Secrets of the Cedar Walls

Chapter One

Karen Cappelletti’s SUV turned onto the darkened street lit only by the meek glow of her headlights. At eleven p.m. on a Sunday, most porch lights had been extinguished for the night. She pulled into the driveway of her deserted home, feeling a heightened sense of alert as the surrounding stillness evaporated. A rhythmic swooshing sound in the distance shattered the silence. Apprehension flooded her chest as the sound neared.

“Are we home?” Ali’s groggy voice purred from the passenger seat.

Karen rolled her head on the headrest, peering at Ali. An entire week away. No work. No pressing issues. A smile formed as she slid her hand through Ali’s tousled, dirty-blond hair and gazed into her half-opened blue eyes. Diverting her attention, a single high-beam searchlight dipped down from the indigo sky and through billowing foliage. The blazing glow swept along the neighborhood streets. Blades of a lone police helicopter rhythmically whipped above them.

Having lived her entire forty-five years in Parks Ford and serving as the town’s detective for over a third of that time, Karen knew police search helicopters—or “Night Suns,” as they were known—were an anomaly. Commonplace in Philadelphia, possibly. But Parks Ford’s minuscule department, all of twenty minutes south of Philly, employed only twelve officers and certainly was not furnished with search helicopters. Even search dogs and drones were provided by the county.

Her thoughts raced, keenly aware that the county sheriff’s office must have put out the call for the helicopter combing the streets, and Philadelphia Search and Rescue likely piloted it. For this to happen, it had to be an extraordinary circumstance. Extraordinary and life-threatening.

Maybe a kid ran away. Implausible, she knew. A teen runaway wouldn’t warrant the search helicopter—not unless the situation were grave. Her thoughts bolted to a more probable concern: a local burglary. An armed thief. Maybe they’re tracking a fleeing subject. Even that scenario didn’t match up to the sleepy town of Parks Ford.

Ali’s warm fingers tiptoed across Karen’s thigh, pulling her back from a deepening concern. She gazed into Ali’s sleepy eyes—eyes that still had the power to cause her stomach to perform acrobatics. Ali’s fair complexion allowed the brown-sugar freckles sprinkled over her nose and upper cheeks to pop.

“I didn’t know you guys had copper choppers,” Ali said with a dreary smile. “Is there, like, a curfew in Parks Ford that I didn’t know about?”

Karen felt the corner of her lips curve upward. “We don’t.” The smile faded. “Something’s going on.”

Escaping her town for a glorious week of vacation, she had managed to keep professional business tucked away. Probably for the first time in her life, she remained focused on the present. Karen held her gaze on Ali, whose eyes were barely open after their eight-hour drive from Provincetown.

“Think I should call in?” Karen winced as the words slipped from her lips.

Predictably, Ali shot a hard glare. An intimate couple for just shy of a year, Karen knew Ali—a local artist—didn’t understand her need to identify the issue prompting the helicopter. As much as she adored Ali, her passion to protect her beloved town always seemed to take precedence.

Karen sat, the engine still. She reached over and brushed back strands of Ali’s hair from her forehead. Even in the dim light, Ali’s sapphire eyes peeked out from behind weighted eyelids. How easy it was to get lost in those eyes. Karen’s mesmerized mood was startled as a powerful stream of light swept over the front yard, then the roof of her three-bedroom home.

“I’ll just call in. Find out what’s going on?”

“Why don’t you call Judy?” Ali grumbled, referring to Karen’s best friend who conveniently lived just down the street. “Judy always knows what’s going on.”

Karen chuckled as she jiggled her body from the grasp of her seat belt and reached over to offer Ali a comforting hug. “She does, but this is police business.”

Karen forced an upbeat tone, but deep down, she sensed something unspeakable had happened in a town of barely 11,000 residents. A palpable silence settled between them.

“Why don’t you want me to call in?” Karen forced a comforting smile. “Then we can both rest easy.”

“Why do you have to get involved? We’re still on vacation,” Ali pleaded. “Technically, you’re still on vacation for another thirty-six hours.”

Karen cringed at the thought of something major happening and her colleague Officer Dan Brennan heading up the investigation in her absence. Years of tension and turmoil between the two of them had created a long-standing discomfort. To say she didn’t care for him was putting it mildly. She also didn’t trust him.

“Don’t you want to know if our lives are in jeopardy before going into the house?” Karen’s words dripped with sarcasm. “They could be looking for an ax murderer, and the guy is hiding…in the kitchen…just waiting for us.”

Ali rolled her eyes, her trademark giggle absent. “We don’t have crime here…well, hardly ever.”

Karen couldn’t help but smile. Almost a year and a half ago, during her investigation of an out of the ordinary, gruesome stabbing, she met Ali. Her thoughts zipped back to that time. A rush of warmth filled her chest. She recalled struggling to remain focused on the case as her feelings for Ali developed, then deepened.

“You don’t even want me to find out what’s going on?” Karen asked.

“I don’t want to come home from an amazing Women’s Week in P-town and lose you for the next seventy-two hours.”

“I’m still on vacation. They’re not gonna call me in.”

Ali looked skeptical.

“I guarantee. Besides, there’s no way Brennan’ll yield to me until I’m officially back.” Acid plunged into her stomach at the thought.

Ali appeared to force an exaggerated sigh.

“C’mon. Let’s grab our bags and go inside.”

The helicopter swooped overhead a second time. As much as Karen pushed herself to present a casual, dispassionate demeanor, deep down, she feared a vastly different reality was unfolding.

Bags in hand, they trudged up the brick walkway of Karen’s split-level home. The early-spring foliage had begun to reappear after the frozen winter months. Still chilly, with the summer heat and humidity a good two months away, an earthy scent hung in the air. Karen playfully grabbed a handful of Ali’s butt before planting a kiss on her cheek.

“I got your number.” Ali giggled. “You’re just trying to distract me.”

“Damn it. You know me so well.” Karen grinned. How is it my heart catches after all this time?

“Look. I know you won’t relax until you find out what’s going on.” Ali exhibited a matter-of-fact look as they stood at the front door. “I want your undivided attention tonight. So do what ya gotta do so I get the rest of the night with you. All of you.”

Karen unlocked the front door and popped on the living room lights. She tossed her duffel bag onto the floor just as a flash of light swept across her backyard outside the kitchen window. The helicopter was directly overhead.

“I’ll go check the kitchen to make sure the ax murderer isn’t hiding in there.” She winked at Ali.

Ali rolled her eyes. “Just call the station already. I know it’ll put your mind at ease.”

“I’ll call Riley,” Karen said. “The helicopters…they’re not ours. Probably requested by the sheriff.”

Karen sauntered up the half flight of stairs to the bedroom, feigning nonchalance. Tossing her bag onto the bed, she reached for her laptop. She knew her town—small, close-knit, and neighborly…but also simple people looking for something to gawk at or gossip about. The town’s Facebook page would be packed with all sorts of speculation and maybe even a handful of facts. And if there was cause to alert neighbors, or if someone was missing or in danger, it would likely be posted on her department’s own social media page, requesting the public’s assistance.

At best, the town’s residents looked out for one another. At worst, they were busybodies. Which is why Karen knew if anything happened requiring a heavy police presence, it would be plastered all over social media. Long gone were the days when the police operated with scant notice, and it was only after the morning paper came out—the actual paper version—that residents learned about what had happened.

Her stomach knotted as she perused posted pictures from the night before. The parking lot of the Stewart James Saloon, a local pub she frequented in her younger years, was packed with her town’s squad cars. Yellow police tape zigzagged across the lot. And even though the time stamp read Sunday 2:37 a.m.—a time when most bar-goers were long gone—a hefty, curious crowd was gathered along the perimeter.

But that was over twenty hours ago. Karen’s brow furrowed. She knew if a small child, a person with autism, or an elderly individual was missing, a request for the public’s help would have gone out within the first half hour. Why the helicopter tonight? What happened at the bar on Saturday? The website offered no answers.

She tugged her cell phone from her back pocket.

“Hey, girlfriend. Figured I’d hear from you at some point.” Detective Camille Riley’s voice sounded upbeat and chipper. “I take it you’ve heard.”

“Haven’t heard a thing. Just got home from a week out of town.”

“Good for you. Where’d ya go?”

Karen felt her chest tighten. A resort town in Cape Cod, Provincetown was also known for having a vibrant gay and lesbian community. Not to mention, the week they arrived was the celebration of Women’s Week—a week filled with throngs of lesbians and lesbian activities.

“Spent a week up at…the Cape.” Karen allowed the trapped air in her lungs to escape.

Even though she was relatively certain most people in town had gotten wind of her sexuality and relationship with Ali, she still couldn’t bring herself to openly discuss it with work colleagues.

“The Cape? It’s April, Capp. Too damn cold up there.”

Karen could almost see Riley’s bright smile pop, framed by her onyx complexion. Her mind drifted…drifted to the chilly nights, snuggling with Ali in front of a fire in the bungalow they rented.

“I found a way to stay warm.” Karen smirked.

“Why the Cape? Trying to avoid the summer crowds?”

“Uh, yeah.” Sure. That works.

Karen felt her face flush. She and Riley, her detective liaison at the county sheriff’s office, had worked several cases together and established a superb working relationship. When a case was too big for the minute resources of Parks Ford police, Karen could enlist Riley for assistance and county resources.

They were close…open and honest with one another. Riley had shared her challenges of moving from town to town and department to department, working to climb the law enforcement ladder as a woman and a woman of color. But Riley was tight-lipped about her personal life. Karen had no idea whether Riley was married or had a partner…and she never asked.

Karen cleared her throat. “Great time to be up there. Not too busy.” A blatant lie. Commercial Street had been packed from morning to night, day after glorious day. Hundreds of women. Crowded restaurants, bustling streets, busy bar scenes—it was all new to Karen, and Ali was all too thrilled to share the special ambiance with her.

“Just got home,” Karen continued. “What’s going on?”

Riley shared scant details of the ongoing search. A missing persons report had come into Parks Ford police about twenty-four hours prior. Ten p.m. on Saturday, to be exact. Local police activity had now expanded to a countywide search.

“I’ll be right in.”

Karen changed out of her P-town souvenir T-shirt—the one with two black Labrador retrievers sitting together, each with a rainbow bandana around their necks—and into a simple Parks Ford Police long-sleeved T-shirt. She glanced into her bedroom mirror, realizing how ragged her mahogany hair looked after an eight-hour drive and a week of vacation. In the past, she would have simply pulled it back into a ponytail. But now, her hair barely reached her shoulders.

Karen trekked downstairs to where Ali was hauling in the last of their bags from the car. She felt her stomach turn and avoided Ali’s eyes. Finally, with the trepidation of jumping headfirst into an ice-cold pool, she worked her gaze from the kitchen tiles to Ali’s face—to the enchanting blue eyes staring back at her, eyes that sagged with a discouraged, resolved sadness.

Karen’s fingers ran along the soft line of Ali’s cheek, proceeding to the back of her neck and drawing her near. She sweetly kissed away the dejection forming in Ali’s darkening eyes and wrapped her in her arms, holding her tight. Nothing was said. It was as if Ali already knew—knew the inevitable.

Karen drifted back, still close enough to where Ali’s breath tickled her cheeks. Their eyes met.

“Look at those deep browns,” Ali said. “You look exhausted. Just check on things tomorrow.”

“Just gonna touch base with Riley…figure out what’s going on.”

Ali let out an annoyed sigh, mustering a hint of a smile as if trying to be understanding.

“Don’t wait up.” Karen grabbed her wad of keys from the kitchen counter.

“Should I just head home?” Ali asked, referring to her teeny bungalow in the town’s business district.

“No. Please.” Karen abruptly stopped and turned. Her gaze bore into Ali. “I’ll be home. It might be late. But I promise, I’ll be home.”

Ali shook her head and turned away.

“Please…stay.” Karen heard the desperation in her own voice, though she knew the pull of an impending threat to her town was too strong to ignore.

Ali grabbed her bag and slogged up the stairs to Karen’s bedroom.

Outside on the front porch, Karen paused. You gotta stop this shit. She deserves better. Still, her rules-driven, analytical nature created an inability to shake the pressing need to grasp the details of the situation. Continuing down her walkway, she fought the contradictions her mind battled over. What was it going to take for her to put Ali first and her job second?

Henriette M.
Detective Karen Cappelletti is back and this book is as good as the first one, Tangled Webs.

Fiona S.
Secrets of the Cedar Walls is not an easy read but it is well worth the effort. I was hooked from the start and found myself rapidly sucked into the multi-layered mystery.