. On the contrary, Mark stated that there was a break in, but the police were skeptical. Mark claimed that the upstairs window, that led to the second floor bedroom was left partially open at night. But how would he have known that? Another peculiar thing was that there were no signs of a struggle until the foyer. If the break in had occurred on the second floor like Mark had stated, there would’ve been signs of a struggle throughout the house. Connor looked up when he heard the clack of high heels approaching his door. Allison timidly turned the knob and knocked.
“Come in.” Allison pushed open the door and walked in. She took a seat across from Connor and reached to shake his hand.
“Hi, I’m Allison Shure, I’m pleased to meet you. I’m with WFTR News.” He was struck by her beauty, her dark hair and blue eyes made her seem radiant. She was wearing a pretty blue skirt, with a silk blouse to match. The outfit was accentuated by the silver earrings that adorned her.
“Hi, I’m Connor Cassidy. I’m delighted to meet you. Looks like we’ll be working together.” She liked him already, he was charming and seem personable.
“It sure does. What do you have on the Bernard murder? Anything new?” Connor handed the file to her and explained the current state of the investigation. It had been cold for years, there were no leads. Although Mark Renson was their prime suspect, they had no DNA evidence to link him to the murder.
As she perused the file, Allison glanced at Connor. His chiseled good looks gave him a rugged appearance, but conveyed a softness and an honesty that was rare. He had wavy blond hair and brown eyes. He was about 5 foot 10, and wore faded jeans and a short sleeved shirt. She found him very attractive and tried to focus on her work.
She was engrossed in reading all the details of the murder, even though some were gory. But she thought they may prove useful in the future, so she soaked all the information in like a sponge. Connor however, couldn’t concentrate, and kept staring at her. Allison was alluring and captivating, her smile, her eyes. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in months, not since Grace. As he watched her work, he thought of his ex-wife and what had led them to eventually go their separate ways.
Grace had long blond hair, green eyes and a pretty face. She was a little round, but not fat. Everyone said that they were an odd match, Connor was quiet, Grace was talkative, he was spontaneous, and she was predictable. But in spite of their differences they had remained together for 12 years. Until that fateful night. Connor closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair enveloped by the memory.
He had worked a late shift at the station, and didn’t get finished until 4 A.M. Connor and his partner had caught a man burglarizing his ex-girlfriend’s home and were about to arrest him, when he pulled out a gun and took his niece hostage. It took the swat team and hostage negotiator five hours to secure the little girl’s safe release and to obtain the man’s surrender. Even after that the man still had to be booked and charged. Connor got out of his car and wearily climbed the stairs that led to the small house on Oak Street. It was a small but modest home, with a manicured lawn, complimented by some oaks and pines, it was picturesque. Connor slipped inside and closed the door softly behind him. Quietly, he began to make his way down the hall that led to the bedroom he shared with Grace. Just then, he heard moaning, Connor immediately thought Grace was injured or having a nightmare and rushed into the bedroom to save her.
“Grace! Grace? What’s …” he stood there in shocked disbelief, unable to process the scene before him. A dark haired man quickly pulled on his pants and shirt and stood at the foot of the bed looking adoringly at Grace.
“Grace, I love you, I guess the jig is up!”
“I love you too, I’ll see you again real soon.”
“With a night like we just had, you bet!” he kissed her and left. The moment he was gone, tears began falling down Grace’s cheeks. She didn’t try to stop them as she looked at her husband who was deeply wounded by her betrayal.
“Connor …”
“Don’t even try that, Grace! I came in here because I thought you were hurt! And you’re making love to another man!. How long has this been going on?” he paced furiously hoping that she would answer honestly, but she made no attempt to answer his question.
“Well? I’d like an answer!”
“Uh … a few months.”
“A few months? You haven’t been faithful to me! I’m ashamed of you.”
“Connor if you would just let me explain …”
“Explain what, Grace? I gave you the best years of my life, I love you! I will always love you, and you don’t care. You just threw our marriage away!”
“I didn’t break my marriage vows!”
“What do you call that scene I just witnessed? Hot nights without love making?”
“I understand you’re upset, but we can work this out! I’m not ready to end our marriage over this!”
They had tried for months to embrace, to kiss, and even once attempted to make love. They had even tried opening up about their feelings, Grace wanted to save their marriage, but Connor didn’t trust her anymore. It was heart breaking but he knew where there was no trust, there was no marriage. That didn’t mean that he stopped trying however. Grace broke off her tryst with her dark-haired lover. Later, Connor found out that the man was Alan Parks.
The Alan Parks, of the Parks and Bernard law firm. It was all over the papers, and his life was one big joke. The worst thing was he had lost Grace. Pretty, vibrant, vivacious Grace. Her energy was infectious, and anyone who was around her became enthralled and enchanted. She had a certain sparkle, a beauty and the ability to illuminate a room with her zest for life. But she had chosen to end their marriage.
In a last ditch effort to save his marriage, Connor had sought out the advice of a marriage counselor, but nothing could save them. The divorce had been finalized a few months ago, and Connor hadn’t dated much. But now Allison was opening the door to his passion and stoking his fire. He snapped back to attention as she asked him a question.
“What?”
“I said is this all you have?”
“Yes, isn’t it frustrating?”
“yeah, but it depends on how you look at it.” She said pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asked quizzically looking at her with more then friendly affection.
“I mean if you look at the glass as half full or half empty. I’ll do a story tonight and see if we can’t breathe some new life into this Bernard case.”
“Do you think you can do that, Allison? It’s a decade old.”
“You never know who’s out there, someone may have seen something and after an entire decade, those sort of things can build up on you.”
“Okay, give it a shot.”
“I need your help.”
“Sure, anything.”
“I need to see the mansion.” Connor grabbed his coat and car keys and escorted her to his car.
Pretty soon, they were driving on the poshest of roads, it was more like a gated community. Manicured lawns, brilliant rose gardens, and the smell of spring permeated the air. As they drove with the windows open. It was a gorgeous day, the kind that made you thankful you were alive to witness such a picture perfect day.
They got out of the car, and Connor led Allison into the foyer, the Bernard’s still lived there, but they weren’t home at the moment. Amelia the maid showed them the now infamous crime scene area, Allison knew that this is where she should broadcast her story. The exact scene might trigger some memories. As she looked at the marble floor, she wondered about the struggle that had occurred there which had ultimately led to Martha’s death. Even though the blood had long since been washed away, Allison wondered if forensics could shed any light on what had occurred. She recalled reading about a chemical called luminol, and when sprayed, it glowed in the presence of blood. She pondered this before turning to Connor.
“Have you tried luminol?”
“What?”
“Have you tried luminol?”
“Yes, I was just a little surprised that you knew about it.”
“It glows in the presence of blood.”
“Yes, that’s right. The forensics team was out here years ago, but nothing turned up. We still don’t have a murder weapon. Although, the shell casing was a 22.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can fit into my report.”
“I’m normally not this bold, but would you like to go out to dinner tonight?”
“Great, we can get to know each other a little better.”
“Sounds good to me. What time should I pick you up?” Connor asked glancing at his watch.
“Hmm, let’s see, I should have the story done in an hour, how’s 7-30?”
“Fine, where do you live?”
“Do you know where The Woods are?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s 24 Fallcrest Drive Apartment 3A.”
“Okay that’s good.” They talked about what restaurant to dine at while Connor drove her back to the station for her car. As he watched her drive away, he knew he was beginning to fall in love.
Allison was busily doing her hair, she didn’t consider this a date, but she wanted to look nice. She put on a blue cotton dress with her new blue sandals. She had purchased blue trapezoid earrings a month earlier and had never warn them. Now she would get her chance, she reached into the jewelry box and put them on. Just as she was curling her hair, the doorbell rang. She shut off the curling iron and timidly opened the door.
“Hi, am I late?” Connor asked stepping into her apartment.
“No, right on time. Can I get you anything to drink? I have iced tea, lemonade, coffee, and soda.”
“My goodness, you’re quite the little homemaker aren’t you?” he asked sitting on the couch. He surmised that Allison had made the blue curtains and the gray slip covers for the couch and loveseat. She noticed him eyeing her handiwork.
“Oh, those? I made them ages ago.”
“Well, they’re beautiful.”
“Thanks. How about that drink? I have wine too.”
“No, soda’s fine with me.” She went into the kitchen and a few minutes later brought out two glasses of soda. She pulled the end table between them as they sipped their soda, they talked about their lives.
“So, how long have you been a reporter?”
“About 3 years now. I love it, it’s intriguing, and it’s certainly not the run of the mill job every day.”
“No, it sure isn’t. Neither is being a detective. Although you don’t always get to see the best side of human nature.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes the crimes I cover are horrendous. I didn’t always want to be a reporter.”
“Oh?” Connor inquired sipping his soda. He looked into her blue eyes and knew there was more.
“It all started when my mother came to visit me here. This was my first apartment, and she hated it.” She smiled remembering her mother’s soft voice, her caring eyes.
“She said this place was a dump and I shouldn’t be living here. I disagreed, I thought I knew more than she did. Boy, was I wrong, she was the best. Supportive, always there to lend a helping hand to someone in need, and she was more than just a mother. She was my best friend.” Her eyes began to fill with tears and she reached for a tissue.
“Oh I’m sorry. I had no idea.” He said, she looked into his eyes and saw genuine sympathy.
“Thank you. Mom stormed out of here, and as she was driving home, she was car jacked. She was going to give him the car, but he pulled a gun and shot her. By the time Dad and I got to the hospital she was gone.” He reached out and touched her hand. At first, his touch made her tremble, but then she relaxed. It was the most natural thing in the world, and she wondered why she was telling her life’s story to a complete stranger. She was usually a very private person, but somehow with Connor it felt right.
“I’m sorry.” He said softly.
“Thank you, Connor. That’s why I became a reporter, to help families find peace and closure. Will you listen to me? I’m rambling on here, I’m sorry I didn’t expect to go on like that.”
“It’s all right, it’s good to let your emotions out.”
“So, what about you?” he took another sip of soda.
“Well, I’m divorced. My wife Grace had an affair. So I haven’t been up to much, just getting back into the dating scene.” Allison took a sip of soda and leaned back on the couch listening to him with interest.
“That’s hard, it’s hard to find the right person.”
“Yeah especially in this day and age.” Allison smiled and once again, Connor was captivated. They decided to dine at La Luna a romantic out-of-the-way restaurant.
La Luna was one of the hottest restaurants in town, a spot for lovers and those falling in love. It boasted a spectacular view of the river, excellent food, and impeccable service. The air was a filled with the murmur of the dinner crowd and the smell of bread baking. Allison loved the ambiance of the place, and made a mental note to come here more often. She was fascinated by their extensive menu, and they finally decide on their appetizer. They ordered an appetizer of chicken wings, and mozzarella sticks, and Connor told her of his failing marriage, and how Grace’s betrayal had destroyed him.
“We had been married for 12 years, I loved her with my heart and soul. I never thought that she would cheat on me. But she did, I walked in on them, and it was pretty shocking.” Now, it was her turn to comfort him.
“I’m sorry.” She said softly.
“It’s all right, I live with it day by day.”
“That’s hard to go through. I can’t imagine how I would feel if anyone did that to me.”
“I couldn’t imagine it for a while either, and I lived it. I was in shock one moment, and wanted to put our marriage back together the next. I did everything, I ranted at her, and I brought her flowers and candy. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Grace had a certain magnetism, a charm. But I’d never lived without her in my life. We were next door neighbors and it blossomed from there. But after a while, I realized that I didn’t trust her.” He took a bite of a mozzarella stick while Allison dipped a chicken wing in sauce.
“If there’s no trust, there’s no marriage.”
“I agree, Connor. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”
“Thanks, the important thing, is that it’s over.”
They talked for a long time about the Bernard case, Allison told him of the report that she had done. He seemed impressed, taken with her every word and movement. As she lay in bed that night, Allison had a feeling that dinner was more than a friendly gesture. She had a wonderful evening, sharing and laughing with him. She could picture herself with him, but what would he think of her? Thoughts of Connor Cassidy filled her head as she drifted off to sleep.
He watched her report from his small black and white in the bedroom. He loved seeing her on the screen, he thought she was beautiful. He had followed every story she had ever covered, and thought that Allison Shure was the best reporter WFTR ever had. Mark sat in his armed chair and turned up the sound, the story was starting and he wanted to hear what she had to say.
“I’m here at the infamous Bernard mansion. You may remember that socialite Martha Bernard was brutally murdered nearly a decade earlier in this posh estate.” A picture of the mansion and its grounds was flashed across the screen.
“This is where the beautiful young woman’s life came to a tragic end, at the hands of a masked intruder. Martha Bernard was not only beautiful outside, but inside as well. It is a mystery why anyone would want to cut this promising young life short. There are many peculiar things about this case. Discrepancies that don’t make sense, for example Mark Renson, Martha Bernard’s boyfriend and Celia Clark a maid at the Bernard’s have differing accounts of the events that occurred that horrific night. Police Chief Charlie Chattum has stated that there is renewed interest in this case, and anyone with any information is asked to call the local police. You may also recall that Mark Renson was the prime suspect in the case, but since there were no usable finger prints, and DNA testing was not yet available, no charges were ever filed. Can this ten-year-old case be solved using scientific advances? Hopefully this baffling mystery will finally be solved, Allison Shure WFTR News.” Mark got up and turned off the TV. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He was going to stop Allison’s curiosity once and for all.
Connor waited for Allison to arrive. She was a few minutes late. He bought two cups of coffee and set them on his desk while he waited. The good thing about this case was that he got to see her every day. He was slowly falling in love with her, all his dreams were about her. Holding her, kissing her and making love to her. They had been working together for over a month, and their attraction couldn’t be denied. He started to get worried as he glanced at the clock. He tried her cell, but he got her voicemail.
“Allison, it’s Connor. Please call me. I’m worried about you.” He hung up exasperated, he had a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Allison drove to work at her usual pace. She thought the car wasn’t stopping correctly, but thought it was just her imagination. But suddenly, as she went to stop for a traffic light, the car kept going. The breaks had locked and the accelerator was stuck to the floor. The car careened out of control, as Allison did her best to stop it. But it was no use, the careened off the highway, sending Allison off the road into a tree. The impact was deafening, shards of glass and metal could be heard as they crunched together. The impact had also shattered the windshield and the windows. But luckily, Allison was unscathed. At first, she was so stunned, she just sat there, but then she pulled out her cell and turned it on. She saw she had messages and punched in her password. Just as she heard Connor’s anguished voice, there was a tap on her window. She shut off the phone and stared at the man.
“Need help?” Mark asked cheerfully.
“I do, actually.”
“Something wrong?” he knew the answer even before he asked, he just wanted to hear it for himself.
“My breaks just locked up! And the accelerator too!”
“Can I give you a lift anywhere?”
“Yes to the police station.”
“Why what happened? Is anything wrong?”
“Other then my car, no. I’m a reporter, I’m working on a case.”
“Oh, sure thing. I’m Mark Renson.” Fingers of fear filled her heart as she realized who this man was.
“Oh, I’m Allison Shure. Nice to meet you.” She didn’t want him to get suspicious, so she got out of the car and into the passenger seat of his.
Within minutes, they were at the police station. Mark said that he would keep an eye on her car until the tow truck got there. She thought it was a little odd, but maybe he was a nice guy. The police didn’t have any real evidence linking him to Martha Bernard’s murder. Maybe they were wrong, Allison thought as she stepped into Connor’s office.
“Allison! I’ve been worried about you!. Didn’t you get my messages?”
“I did, I’m sorry. I got stuck with my car. I had the most bizarre encounter with Mark Renson.”
“Mark Renson?” Connor repeated in shock.
“Yeah, he helped me get here. The breaks and accelerator locked up on my car and I crashed into a tree. It was strange, I had just careened off the road into the tree when Mark showed up. Maybe he tampered with my car.”
“This is too dangerous for you now! Now he’s playing games with your life!”
“Connor relax, he didn’t hurt me. Besides, I think he liked me, maybe I can charm him into talking.”
“No! you’re not doing anything of the kind!”
“What’s the matter with you? I’m a reporter! And this is a hot story!”
“I don’t want you getting hurt!”
“I’m not going to get hurt.”
“Don’t do this, Allison!. I care about you.”
“I know you do, Connor, but nothing’s going to happen to me.” He knew he wasn’t going to win so he sat down defeated in his chair. He handed her the cup of coffee that was now lukewarm.
“Thank you. That was so sweet of you.” She said smiling at him. He looked into her eyes and melted. She was captivated by his brown eyes, they held so much promise and wisdom. She pushed the thought aside and reached for the Mark Renson file on the desk.
“You’re welcome, I know how much you love coffee. Hazelnut is your favorite.” He said with a wink. She smiled at him and laughed.
“You’re right, thank you, Connor. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“That’s all right, you’re safe that’s the important thing.”
“It’s a murder case, Connor not a mob hit! You’d think what the hell I was getting into.”
“With Mark Renson you never know.”
“I’ll be careful.” He touched her hand and nodded.
“Okay, that’s all I ask.” He knew he would have to tell her one of these days, just not in a police station. He wanted to declare his love for her in a place like La Luna. Romantic, warm and full of charm.
Allison was lost in concentration as she read the file. She skimmed the last page, something jumped out at her. At the end of the document was a notation that read: Mark Renson also suspected of murdering his former girlfriend Marlena Swenson. She put down the file and looked at Connor.
“Did you see this notation here?”
“Which one?” he asked looking the file over.
“Right here,” she said pointing with her finger. “it says that Mark was the prime suspect in Marlena Swenson’s murder.”
“No, I never saw that. I’ll pull up the case.” Connor said going to the computer which sat on a dusty desk next to a multitude of books on forensics. Within minutes, he had the details of Marlena’s murder up on the screen. Allison peered over his shoulder to read the monitor.
“The crime scenes look similar don’t they?” she asked hypothesizing that Mark was also responsible for the Swenson murder.
“Yes, very. The only difference is that Marlena’s finger nails were broken in a struggle. Same story, she was attacked and shot. Mark was guess where?”
“Sleeping.” Allison said confidently staring at the file in front of her.
“That’s right, let’s give you a prize.” Connor said in an attempt to make her laugh. She gave him a tender smile.
“Do you think he did it?” she asked trying to read his thoughts.
“I do, but I don’t have any evidence to back it up.”
“Well, let’s find some and see if we can link him to both murders.” Allison said perusing the computer screen.
They worked all day looking at interviews with Mark’s parents, brother and Martha’s parents. All of them had alibis accept Mark. But just because he didn’t have an alibi didn’t mean he was guilty either. Allison kept staring at the Marlena Swenson file. The murders were definitely linked. But who killed both women? They were no closer to answering that question at the end of the day than they were at the beginning. Allison glanced at the clock, she had to report on the ongoing progress of the investigation, and had to get back to the station. Connor was scrutinizing every interview and audio tape available. He was listening to Mark’s explanation of what had transpired the night of Martha’s murder with rapt attention. Allison wrote down a few tidbits and then turned to go.
“You’re leaving already?”
“I have to get back and file this report. Can you give me a lift to the station?”
“Sure. Did the mechanic ever call about your car?”
“Yeah, it’s going to be over $600 to fix everything. He told me the car was tampered with.”
“I think our boy Mark has been up to his usual tricks.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can get out of him.” She said smiling sweetly at him.
“No! you’re going to put that idea out of your head right now. He’s a dangerous man and I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Okay, for now.” She said in defeat. She thanked him for the lift and got out of the car. Connor watched her as she disappeared into the building. He had a sinking feeling that someone was following her.
Mark sat in his usual spot to watch Allison’s report. She was a fascinating person, and his encounter had only fueled his desire to stop her from finding out the truth. She was a determined person, and he knew that nothing short of murder would stop her. He was going to make sure that she didn’t solve this case even if he had to kill her to accomplish it. Tonight, she had said that the murder of Martha Bernard and Marlena Swenson were similar. The police weren’t sure if they were linked, but Allison’s report was fuel for an ever growing firestorm of controversy. Mark’s family believed he was innocent and just in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, he had been the last person to see Martha alive and wasn’t successful in defending her against the masked intruder. While the Bernard’s and the police believed that he was guilty, they just didn’t have the scientific evidence to prove it yet. He knew that Allison was trying her hardest to find out who killed both women.
“You’ll find out! One way or another!” he said as Allison finished her report. He laughed coldly and began to hatch his diabolical plan.
Allison walked into her apartment and set her briefcase by the front door. Scarlet was squawking like a lunatic and she wondered what was wrong. In all the years she had him, he had never squawked this much. Allison threw off her sweater and ran to the cage. The moment she opened the door, Scarlet jumped on to her hand.
“What’s the matter, baby? Aren’t you feeling well?” Scarlet looked up at her and squawked again.
“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she soothed stroking his feathers lightly. He seemed to settle down and she put him back after petting him for a while. Allison was just about to go into the kitchen to get something to drink when she saw it. A yellow slip of paper lying on the floor by the front door. She picked it up and read it.
Dear Allison,
Our encounter today wasn’t just a coincidence. I planned it, as I planned your little mishap this morning with your car. We will meet again soon, there is no doubt of that. But where and when will be up to you. See you again soon.
Mark Renson
Allison shook with fear, she had no idea that Mark Renson could be this evil. Connor’s outburst had been right on target. He had begged her all through lunch not to pursue Mark. He had warned her that he was dangerous, and now she knew how right he was.
The floor creaked under her feet as she made her way slowly down the hall to the kitchen. The apartment was small, one bedroom, one bath, a modest living room, and a small kitchen. But it was all she could afford. Allison lived in Connecticut’s lower district. Although Fallwood was a pretty town, it had its share of crime and run down buildings. The apartment building was back a few yards, set off to the side near some overgrown shrubs the locals called “The woods”. As she walked into the kitchen, Allison caught sight of a picture of her mother she kept on the counter. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered her. Allison looked somewhat like her, dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right into your soul and an awesome figure. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, she remembered her mother’s reaction when she had first seen the apartment.
Her mother had been appalled that Allison wanted to live there and was staunchly against it. Connecticut’s lower district wasn’t permeated by crime, but it wasn’t immune to it either. They had argued about it for days, until her mother finally gave up in defeat and stormed out the door. While she was driving home, Marie Shure was flagged down by a motorist. He asked her if she had a cell phone, Marie always wanting to help someone in need reached in her purse. As she was retrieving it, the man explained that he was having car trouble and just needed it to call a family friend.
The man took it grateful for her kindness and dialed his friend, who he claimed was a mechanic. Marie was about to drive away when the man turned on her and pulled out a gun. He told her to get into the passenger seat, she reluctantly obeyed and watched as the man drove along the street to the deserted area known as “The Woods”. He pulled over and got out of the car, she knew he was either going to rape her or kill her. Marie saw her opportunity, and grabbed her cell phone which was lying on the dashboard. Her heart was pounding and she shook with fear, but she quickly dialed 911. The man was infuriated and reached for his gun, he pointed the gun and fired. She was killed instantly by a single gunshot wound. After that horrific day, Allison vowed to bring her mother’s killer to justice. Her father, Jack was broken hearted as was Allison. It was a struggle to go on every day, but somehow they both managed. Allison was her father’s stabilizing force, as they both comforted each other through the traumatizing ordeal.
Several months later, Allison graduated from college with a degree in journalism. She told her father on graduation day that she would be a crime reporter and help families find peace and closure. He applauded her efforts and Allison was soon picked up by WFTR a local news station. The crime rate had been drastically reduced, due to the hiring of a new police chief, so there wasn’t much crime in Fallwood. So Allison settled into a comfortable slot as a news reporter and covered crimes when they happened.
Allison was flooded with memories of her mother as she set her coffee cup on the counter and went to start the shower, while it was warming up, she fed her rose breasted cockatoo, Scarlet. He was beautiful with silky feathers, colors of the rainbow, and a massive beak. Even though his beak could do serious damage, Allison knew he would never hurt her. He was gray, pink and white, and reminded her of a magnificent rainbow. He had the most beautiful black eyes she had ever seen, and bounced on his dish when he saw her. As usual, Scarlet leapt on to her hand and kissed her nose.
“Hi, Scarlet, how are you this morning?” he bounced happy to be with her. Scarlet had helped her through many hard times after her mother’s death. Allison found him one day after wandering into a pet store to buy a cat for her father. She thought he could use some companionship, so a kitten would be the perfect gift. She found a pretty frisky kitten and then she saw Scarlet. His eyes looked so unbearably sad, that she knew she had to do something.
She was afraid of large birds, and cautiously reached her hand out to pet him. He immediately climbed on to her arm and said “I love you!” Allison was sold and paid for the kitten and the beautiful parrot.
“You’re getting breakfast early this morning, fellow!. I have to go to work. But I love you and will play with you later.” Scarlet watched as she scooped food into his dish, once she was finished she got into the shower.
Doug Stanton was at his desk when the call came in. He ran WFTR one of the local news stations. He was about fifty, tall and slender, with graying brown hair, haunting dark eyes, and a southern accent. Doug was originally from Texas, but had moved to Fallwood due to its lifestyle and sense of community. In Fallwood, newcomers were treated like royalty, and the locals were hospitable and friendly. Doug put down his coffee cup and picked up the ringing phone.
“Good morning, WFTR.”
“Good morning, Doug. It’s Connor Cassidy. How are you this morning?” Connor was one of the most respected detectives on the Cold Case Unit. His sharp mind and attention to minute detail had solved several cases the police had on the books. Doug smiled when he heard the voice, always happy to hear from Connor.
“Hi, Connor, I’m fine. How about yourself?”
“Fine, Doug. I have a case I’d like you to cover.”
“Oh?” Doug inquired taking a sip of his coffee.
“The Martha Bernard case. There’s renewed interest by Charlie Chattum the new chief. Can you have one of your reporters do a story on it and see where it leads?” Doug put down his cup and looked at all the papers on his desk. He paused as he thought of an answer. That case was nearly a decade old, and hardly news worthy.
“Sure, I’ll send Allison Shure out to cover it. She’s one of our best!”
“Thanks, Doug I really appreciate it.”
Allison set her things down and headed to Doug’s office. It was almost like the headquarters of the station. Every morning, he’d give her a smile and a wink, and then proceed to tell her what her assignment was. She walked down the hall, and noticed the door slightly ajar. She tapped lightly.
“Come in.” Doug bellowed from his chair. He was hunched over his desk, engrossed in the latest paper work and news worthy stories.
“Good morning, Mr. Stanton.” Allison said softly giving him a smile.
“Oh, it’s Doug, you make me sound like an old man!. Good morning, Allison. How are you?” she’d worked there for almost 3 years and had never grown accustomed to calling him by his first name.
“Fine thank you. And you?”
“Fine, I’ve got a story for you, but it’s not news worthy.” She took the chair opposite him and looked into his eyes. Her smile always captivated him, not to mention her eyes. They were an expression of her thoughts, she could never hide anything. Her eyes gave her away, and if Doug wasn’t a happily married man he would have considered a little after work indulgence. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on the task at hand.
“I was asked by Connor Cassidy of the Cold Case Unit to have someone do a story on the Martha Bernard case.”
“Isn’t that a decade old?” Allison’s mind flashed back to the headline in the paper the morning of Martha’s murder. It read:
Beloved Socialite Meets Violent End!
“Yes, but there’s renewed interest by the new police chief Charlie Chattum. You’re one of our best reporters, Allison. Will you do it?” she blushed at the compliment and turned back to face him.
“Sure, when do I start?”
“Are all your edits and voice overs done?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, start right now.”
“Thank you, Mr. … I mean Doug.”
“You’re welcome.”
Connor Cassidy sat in his office perusing the Martha Bernard file. He gleaned the information, but couldn’t find anything new. The murder occurred nearly ten years earlier in the Bernard’s palatial home.
Twenty-four-year-old Martha was alone for the weekend. Her parents and brother had gone to visit some relatives in Virginia. So Martha had the entire house all to herself. It was enormous: complete with sixteen bedrooms, a wrap around deck, six baths, a living room, dining room, several recreation rooms, a spacious kitchen and spa. The Bernard’s came from a long line of entrepreneurs, they had an appetite for success and power. Not to mention the newly acquired homes, cars and yachts. By the time Martha was born, the Bernard’s had amassed a large fortune. There was a constant influx of money: from her uncle’s patent business, to her father’s law practice and hospital.
The servants kept to themselves and only appeared when the buzzer in the kitchen lit up. Martha had invited her boy friend Mark Renson to spend the weekend with her. They had a jovial time, drinking, dancing and listening to music. Occasionally, they would sneak upstairs and make love. The next morning, Mark was sleeping when he heard Martha’s scream. He woke and raced down the stairs to the foyer, there he saw Martha struggling with a masked man. The intruder wore sunglasses and a wig in an effort to further conceal his identity.
“Let me go!” Martha shouted punching the man, but he refused. Just then, as Mark was about to defend her, the masked intruder pulled out a gun and shot her. According to the servants, they had summoned the police, but had not seen the masked man that Mark so accurately described. For years, the police had lingering doubts regarding Mark’s involvement in the murder. They just had no proof. The murder weapon was never recovered, although the shell casing was retrieved and appeared to be a 22. The Bernard’s wanted answers and hopefully Connor would discover the true identity of the killer.
Connor skimmed the file again, there were a multitude of things about this case that just didn’t add up. But whoever knew the answers had kept them buried like a secret treasure. One of the odd things about the murder was the discrepancies in the stories. While Mark told a harrowing tale of murder and violence, the servants gave no indication that anything like that had transpired. The servants had claimed that no one had broken in to the house. They had heard Martha scream and called the police. On the contrary, Mark stated that there was a break in, but the police were skeptical. Mark claimed that the upstairs window, that led to the second floor bedroom was left partially open at night. But how would he have known that? Another peculiar thing was that there were no signs of a struggle until the foyer. If the break in had occurred on the second floor like Mark had stated, there would’ve been signs of a struggle throughout the house. Connor looked up when he heard the clack of high heels approaching his door. Allison timidly turned the knob and knocked.
“Come in.” Allison pushed open the door and walked in. She took a seat across from Connor and reached to shake his hand.
“Hi, I’m Allison Shure, I’m pleased to meet you. I’m with WFTR News.” He was struck by her beauty, her dark hair and blue eyes made her seem radiant. She was wearing a pretty blue skirt, with a silk blouse to match. The outfit was accentuated by the silver earrings that adorned her.
“Hi, I’m Connor Cassidy. I’m delighted to meet you. Looks like we’ll be working together.” She liked him already, he was charming and seem personable.
“It sure does. What do you have on the Bernard murder? Anything new?” Connor handed the file to her and explained the current state of the investigation. It had been cold for years, there were no leads. Although Mark Renson was their prime suspect, they had no DNA evidence to link him to the murder.
As she perused the file, Allison glanced at Connor. His chiseled good looks gave him a rugged appearance, but conveyed a softness and an honesty that was rare. He had wavy blond hair and brown eyes. He was about 5 foot 10, and wore faded jeans and a short sleeved shirt. She found him very attractive and tried to focus on her work.
She was engrossed in reading all the details of the murder, even though some were gory. But she thought they may prove useful in the future, so she soaked all the information in like a sponge. Connor however, couldn’t concentrate, and kept staring at her. Allison was alluring and captivating, her smile, her eyes. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in months, not since Grace. As he watched her work, he thought of his ex-wife and what had led them to eventually go their separate ways.
Grace had long blond hair, green eyes and a pretty face. She was a little round, but not fat. Everyone said that they were an odd match, Connor was quiet, Grace was talkative, he was spontaneous, and she was predictable. But in spite of their differences they had remained together for 12 years. Until that fateful night. Connor closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair enveloped by the memory.
He had worked a late shift at the station, and didn’t get finished until 4 A.M. Connor and his partner had caught a man burglarizing his ex-girlfriend’s home and were about to arrest him, when he pulled out a gun and took his niece hostage. It took the swat team and hostage negotiator five hours to secure the little girl’s safe release and to obtain the man’s surrender. Even after that the man still had to be booked and charged. Connor got out of his car and wearily climbed the stairs that led to the small house on Oak Street. It was a small but modest home, with a manicured lawn, complimented by some oaks and pines, it was picturesque. Connor slipped inside and closed the door softly behind him. Quietly, he began to make his way down the hall that led to the bedroom he shared with Grace. Just then, he heard moaning, Connor immediately thought Grace was injured or having a nightmare and rushed into the bedroom to save her.
“Grace! Grace? What’s …” he stood there in shocked disbelief, unable to process the scene before him. A dark haired man quickly pulled on his pants and shirt and stood at the foot of the bed looking adoringly at Grace.
“Grace, I love you, I guess the jig is up!”
“I love you too, I’ll see you again real soon.”
“With a night like we just had, you bet!” he kissed her and left. The moment he was gone, tears began falling down Grace’s cheeks. She didn’t try to stop them as she looked at her husband who was deeply wounded by her betrayal.
“Connor …”
“Don’t even try that, Grace! I came in here because I thought you were hurt! And you’re making love to another man!. How long has this been going on?” he paced furiously hoping that she would answer honestly, but she made no attempt to answer his question.
“Well? I’d like an answer!”
“Uh … a few months.”
“A few months? You haven’t been faithful to me! I’m ashamed of you.”
“Connor if you would just let me explain …”
“Explain what, Grace? I gave you the best years of my life, I love you! I will always love you, and you don’t care. You just threw our marriage away!”
“I didn’t break my marriage vows!”
“What do you call that scene I just witnessed? Hot nights without love making?”
“I understand you’re upset, but we can work this out! I’m not ready to end our marriage over this!”
They had tried for months to embrace, to kiss, and even once attempted to make love. They had even tried opening up about their feelings, Grace wanted to save their marriage, but Connor didn’t trust her anymore. It was heart breaking but he knew where there was no trust, there was no marriage. That didn’t mean that he stopped trying however. Grace broke off her tryst with her dark-haired lover. Later, Connor found out that the man was Alan Parks.
The Alan Parks, of the Parks and Bernard law firm. It was all over the papers, and his life was one big joke. The worst thing was he had lost Grace. Pretty, vibrant, vivacious Grace. Her energy was infectious, and anyone who was around her became enthralled and enchanted. She had a certain sparkle, a beauty and the ability to illuminate a room with her zest for life. But she had chosen to end their marriage.
In a last ditch effort to save his marriage, Connor had sought out the advice of a marriage counselor, but nothing could save them. The divorce had been finalized a few months ago, and Connor hadn’t dated much. But now Allison was opening the door to his passion and stoking his fire. He snapped back to attention as she asked him a question.
“What?”
“I said is this all you have?”
“Yes, isn’t it frustrating?”
“yeah, but it depends on how you look at it.” She said pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asked quizzically looking at her with more then friendly affection.
“I mean if you look at the glass as half full or half empty. I’ll do a story tonight and see if we can’t breathe some new life into this Bernard case.”
“Do you think you can do that, Allison? It’s a decade old.”
“You never know who’s out there, someone may have seen something and after an entire decade, those sort of things can build up on you.”
“Okay, give it a shot.”
“I need your help.”
“Sure, anything.”
“I need to see the mansion.” Connor grabbed his coat and car keys and escorted her to his car.
Pretty soon, they were driving on the poshest of roads, it was more like a gated community. Manicured lawns, brilliant rose gardens, and the smell of spring permeated the air. As they drove with the windows open. It was a gorgeous day, the kind that made you thankful you were alive to witness such a picture perfect day.
They got out of the car, and Connor led Allison into the foyer, the Bernard’s still lived there, but they weren’t home at the moment. Amelia the maid showed them the now infamous crime scene area, Allison knew that this is where she should broadcast her story. The exact scene might trigger some memories. As she looked at the marble floor, she wondered about the struggle that had occurred there which had ultimately led to Martha’s death. Even though the blood had long since been washed away, Allison wondered if forensics could shed any light on what had occurred. She recalled reading about a chemical called luminol, and when sprayed, it glowed in the presence of blood. She pondered this before turning to Connor.
“Have you tried luminol?”
“What?”
“Have you tried luminol?”
“Yes, I was just a little surprised that you knew about it.”
“It glows in the presence of blood.”
“Yes, that’s right. The forensics team was out here years ago, but nothing turned up. We still don’t have a murder weapon. Although, the shell casing was a 22.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can fit into my report.”
“I’m normally not this bold, but would you like to go out to dinner tonight?”
“Great, we can get to know each other a little better.”
“Sounds good to me. What time should I pick you up?” Connor asked glancing at his watch.
“Hmm, let’s see, I should have the story done in an hour, how’s 7-30?”
“Fine, where do you live?”
“Do you know where The Woods are?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s 24 Fallcrest Drive Apartment 3A.”
“Okay that’s good.” They talked about what restaurant to dine at while Connor drove her back to the station for her car. As he watched her drive away, he knew he was beginning to fall in love.
Allison was busily doing her hair, she didn’t consider this a date, but she wanted to look nice. She put on a blue cotton dress with her new blue sandals. She had purchased blue trapezoid earrings a month earlier and had never warn them. Now she would get her chance, she reached into the jewelry box and put them on. Just as she was curling her hair, the doorbell rang. She shut off the curling iron and timidly opened the door.
“Hi, am I late?” Connor asked stepping into her apartment.
“No, right on time. Can I get you anything to drink? I have iced tea, lemonade, coffee, and soda.”
“My goodness, you’re quite the little homemaker aren’t you?” he asked sitting on the couch. He surmised that Allison had made the blue curtains and the gray slip covers for the couch and loveseat. She noticed him eyeing her handiwork.
“Oh, those? I made them ages ago.”
“Well, they’re beautiful.”
“Thanks. How about that drink? I have wine too.”
“No, soda’s fine with me.” She went into the kitchen and a few minutes later brought out two glasses of soda. She pulled the end table between them as they sipped their soda, they talked about their lives.
“So, how long have you been a reporter?”
“About 3 years now. I love it, it’s intriguing, and it’s certainly not the run of the mill job every day.”
“No, it sure isn’t. Neither is being a detective. Although you don’t always get to see the best side of human nature.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes the crimes I cover are horrendous. I didn’t always want to be a reporter.”
“Oh?” Connor inquired sipping his soda. He looked into her blue eyes and knew there was more.
“It all started when my mother came to visit me here. This was my first apartment, and she hated it.” She smiled remembering her mother’s soft voice, her caring eyes.
“She said this place was a dump and I shouldn’t be living here. I disagreed, I thought I knew more than she did. Boy, was I wrong, she was the best. Supportive, always there to lend a helping hand to someone in need, and she was more than just a mother. She was my best friend.” Her eyes began to fill with tears and she reached for a tissue.
“Oh I’m sorry. I had no idea.” He said, she looked into his eyes and saw genuine sympathy.
“Thank you. Mom stormed out of here, and as she was driving home, she was car jacked. She was going to give him the car, but he pulled a gun and shot her. By the time Dad and I got to the hospital she was gone.” He reached out and touched her hand. At first, his touch made her tremble, but then she relaxed. It was the most natural thing in the world, and she wondered why she was telling her life’s story to a complete stranger. She was usually a very private person, but somehow with Connor it felt right.
“I’m sorry.” He said softly.
“Thank you, Connor. That’s why I became a reporter, to help families find peace and closure. Will you listen to me? I’m rambling on here, I’m sorry I didn’t expect to go on like that.”
“It’s all right, it’s good to let your emotions out.”
“So, what about you?” he took another sip of soda.
“Well, I’m divorced. My wife Grace had an affair. So I haven’t been up to much, just getting back into the dating scene.” Allison took a sip of soda and leaned back on the couch listening to him with interest.
“That’s hard, it’s hard to find the right person.”
“Yeah especially in this day and age.” Allison smiled and once again, Connor was captivated. They decided to dine at La Luna a romantic out-of-the-way restaurant.
La Luna was one of the hottest restaurants in town, a spot for lovers and those falling in love. It boasted a spectacular view of the river, excellent food, and impeccable service. The air was a filled with the murmur of the dinner crowd and the smell of bread baking. Allison loved the ambiance of the place, and made a mental note to come here more often. She was fascinated by their extensive menu, and they finally decide on their appetizer. They ordered an appetizer of chicken wings, and mozzarella sticks, and Connor told her of his failing marriage, and how Grace’s betrayal had destroyed him.
“We had been married for 12 years, I loved her with my heart and soul. I never thought that she would cheat on me. But she did, I walked in on them, and it was pretty shocking.” Now, it was her turn to comfort him.
“I’m sorry.” She said softly.
“It’s all right, I live with it day by day.”
“That’s hard to go through. I can’t imagine how I would feel if anyone did that to me.”
“I couldn’t imagine it for a while either, and I lived it. I was in shock one moment, and wanted to put our marriage back together the next. I did everything, I ranted at her, and I brought her flowers and candy. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Grace had a certain magnetism, a charm. But I’d never lived without her in my life. We were next door neighbors and it blossomed from there. But after a while, I realized that I didn’t trust her.” He took a bite of a mozzarella stick while Allison dipped a chicken wing in sauce.
“If there’s no trust, there’s no marriage.”
“I agree, Connor. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”
“Thanks, the important thing, is that it’s over.”
They talked for a long time about the Bernard case, Allison told him of the report that she had done. He seemed impressed, taken with her every word and movement. As she lay in bed that night, Allison had a feeling that dinner was more than a friendly gesture. She had a wonderful evening, sharing and laughing with him. She could picture herself with him, but what would he think of her? Thoughts of Connor Cassidy filled her head as she drifted off to sleep.
He watched her report from his small black and white in the bedroom. He loved seeing her on the screen, he thought she was beautiful. He had followed every story she had ever covered, and thought that Allison Shure was the best reporter WFTR ever had. Mark sat in his armed chair and turned up the sound, the story was starting and he wanted to hear what she had to say.
“I’m here at the infamous Bernard mansion. You may remember that socialite Martha Bernard was brutally murdered nearly a decade earlier in this posh estate.” A picture of the mansion and its grounds was flashed across the screen.
“This is where the beautiful young woman’s life came to a tragic end, at the hands of a masked intruder. Martha Bernard was not only beautiful outside, but inside as well. It is a mystery why anyone would want to cut this promising young life short. There are many peculiar things about this case. Discrepancies that don’t make sense, for example Mark Renson, Martha Bernard’s boyfriend and Celia Clark a maid at the Bernard’s have differing accounts of the events that occurred that horrific night. Police Chief Charlie Chattum has stated that there is renewed interest in this case, and anyone with any information is asked to call the local police. You may also recall that Mark Renson was the prime suspect in the case, but since there were no usable finger prints, and DNA testing was not yet available, no charges were ever filed. Can this ten-year-old case be solved using scientific advances? Hopefully this baffling mystery will finally be solved, Allison Shure WFTR News.” Mark got up and turned off the TV. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He was going to stop Allison’s curiosity once and for all.
Connor waited for Allison to arrive. She was a few minutes late. He bought two cups of coffee and set them on his desk while he waited. The good thing about this case was that he got to see her every day. He was slowly falling in love with her, all his dreams were about her. Holding her, kissing her and making love to her. They had been working together for over a month, and their attraction couldn’t be denied. He started to get worried as he glanced at the clock. He tried her cell, but he got her voicemail.
“Allison, it’s Connor. Please call me. I’m worried about you.” He hung up exasperated, he had a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Allison drove to work at her usual pace. She thought the car wasn’t stopping correctly, but thought it was just her imagination. But suddenly, as she went to stop for a traffic light, the car kept going. The breaks had locked and the accelerator was stuck to the floor. The car careened out of control, as Allison did her best to stop it. But it was no use, the careened off the highway, sending Allison off the road into a tree. The impact was deafening, shards of glass and metal could be heard as they crunched together. The impact had also shattered the windshield and the windows. But luckily, Allison was unscathed. At first, she was so stunned, she just sat there, but then she pulled out her cell and turned it on. She saw she had messages and punched in her password. Just as she heard Connor’s anguished voice, there was a tap on her window. She shut off the phone and stared at the man.
“Need help?” Mark asked cheerfully.
“I do, actually.”
“Something wrong?” he knew the answer even before he asked, he just wanted to hear it for himself.
“My breaks just locked up! And the accelerator too!”
“Can I give you a lift anywhere?”
“Yes to the police station.”
“Why what happened? Is anything wrong?”
“Other then my car, no. I’m a reporter, I’m working on a case.”
“Oh, sure thing. I’m Mark Renson.” Fingers of fear filled her heart as she realized who this man was.
“Oh, I’m Allison Shure. Nice to meet you.” She didn’t want him to get suspicious, so she got out of the car and into the passenger seat of his.
Within minutes, they were at the police station. Mark said that he would keep an eye on her car until the tow truck got there. She thought it was a little odd, but maybe he was a nice guy. The police didn’t have any real evidence linking him to Martha Bernard’s murder. Maybe they were wrong, Allison thought as she stepped into Connor’s office.
“Allison! I’ve been worried about you!. Didn’t you get my messages?”
“I did, I’m sorry. I got stuck with my car. I had the most bizarre encounter with Mark Renson.”
“Mark Renson?” Connor repeated in shock.
“Yeah, he helped me get here. The breaks and accelerator locked up on my car and I crashed into a tree. It was strange, I had just careened off the road into the tree when Mark showed up. Maybe he tampered with my car.”
“This is too dangerous for you now! Now he’s playing games with your life!”
“Connor relax, he didn’t hurt me. Besides, I think he liked me, maybe I can charm him into talking.”
“No! you’re not doing anything of the kind!”
“What’s the matter with you? I’m a reporter! And this is a hot story!”
“I don’t want you getting hurt!”
“I’m not going to get hurt.”
“Don’t do this, Allison!. I care about you.”
“I know you do, Connor, but nothing’s going to happen to me.” He knew he wasn’t going to win so he sat down defeated in his chair. He handed her the cup of coffee that was now lukewarm.
“Thank you. That was so sweet of you.” She said smiling at him. He looked into her eyes and melted. She was captivated by his brown eyes, they held so much promise and wisdom. She pushed the thought aside and reached for the Mark Renson file on the desk.
“You’re welcome, I know how much you love coffee. Hazelnut is your favorite.” He said with a wink. She smiled at him and laughed.
“You’re right, thank you, Connor. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“That’s all right, you’re safe that’s the important thing.”
“It’s a murder case, Connor not a mob hit! You’d think what the hell I was getting into.”
“With Mark Renson you never know.”
“I’ll be careful.” He touched her hand and nodded.
“Okay, that’s all I ask.” He knew he would have to tell her one of these days, just not in a police station. He wanted to declare his love for her in a place like La Luna. Romantic, warm and full of charm.
Allison was lost in concentration as she read the file. She skimmed the last page, something jumped out at her. At the end of the document was a notation that read: Mark Renson also suspected of murdering his former girlfriend Marlena Swenson. She put down the file and looked at Connor.
“Did you see this notation here?”
“Which one?” he asked looking the file over.
“Right here,” she said pointing with her finger. “it says that Mark was the prime suspect in Marlena Swenson’s murder.”
“No, I never saw that. I’ll pull up the case.” Connor said going to the computer which sat on a dusty desk next to a multitude of books on forensics. Within minutes, he had the details of Marlena’s murder up on the screen. Allison peered over his shoulder to read the monitor.
“The crime scenes look similar don’t they?” she asked hypothesizing that Mark was also responsible for the Swenson murder.
“Yes, very. The only difference is that Marlena’s finger nails were broken in a struggle. Same story, she was attacked and shot. Mark was guess where?”
“Sleeping.” Allison said confidently staring at the file in front of her.
“That’s right, let’s give you a prize.” Connor said in an attempt to make her laugh. She gave him a tender smile.
“Do you think he did it?” she asked trying to read his thoughts.
“I do, but I don’t have any evidence to back it up.”
“Well, let’s find some and see if we can link him to both murders.” Allison said perusing the computer screen.
They worked all day looking at interviews with Mark’s parents, brother and Martha’s parents. All of them had alibis accept Mark. But just because he didn’t have an alibi didn’t mean he was guilty either. Allison kept staring at the Marlena Swenson file. The murders were definitely linked. But who killed both women? They were no closer to answering that question at the end of the day than they were at the beginning. Allison glanced at the clock, she had to report on the ongoing progress of the investigation, and had to get back to the station. Connor was scrutinizing every interview and audio tape available. He was listening to Mark’s explanation of what had transpired the night of Martha’s murder with rapt attention. Allison wrote down a few tidbits and then turned to go.
“You’re leaving already?”
“I have to get back and file this report. Can you give me a lift to the station?”
“Sure. Did the mechanic ever call about your car?”
“Yeah, it’s going to be over $600 to fix everything. He told me the car was tampered with.”
“I think our boy Mark has been up to his usual tricks.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can get out of him.” She said smiling sweetly at him.
“No! you’re going to put that idea out of your head right now. He’s a dangerous man and I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Okay, for now.” She said in defeat. She thanked him for the lift and got out of the car. Connor watched her as she disappeared into the building. He had a sinking feeling that someone was following her.
Mark sat in his usual spot to watch Allison’s report. She was a fascinating person, and his encounter had only fueled his desire to stop her from finding out the truth. She was a determined person, and he knew that nothing short of murder would stop her. He was going to make sure that she didn’t solve this case even if he had to kill her to accomplish it. Tonight, she had said that the murder of Martha Bernard and Marlena Swenson were similar. The police weren’t sure if they were linked, but Allison’s report was fuel for an ever growing firestorm of controversy. Mark’s family believed he was innocent and just in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, he had been the last person to see Martha alive and wasn’t successful in defending her against the masked intruder. While the Bernard’s and the police believed that he was guilty, they just didn’t have the scientific evidence to prove it yet. He knew that Allison was trying her hardest to find out who killed both women.
“You’ll find out! One way or another!” he said as Allison finished her report. He laughed coldly and began to hatch his diabolical plan.
Allison walked into her apartment and set her briefcase by the front door. Scarlet was squawking like a lunatic and she wondered what was wrong. In all the years she had him, he had never squawked this much. Allison threw off her sweater and ran to the cage. The moment she opened the door, Scarlet jumped on to her hand.
“What’s the matter, baby? Aren’t you feeling well?” Scarlet looked up at her and squawked again.
“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she soothed stroking his feathers lightly. He seemed to settle down and she put him back after petting him for a while. Allison was just about to go into the kitchen to get something to drink when she saw it. A yellow slip of paper lying on the floor by the front door. She picked it up and read it.
Dear Allison,
Our encounter today wasn’t just a coincidence. I planned it, as I planned your little mishap this morning with your car. We will meet again soon, there is no doubt of that. But where and when will be up to you. See you again soon.
Mark Renson
Allison shook with fear, she had no idea that Mark Renson could be this evil. Connor’s outburst had been right on target. He had begged her all through lunch not to pursue Mark. He had warned her that he was dangerous, and now she knew how right he was.
Sorry but that is the most plagerised thing i have ever read look at all those numbers and stuff thats what happenes if you try to copy someones work.
slimboyslik wrote:
> Sorry but that is the most plagerised thing i have ever read look at
> all those numbers and stuff thats what happenes if you try to copy
> someones work.
This is certainly some bug on ukchatforums.com and the whole of the SRDN network. Instead of displaying a special character, it display the HTML code for that character. I had to edit several of my posts that were typed in MS Word to get round this work (doesn't mean they too were copied. like this guy Raghav did...).
Did you report the post?
> Sorry but that is the most plagerised thing i have ever read look at
> all those numbers and stuff thats what happenes if you try to copy
> someones work.
This is certainly some bug on ukchatforums.com and the whole of the SRDN network. Instead of displaying a special character, it display the HTML code for that character. I had to edit several of my posts that were typed in MS Word to get round this work (doesn't mean they too were copied. like this guy Raghav did...).
Did you report the post?
I always write stuff in Word and post it on here. You must all just suck or something.
Rickoss wrote:
> I always write stuff in Word and post it on here. You must all just
> suck or something.
No, I mean the stuff about "smart quotes". They don't get displayed properly. Their HTML code is displayed here. You might have smart quotes disabled or something.
> I always write stuff in Word and post it on here. You must all just
> suck or something.
No, I mean the stuff about "smart quotes". They don't get displayed properly. Their HTML code is displayed here. You might have smart quotes disabled or something.
I never reported it but it just looks fake to me.
Rickoss wrote:
> I always write stuff in Word and post it on here. You must all just
> suck or something.
If I use word at work I get the same problems as this but word at home doesn't do it. I wondered at the cause of this, fleetingly, before going back to using Amipro.
> I always write stuff in Word and post it on here. You must all just
> suck or something.
If I use word at work I get the same problems as this but word at home doesn't do it. I wondered at the cause of this, fleetingly, before going back to using Amipro.
If you're not going to go back in and tidy the mess up in this story, I'm not going ot read the rest of it.
I got a third of the way through or so, but couldn't be bothered with the rest. What I gathered from the piece - Allison sure was reluctant. The dialogue finished it off for me, it was like a normal conversation - boring. WHy not use dialogue to bring out useful, important or interesting information?
I got a third of the way through or so, but couldn't be bothered with the rest. What I gathered from the piece - Allison sure was reluctant. The dialogue finished it off for me, it was like a normal conversation - boring. WHy not use dialogue to bring out useful, important or interesting information?