by Kate Young
Yikes. “Wow. Um, I haven’t received the data on Carol’s movements yet. I’m expecting them any day.” I turned away, not wanting to invade his privacy.
“I’m not too concerned about that now.”
When I heard a distinct click, I turned back around.
He held an envelope and thrust it to me. “Val said you produced evidence showing that low-life Kevin was with my Carol before she died. These will help.”
“I’m not sure it’s conclusive evidence. Lots of people have camo caps.” With steady fingers I felt proud of, I took the envelope, and he moved to the small bar in the corner of the room to refill his glass. The man really didn’t need any more alcohol. But who was I to judge the actions of a grieving man? Even one such as he.
Inside were copies of affidavits. Kevin had challenged the last will and testament of his grandfather. And after Carol’s death, he had petitioned the court for the entire sum. I felt ill. There was also a set of photographs. Carol outside of the motel off I-85 with a man. Their heads close together in one shot—the man gripping Carol by the shirt collar in another. Her face was stricken with fear—Carol in the car with what appeared to be the same man in a camo hat. Kevin.
“Sweet Jesus,” I breathed, and glanced up to meet the bloodshot gaze of Judge Timms.
“That about covers it. And by your reaction, I take it Carol hadn’t confided in you about her struggles with mental health or her stepbrother manipulating her for money.”
I shook my head.
The judge leveled his gaze, measuring me. “Not a word?”
“No sir. She did leave a note and a scarf for me.” I kept my tone even, controlled.
“So?” He sat on the leather love seat and slung one arm across the back. “She never was attached to her wardrobe. Keep it.”
Okay. Steeling myself, I moved closer and perched on the edge of a chair. “It’s regarding the Jane Doe case. Something Carol discovered terrified her.”
He made a distasteful face. “She was frightened of everything toward the end. Just ask your father. She was losing her mind.” He leaned forward, his tone dropped, and—I swear—so did the temperature in the room. “Move. On.”
My pulse raced, and my stomach did a flip-flop. “Yes, sir.” I cleared my throat. “Did you show these to the police?”
“I did.” He leaned back, and the tension in his sweaty face began to ease a little. “Those are copies. They have a set.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I thought for sure, with the evidence of Kevin’s cap, that would be enough. Idiots. Quinn said they’d keep me apprised as needed. The man owes me.”
The room spun a little. The judge must have been the one on the phone that day.
“Well, if Quinn won’t do something, I’ll take matters into my own hands. We’ll fight dirty. You used to date Kevin. It shouldn’t be any trouble for you to work your pretty little ass back into his bed and coax a confession out of him.”
My skin began to crawl, and I rose, my cheeks burning. “You’ve got me all wrong. If the police are investigating, perhaps we should sever our agreement now.”
He set his glass down and leaned forward, his manner intense. “I’m not looking to sever our agreement. I’m after justice. That man”—he pointed to the picture still clutched in my hands—“is trying to steal my money. With Carol gone, the money is rightfully mine by law.” He clamped his mouth shut in agitation. His eyes were full of fire.
The killer in the book And Then There Were None had been the judge!
Time to go. I started backing toward the door.
“You do as I tell you, and I’ll make you a rich woman, you hear?” He rose to his full height and gritted through clenched teeth, “I hate feeling a fool. I earned that money. I’m not some chump!”
“Of course not. No one would think you were a fool. I’ll speak with Quinn.” I took another step backward and ran into a small table.
He flung his arm toward me; it was a sloppy motion. “You would have thought that since you found her on your doorstep, you’d have found out more than you have. A murder buff obsessed with those damn Jane Does, like Carol, and working for a private investigator, I’d put money on it.” His words were heavily slurred now, and I wondered if he’d remember any of this in the morning.
I should’ve recorded this conversation. A stupid mistake I couldn’t afford to make!
“Are you keeping things from me, Lyla? Did she tell you about the case she believed she could solve? Some damn suitcase killer or something.”
“No, sir.” I fumbled with the doorknob behind me. The door clicked open, and cool air rushed in.
“Oh, hell.” He raked a hand over his mouth.
Relief flooded me when he made no advance forward and seemed to read the room.
He’d gone too far. “I’m sorry … I—”
“You’re grieving. I understand. I’ll do what I can. You have my word.”
His body seemed to sag on his bones with the weight of his predicament. “Fair enough.”
I backed out with a consolatory smile.
I stepped out into the coolness, hurriedly shut the door behind me, and rested my hand over my heart, thankful to be out of the lion’s den.
Talk about being a fool. I felt like the biggest one on the planet. Now that I knew for certain it’d been Kevin with Carol that day, and fairly certain it had been the judge I’d overheard Quinn speaking to, not to mention the connections the judge had with Officer Taylor, I understood now more than ever that deadly, vile secrets riddled this town. Trust at your own peril.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Melanie called after me as I ran for my car. I hadn’t even gone back into the house, running through the shrubbery, leaving dirt and wet spots on my dress.
“Lyla, what is it?” Melanie grasped my arms. She looked panicked as I attempted to catch my breath.
For a few minutes back there, I feared I might end up stuffed in a suitcase. Amid the man’s ramblings, I got the impression he’d left his wife for me to find so I’d investigate. I told Mel everything through timed gasps.
“He’s such a cretin. Anyone who treats a sweet person like Carol the way he did could be nothing less than a monster. Now he wants to pimp you out for gain. Just like the novel! It’s him! It has to be.”
We huddled together next to my car.
“You don’t think he’ll do anything nuts, do you? Like mow down everyone in the house? Or come after you in the middle of the night?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. His vendetta lies with Kevin and his attempt to fight the will over the inheritance. He might have killed her.” A tremor shook my body. “As long as he thinks I’m on his side, I should be fine. What purpose would my death serve? I keep trying to make sense of everything he told me. His words were tantamount to a confession. But if he’s behind the threats, they should stop now.”
Mel’s fingers dug into my flesh.
“That’s not all. He claimed Quinn owed him, and just a little while ago, Brad told me the scarf has gone missing from evidence at the police station.”
Her mouth fell open. “What?”
We’d been keeping our voices down, but because of the way we were clinging to each other conspicuously, we were receiving sideways glances from the new arrivals passing by, our intense colloquy attracting the wrong kind of attention.
“We need to leave.”
Mel nodded in agreement. “What about the others? Val, Patsy, and Amelia are inside. I rode over here with Amelia. I just came back out to see if I could find you.”
“Text them and let them know we’re leaving. Have you seen Kevin?”
“Yes. He and Ellen just went inside. He … he asked where you were, and Val told him you were meeting with the judge and taking over the case.”
The sky opened up, and the bottom fell out, drenching us. People scurried for cover.
Amelia pushed her way through the small crowd, waving her arms at us. “Wait up!”
I hit the key fob and unlocked the doors. The three of us piled in my car. Amelia was nearly in tears. She thrust a photo at us.
The blood in my veins nearly froze.
It was a picture of the book club. One we had taken for the library newsletter in hopes of increasing our membership. Amelia, Patsy, and Carol in the front in chairs; Melanie, Val, and I standing behind them. We all sported our Jane Doe Book Club T-shirts Carol had made up. There was an X over Carol’s face.
“What the hell?” Melanie squeaked.
“T-turn it over,” Amelia gasped.
Five little Janes won’t leave it alone; who will die next and be the new Doe?
“So much for no more threats.” Mel’s voice quivered.
“Where! Where did you get this?” I turned and stared into the back seat at Amelia.
She visibly shook. “It … it was taped to the bottom of my cake plate.”
“Who could have done this?” Mel clutched her purse to her chest.
“I thought it was Judge Timms.” I kept shaking my head. “But now, it’s looking more like Kevin.”
Amelia leaned forward, “Who else would know about our theory that Carol was using our club read? Like the note you received—this is obviously written to the rhyme like the ‘Ten Little Soldiers’ poem.”
“Well, all of us.” We all exchanged a wide-eyed glance. “Plus, Quinn—well, actually, the entire police department—Brad Jones, and I never said a word to Kevin, but—”
“It could have gotten around.” Mel hugged her purse tighter.
I nodded. “Yes. And I’m not sure Judge Timms was in any condition to do this today.”
“He could have accomplices,” Amelia added.
“Maybe. But the judge wanted me to investigate. This”—I waved the picture—“says someone else doesn’t.”
“It certainly appears that way.” Amelia leaned back against the seat.
With trembling fingers, I started the engine and turned on the heat. “Although the threats didn’t start off using the rhyme. It could be something to throw us.”
“Like Kevin!” Melanie turned in her seat. “He was there when the first text came through. And he’s here today.”
But the judge knew about the suitcase! I couldn’t share it with them.
“What should we do? If it’s Kevin, then he might hurt someone else if he thinks they suspect him. Our friends are in that house.” Amelia’s eyes couldn’t get any wider.
“Something doesn’t fit,” I said.
“Let me see the pictures,” Mel requested.
While Mel and Amelia inspected the images, commenting about Kevin’s venomous facial expressions, I tried to make sense of everything. The version of the judge I’d just witnessed could have murdered his wife. His admission, regarding his belief that I would have investigated anyway, despite not being hired, made me worry. Yet Kevin wanted the inheritance and had a temper; those pictures spoke for themselves. He’d never been abusive or physical with me. And now someone had left a threat, in the form of a picture, for Amelia. We needed to share the picture with the police, but right now I wasn’t sure I trusted them. They’d done nothing up to this point. I shoved the picture into my clutch.
I relayed all of these thoughts to my fellow club members, who had just finished staring at each and every image with great detail.
“What if this is all some freak accident after a heated argument, and Kevin tried to cover it up? He could’ve had Carol in the moving van and just rolled her right over to your place. And maybe he heard about you getting involved and decided to play games to throw the police and you off the trail,” Amelia said staring me straight in the face.
I rubbed my eyes. “It’s possible and I hate it. I’ve known Kevin most of my life. And I’m trying to see this objectively. I just can’t wrap my head around it.” The police didn’t have any intention of investigating the crime as a murder, and Quinn could be in Judge Timms’s pocket. But Uncle Calvin thought so highly of Quinn. Everyone did. My head ached.
“You should try talking to Quinn again. I really don’t believe he’s crooked. Judge Timms could be stark raving mad. We’re all caught up in this and aren’t seeing straight.”
I dropped my hands and faced my friends. “I just don’t know anymore.”
Melanie sat back against the seat and stared straight ahead. The rain pelted down, and the wipers moved squeakily across the windshield. People filed up and down the street—some were leaving, and some arriving.
I felt numb as I put the car into drive. “Text Patsy and Val, Amelia. Make sure they’re okay. To be on the safe side.”
As my friend began a group text message to the other Jane Does inside, I pulled away from the curb, coasting down the street toward the Timms’s residence. Flashing blue lights ahead caused me to slam on my brakes, sending Mel bouncing forward but missing the dash, thanks to her seat belt.
“Geez,” Mel braced her hand on the dashboard and craned to look.
“Oh my sweet Jesus,” Amelia breathed.
Flashing blue lights were also in the Timms’s driveway, and the front door was wide open. Out came Quinn, followed by Officer Taylor and another officer I couldn’t recall from this distance. Quinn had Kevin cuffed behind his back and headed toward the police car.
“Guess we have our answer.” Melanie had her fingers to her lips.
Astonished, I didn’t respond. Kevin jerked at the restraints and shouted something vile to Quinn. I thought I’d caught my name, though I couldn’t be positive. Blood thrummed in my ears. Ellen came running out the front door, screaming. I lowered my window, ignoring the rain dribbling inside.
“What the hell is going on here? Release him this instant, Quinn Daniels, or you’ll be sorry you were ever born!” Ellen screamed.
Mel leaned over to my side to get a better view out the window. The crowd around the front door of the residence grew despite the pouring rain. People stood with umbrellas, watching with great interest like they were viewing an episode of the show Cops. Ellen pitched a hissy fit, stomping her feet and shouting obscenities. Her heel caught in soft, wet ground, and she stumbled forward, plowing into Taylor’s back. He turned around and gripped her by the arms, righting her. His head bent and moved with sporadic jerks. He must be giving her a stern talking to, and I wished I could hear what he was saying.
Taylor released her, and I thought it was over. The crowd spread out into the front yard. I gazed around, searching for Judge Timms. He was nowhere to be seen, and I surmised he was sleeping it off in his room.
The next thing we knew, Ellen’s arm swung around, and she landed a slap across Taylor’s face. Even from this distance, I heard the wet clapping sound. Both Mel and I sucked in loud, sharp breaths. Grumblings were audible from the crowd, along with a few snickers. Taylor’s face reddened to an unhealthy shade of puce. For a second, I believed Ellen would join Kevin in the back seat of the police car. Quinn stomped over and said something to Taylor, then addressed Ellen with his finger pointed at her. She stormed back into the house.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Like my fellow Jane Does, I stared into my mostly full mug. I fought to still my trembling hands. I’d barely even nibbled the cake. The shock had rocked us all. The picture left for Amelia lay on the coffee table. It had been the consensus that Kevin must have been responsible since the photo had belonged to Carol. Val recalled seeing it framed on Carol’s desk. He could have easily swiped it, and when I wasn’t around, used it to threaten Amelia.
“I just can’t believe it,” Patsy said over and over again. “Lyla, was he ever violent with you? Is that why y’all broke up?”
I glanced up from where I sat on the love seat. “No.” I took a sip. “We argued, and he had a hot temper at times …” I shook my head. “But nothing like you’re referring to.”
“First the baseball cap, and now he’s been arrested,” Val reminded me. “It confirms your findings. Sometimes love is blind.” She wrapped the afghan around
her shoulders and settled into the recliner. “He killed our Carol over a few hundred thousand dollars.”
“Three hundred thousand, to be exact. The dollar amount was listed in the copy of the files Judge Timms gave me.” I took a sip of coffee. “It’s a lot of money. And money is a common motive for murder.” I still struggled to comprehend the turn of events.
“Well, I can’t believe I brought him a housewarming gift,” Val said. “I wish I’d cracked him over the head with the lamp when I had the chance.” Her eyes flamed. “If it wasn’t for him, my best friend would still be here!”
Eyes widened.
Amelia moved her head back and forth. “I can see how he could be guilty. It makes sense. But after speaking to Special Agent Jones, I’m beginning to wonder if we missed something.” Amelia was referencing the dumping grounds again. “The similarities in the cases are terrifying.”
I wondered if Brad had told Amelia about the suitcase. I couldn’t very well ask her here, in front of everyone. I’d promised to keep that to myself. “I know he looks guilty. I do. I just can’t shake the feeling I need to keep digging. What if the police are wrong? And Kevin serves time for a crime he didn’t commit? It happens all the time.”
“Please.” Val blew out a breath. “Please, just stop. It’s over. And even if we did miss something in regard to the Jane Doe, did y’all ever consider Kevin was at the alumnae bonfire? He could have snatched one of the many tossed scarves on the ground. Everyone was laughing at the stupid scarves, remember?”
“Even if that’s true, don’t we want to know who she is? The Jane Doe. Finish what Carol started? We have a GBI agent eager to solve it.” Amelia looked at each person.
“Carol would want us to.” Melanie cradled her mug between her palms.
“That’s my point exactly. What does it hurt to continue to investigate? If Kevin’s guilty, he’ll go down for another crime.” Amelia put her mug on the coaster.
“It’s crazy how we think we know someone.” Patsy wrung her hands. “Trust them, even. And then they just turn out to be the most wicked person on the planet.”