by Sam Cheever
“I know. He was just here.”
Hal nodded, grimacing. He had a pretty good goose egg on his forehead. “How about you? How are you feeling?”
“I’ve got a bit of a headache, but that’s all. I’ll be fine.” He glanced toward the door, which the nurse had helpfully closed behind her when she left. “I just went over to see Junior.”
I widened my eyes in surprise. “He’s awake?”
“Barely. And he doesn’t remember anything except being totally despondent about losing the store.”
“So, he did try to kill himself?”
Hal shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. He didn’t leave a note, and he can’t tell me for sure.”
“Does he remember Madge showing up?”
“No. He was already unconscious when she got there.”
I thought about that for a minute, the effort making my head hurt. I rubbed my temple, frowning. “Arno told me about Madge.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “This is just too many accidents for my taste. Somebody’s clearly covering his tracks.”
I plucked at a string on the thin blanket covering me. “He thinks it’s tied to my mother.”
Hal didn’t look surprised.
“But you’d already figured that out, hadn’t you?”
He sipped his coffee before answering. “I’d considered it, yes. These hits aren’t being done by an amateur. Somebody’s taking precautions to make them look accidental. This is a professional. I’ve got Pru looking at Medford’s organization. If there’s any link at all to what’s going on here, she’ll find it.”
I thought about that for a moment. I glanced up, catching his concerned green gaze. “My mom believes Medford has someone here in Deer Hollow.”
He nodded.
“If that’s true…”
“It’s someone who’s lived here for a while. If it were someone new, your parents would have suspected him right away.”
I nodded. “I hate the thought, but I keep coming back to it.”
Hal finished his coffee and stood. “If you’re okay, I’d like to go do some legwork.”
“Sure.”
He reached out and grasped my hand, then leaned over and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. The sweet touch was like anesthetic, wiping away all sensation of pain as my brain focused on the pleasure. As he straightened I grabbed his hand. “Will you check on Caphy and LaLee?”
“Of course. That was actually at the top of my list.”
Relief flashed through me, softening some of the tension from my muscles. I hadn’t realized I’d been worried about them until that moment. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure. I’m going to keep Caphy with me. I figure the cat is good at getting out of sight if it becomes necessary.”
“I agree. And nobody would want to tangle with her anyway.” We shared a smile, remembering how painful our mutual introduction to the Siamese cat had been. In that moment, I realized how attached I’d gotten to the crotchety feline in the short time I’d had her. The idea of rehoming her no longer gave me any pleasure.
“I thought I’d stop by the barn too.”
He spoke softly, his statement tentative, like a request. With my mind caught up in thoughts of LaLee, his words didn’t click at first. Then I realized what he was telling me. I was torn. I didn’t want my mom to hear about the crash—and me being in the hospital—and assume the worst. But every visit to her hidey-hole had the potential to lead danger to her doorstep. I’d asked Arno not to go. How could I agree to have Hal visit her?
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I have a way that will be perfectly safe.”
“Oh. How?”
“Trust me?”
Of course I did. “Completely.”
He squeezed my hand. “Get some rest. You’ll be dealing with a manically concerned pibl later today.”
I started to laugh, until agony stabbed into my ribs like a blade. Then I lay back and prayed that nurse would return soon with my pain meds.
I tried to rest as I’d been instructed. I really did. But, apparently, my room was a big draw in the small hospital. It was probably only thirty minutes later when there was another knock on my door. I forced my eyelids open, wishing everyone would just leave me be.
An attractive woman in a lab coat stood in my doorway, smiling brightly at me. She wore her chin-length, dark brown hair in a pageboy, the bangs forming a straight line above her golden-brown gaze. The woman stepped into the room as soon as she caught my gaze.
“Hi, Joey. I heard about your accident and just wanted to stop in and see how you were.”
I struggled to put a name to the face, unsure how to respond since the woman seemed to know me, but I didn’t recognize her.
She lowered herself into the chair beside my bed and tucked a lock of shiny brown hair behind one ear. “Sally told me she ran into you and that it was your property where that poor woman was found.”
The fog cleared and the woman’s features snapped into place in my memory banks. She was ten years older than the last time I’d seen her, and she used to bleach her hair blonde in high school, but I finally recognized her. It was Sally’s cousin, Pam. “The real estate agent,” I said. “She came to my place trying to buy it out from under me and I sent her away. She turned up dead a few hours later.”
Pam wrinkled a pert nose. “That’s really weird.”
“Welcome to my life,” I groused. I immediately regretted my grumpiness and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. My head’s killing me. I’m afraid I’m not very good company.”
She lifted a hand. “No worries. I don’t blame you. I get downright nasty when my head hurts.” She looked around the room. “I spoke to Doctor Lee on my way in. He said you’d be going home today. That’s something, right?”
I started to nod and stopped when my brain seemed to slam around in my head. Where the heck was that nurse with my pain meds? “I can’t wait. I’m going to take about six Ibuprofen when I get home.” I rubbed my temples, wincing.
Pam looked alarmed. “You’ll talk to Doc Lee about that first, right?”
“Of course. I was just being melodramatic.”
The tension went out of her slim shoulders. “Good. I can stop by the nurse’s station on my way out if you’d like. Sometimes they get busy and schedules suffer.”
“That would be great. Thanks, Pam.”
She nodded and stood. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair…”
“Before you go…”
She cocked her head, waiting.
“I was wondering what you found on that leash you tested. Any recognizable DNA?”
She sighed. “Other than yours?”
When I cringed she shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure Arno doesn’t suspect you. I did find a sample with a familial match.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone you’re related to used the leash at some point. A parent or a sibling.” Then she narrowed her gaze at me. “But you don’t have any siblings, do you?”
“Nope. Just me.”
“Yeah, so I’m guessing your mom or dad used the leash in the past?”
I nodded. “It would have been a couple of years ago though. Would the DNA still be there?”
“If the leash was kept in a fairly protected spot, it sure could be.”
“I kept it inside, hanging on a hook. It’s actually been so long since I used it, I’d forgotten I had it.”
“There ya go. So, other than your family’s DNA, there was nothing I can match. But I did find a tiny sample that we can use to prove the killer gripped it once we know who that is.”
I really wished real life was more like TV, where they always knew exactly who the killer was from the DNA. Unfortunately, even I knew that wasn’t real life. “Whoever it is doesn’t have DNA on file?”
She seemed to be considering whether to answer my question, which told me she’d found a match. “It’s okay. Hal and I have been he
lping Arno with the case.”
She bit her lip and then nodded. “Actually, the DNA was in the database. But it was from a cold case in Indianapolis. The police haven’t found the killer yet.”
Ice crawled up my spine. We had a known killer in Deer Hollow. That put a whole new spin on things. Hal and Arno had been right to speculate that the killings were professional.
Then my mind skimmed to Devon. I wondered if they had any DNA on file for him. I couldn’t bring myself to ask, not wanting to be the one to point a finger in his direction. I thought about the people we’d spoken to over the last couple of days and another name popped into my mind. An admitted sociopath. “Do you do psychological evaluations in your job, Pam?”
“Occasionally. I don’t have a lot of training in that area, but I did minor in Psych in college and have taken some behavioral psych training. Why do you ask?”
“Do you know George Shulz?”
She gave the usual grimace when his name was mentioned. “Unfortunately. I needed a lawyer to help me with some private legal stuff a while back.”
“Do you think he’s a sociopath?”
She barked out a laugh. “He’s definitely a horse’s behind. And he certainly has some of the markers of a sociopath. But he seems to really like those cats.” She wrinkled her nose again.
“Not a fan of cats?”
“No, I am. I love cats. In fact, I’ve been considering getting another one since my old tabby died last spring. But he doesn’t clean up after them, and that office is disgusting.”
“I can’t disagree with that.” It occurred to me that Pam would be the perfect person to take LaLee. But I was reluctant to bring it up.
“Why do you ask?”
Something in her tone of voice told me she was more than curious about my answer. She seemed surprised, almost suspicious that I’d singled him out. I shrugged. “He helped my friend Hal buy Devon Little’s cabin. We went to speak to him about Devon, and he acted very strangely. I just wondered if he might know something.”
I knew it was weak. I couldn’t clue her in on the connection between Devon and my mother or the possible connection between my mother and the killer. So, I gave her the only thing I had. “He told us he was a sociopath. I found that strange.”
“Yep. That is strange. I agree. But I have to say, Shulz takes great pride in being a cold-hearted jerk. I think he throws the sociopath label around to excuse his behavior. I wouldn’t put too much stock in it.”
“That’s pretty much what Hal said too.”
She nodded. “You’re related to Devon Little, right? He’s your uncle or something?”
I could see her scientific mind spinning with possibilities and was pretty sure she was wondering if he could have provided the second sample of DNA on the leash. “Not by blood, no. He was my dad’s best friend, as well as my godfather.”
“Ah.” She still seemed more interested in Devon than she should have. “He was a suspect in another murder, wasn’t he? Something about a painting?”
I sighed inwardly. I’d put her on Devon’s track without meaning to. “The police believed he might be. He was eventually cleared.” Sort of.
“Oh. Okay. Well…” She started for the door. “Take care of yourself. I’ll see if I can get someone in here with meds for you.”
“That would be greatly appreciated. Thanks, Pam.”
“My pleasure.”
I lay back and closed my eyes, willing my mind to rest. But Pam’s information, along with my own speculation about George Shulz, had my thoughts spinning. Could Shulz really have killed Penney and attacked Madge and Junior? And if so, then why? What was the connection between them all?
Then it hit me. There was only one connection that I knew of, and it was a strong one. Schulz was a lawyer. The only lawyer in Deer Hollow. Which all but ensured that everyone in town would bump up against him professionally at some point.
As I realized that, I also realized Shulz would be a perfect plant for Garland Medford. He was well known and in a position to interact with almost everyone. Also, there was no danger he’d form attachments that would interfere with his spying. By his own admission, he was a cold, unfeeling man. He’d be the perfect spy for someone who wanted to find a woman with too many connections in the area to leave it behind.
And Uncle Dev had used his services to sell his cabin.
My eyes popped open. Of course! I was an idiot. There was the second connection between Shulz and the realtors. Hal admitted dealing with Penney Sellers over the cabin. Deer Hollow Realtors had listed it!
I opened my eyes just as the door swung open and a nurse I’d never seen before came inside. She said hello, her voice husky and muffled behind the mask I was no longer surprised to see.
I glanced around and tried to sit up. “Do you know what they did with my personal stuff?” I asked her. “I need my cell phone.”
She shook her head, pulling a syringe out of her pocket. “Your stuff’s in the closet. But you can’t use your cell in here. It interferes with the equipment.”
“I bit back a frustrated response. “Okay. Any word when I’ll be going home?”
She shook her head. “I was told you need some pain meds?”
“Yes, please! Everything hurts.”
“I’ll be glad to help fix that.” She moved closer and injected the contents of the syringe into my IV. Then she smiled, her eyes glittering hard and cold over the mask. “There ya go. In just a few minutes, you won’t feel anything at all.”
Chapter Twenty-One
In a horrified flash, I recognized the voice. For a moment I was confused. Her presence there, and the coldness of her behavior, didn’t match up to my expectations. Then, like a movie on fast forward, all the pieces clambered through my brain, falling over one another to shove themselves into a single, coherent picture. I knew suddenly who the killer was. Just as I knew I was about to die.
I cringed back, bumping up against the side rail on the other side of the bed. “I can’t believe it…” I murmured, my hands fisting in the sheet as I tried to come up with a way out of my current predicament.
I had no Caphy to save me.
No Hal…
The “nurse” moved quietly to the door, turning the lock. “This won’t hold for long if somebody gets pushy. But I’m pretty sure nobody’s going to come, and you’re much too weak to make much of a ruckus.”
She was right. My limbs were getting heavier by the second.
“Your very cute private investigator isn’t coming to your rescue. By the time he returns you’ll be long gone.”
No! I tried to move, but my legs were like lead.
She tugged the pillow from under my head. Horror razored through me as I realized what she was going to do. “He won’t believe this was natural causes. Hal will find you. And you’ll spend a really long time in prison.”
She shrugged. “I’d do that anyway, wouldn’t I? After killing your father and that meddlesome agent.” The cold gaze glittered with malice or humor, I wasn’t sure which. Maybe both. She didn’t seem in the least bothered by what she was about to do.
“Pity you didn’t die in the crash. You’ve been so difficult. Just like your parents.” She sighed. “I should have known your mother would survive. She’s like a cockroach, that one. A very lovely cockroach.” Something wistful slid through the icy gaze above the mask.
Desperation filled me with frost. She fully intended to kill me, and I was helpless. I couldn’t move so much as a finger to stop her. I had to keep her talking and pray someone came to help. “You don’t want to do this. There’s no evidence to prove what you’ve done. It’s unlikely the police suspect you right now. I certainly didn’t. But if you kill me you’ll bring more heat down on your head.” As I said the words I knew they were true. I’d considered just about everybody else. But not her. “If there was any evidence against you, Arno would have already made the arrest.”
She laughed and the sound was bitter. “It’s only a matter of t
ime though, isn’t it? You and that PI just dig and dig and stick your noses in where they don’t belong. You were going to find me out. Best I clean up before that happens.”
She moved closer, lifting the pillow over my head.
My mind screamed to strike out, get away. But my body wasn’t cooperating. “Why?” I was shocked by the screeching tenor of my voice and regretted it when her gaze turned to ice. “Why are you killing all these people? I deserve to know that, at least.”
“No. You deserve nothing. But I’m a fair person, so I’ll tell you. Your parents crossed the wrong man. They never should have helped that scheming witch escape with his money. She left a trail of devastation behind. The rest of us have been paying the price for it ever since.”
“Money? I’m sure my parents didn’t know she was carrying around stolen money. They never would have helped her if they had.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “So naïve. Your parents would steal a homeless man’s last moldy bagel if they thought it would benefit them. I think you’re old enough to stop believing in fairy tales, Joey.”
I would have shaken my head in denial, but the drug she’d given me was disorienting me, and sapping energy from my body. I was so tired. So weak. I couldn’t put up much of a struggle as she lowered the pillow over my face and pressed down hard.
Panic, rage, and fear warred for predominance as I strained against the immobilizing drug, unable to move or fight my fate. I struggled to breathe against the smothering softness of the pillow. And when I finally accepted that I would die, I prayed it would happen fast. That I’d pass out soon so the terror could end.
But, even as my lungs screamed for air, my mind gave me blurry, slow-motion reproductions of my favorite memories.
Playing hide and seek in the woods behind our house with my parents when I was five.
Dev and I creating a stage by hanging sheets from a tree and acting out a very bad Macbeth together for my parents when I was eleven.
Holding a tiny, quivering Caphy in my arms, and laughing with joy because my mother was going to let me keep her.
My tears soaked the cotton pillowcase as I thought of Caphy. I’d miss my sweet girl.