An Act of Deceit: Book 2 of the Sarah Woods Mysteries

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  Ruth held a napkin to her eyes, dabbed at the tears, and cleared her throat.

  I took her hand. “You’re right. This is a sad story.”

  “Teddy made a profound mistake, but you need to understand that he’s a good man who made a bad decision. And he has paid dearly for it. He realized long ago that he shouldn’t have abandoned his daughter when she needed him most.”

  “Did he tell you about the gifts he’s been sending her?”

  She nodded, still wiping her bloodshot eyes.

  “Why didn’t he send cards so she’d know they were from him?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he thought she wouldn’t accept them.”

  “Well, she thinks a stalker has been sending her flowers. She even has a bodyguard looking after her.”

  Ruth’s eyes widened and she put her hand to her mouth. “Oh dear, that’s terrible. Teddy had no idea. I guess he just assumed she’d figure it out.”

  “Does Ted know she’s an exotic dancer?”

  She nodded and wiped her tears again. “Yes, he does.”

  “How does he feel about it?”

  “How would you feel?” she said sharply. “He’s just sick over it, and blames himself.”

  I nodded, a little taken aback by her tone. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no.” She put up a hand to stop me. “I’m the one who should apologize. It’s just a very sensitive subject for me.”

  I nodded and sipped my coffee then decided to ask the big question.

  “Did Ted ever mention his friend, Marty Quinn?”

  Ruth’s lip quivered. She tried to smile. “How do you know about him?”

  “Does Ted know Stephanie had a relationship with Marty?”

  Ruth looked down at her mug and she began to shake.

  “Ruth, Marty was killed five days ago.” I paused then added, “I’m afraid Ted may have made another huge mistake. Would you know anything about that?”

  The sound of a doorbell startled the hell out of both of us. “That must be the cable man,” she said, regaining her composure. “Excuse me.”

  I watched her disappear through a narrow doorway into what I assumed was her living room. I heard the front door open. A loud voice informed Ruth that the work should only take ten minutes. The guy spoke with a pronounced Boston accent.

  “Sorry for the interruption, dear,” Ruth said, as she came back into the kitchen. She looked down at my empty mug. “Here, let me get you some more coffee.”

  “Ruth, do you mind if I use your bathroom?” I asked as she took my empty mug. “I spilled a cappuccino all over me earlier. It’s starting to smell like sour milk.”

  “Yes, of course.” She half turned towards me and pointed to a door on the other side of the room.

  I closed the bathroom door behind me and caught my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale, my hair flat, and my lips chapped. After doing my best to blot off my spill, I carefully opened the medicine cabinet to look for some petroleum jelly. I found myself overwhelmed by a massive variety of prescription medications. There was Zyprexa, Celexa, and Zoloft, among others I couldn’t pronounce. Also present was a man’s shaving kit and several bottles of cologne. This puzzled me, Ruth having failed to mention being married or having a sugar daddy.

  Before I could investigate further, she called out, “Everything okay in there, dear?”

  I replied in the affirmative, closed the medicine cabinet, and returned to the kitchen, surprised to find Ruth still at the counter with our mugs.

  I settled back into my chair and waited. It seemed as though Ruth was stalling, perhaps in order to avoid my prior line of questioning. It now occurred to me that if Ted had somehow been involved in Marty’s death and Ruth knew about it, she risked being prosecuted for withholding information. I regretted putting her in this situation. She was nothing more than a sweet old woman trying to help a friend; who was I to betray that trust?

  I looked over and saw her head tilted back, a bottle of eye drops in hand. “Can I help with the coffee?” I asked as she squeezed the drops into each of her eyes.

  “No, no. Sorry dear,” she said while wiping the excess fluid from her nose with a napkin. “My eyes get so dry during the winter months.” She finally returned with the coffee and set our mugs on the table.

  Once settled, I leaned in towards her. “Look, Ruth, I know you want to protect Ted, and I realize he means a great deal to you. I respect that, but you must understand the truth will come out, eventually.”

  “The truth?” Ruth shot back, eyes narrowed. “Do you have a daughter, Sarah?”

  “No, but I do have a son.”

  “Well I’m sorry, but you couldn’t possibly understand. When you have a daughter, you must always be there to protect her. And if someone intends to hurt her, you do whatever’s necessary. You must do whatever you need to in order to protect your little girl.”

  I sensed something deeper than a friend’s concern upon hearing her rant.

  “Marty was a bad person,” Ruth continued. “He was using Stephanie for his own twisted, perverse enjoyment. He would have hurt her eventually and needed to be stopped.” Ruth’s eyes were blazing fire at me; her sweet old lady expression had transformed into one of pure loathing. I caught my breath as I looked into her eyes.

  And then it hit me.

  Ruth was not just talking about Ted’s daughter; this was personal. I needed to calm her and regain her trust. “Okay, Ruth, I understand why you’re trying to protect Ted. I don’t blame you. Actually, I admire you.”

  Ruth’s demeanor changed once again. She stood up, approached me, and cradled my face in her hands. “Dear, dear girl”—her voice had become a whisper—“please forgive me. Please, you must forgive me.”

  I had no idea why she was asking forgiveness. I should be the one apologizing. I reached out and held her shaking hands in my own. “Ruth, you’ve done nothing wrong, but you can help Ted by telling me the truth. You don’t need to carry that burden for him, do you understand? You don’t need to protect him any longer. Just tell me, please, what was Ted’s involvement in Marty’s death?”

  Ruth pulled away from me, a blank look on her face. “I never said Teddy was involved. Teddy would never do that … ever!”

  “Look,” I said, taking the photo of Lance Harding from my purse. “How does Ted know this man? Have you seen him before?”

  Upon catching a glimpse of Harding’s face, Ruth shut her eyes and shook her head.

  I squeezed her hand gently. “Take your time. I’m sure this is all a bit overwhelming.”

  Ruth pulled away and returned to her chair. She immediately began rocking back and forth while shaking her head, almost as if in a trance. I began to worry that I’d gone too far, pushed her into a deep, depressive state. “Ruth,” I said softly. “Are … are you all right?”

  No response.

  At a loss, I slid my chair out to stand when my head began to spin. A wave of dizziness and nausea washed over me. I rubbed my temples, my vision blurry. I blinked repeatedly, trying to focus. I put my hand on the table and tried once again to stand. There was a tingling sensation in my legs as I dropped back down. Soon after, I couldn’t feel my legs at all.

  Panic set in. I grasped the edge of the table with both hands to keep from collapsing as low, pitiful moan involuntarily escaped me. Through my double vision, Ruth appeared oblivious, still rocking and shaking her head like a woman possessed. I tried again and again to speak, but my lips and tongue were numb. My head sank toward the mug sitting on the table in front of me.

  I then understood.

  I gasped for air, clutched my stomach, and collapsed onto the floor.

  In that moment I considered the fact that there were worse ways to die: being burned alive or stabbed to death. I should have been thankful for small favors, but I wasn’t. Not even close. The thought of never seeing my son again made me angry, not some peaceful letting-go others claim to experience in near-death situations.

 
I was furious.

  Maybe that’s what saved my life.

  * * *

  I had no way of knowing how much time had passed when I finally opened my eyes again. My white tunnel of light turned out to be a fluorescent fixture inside of a hospital room. I blinked several times until my vision adjusted. The first object I discovered was a tube connecting my arm to an IV. I opened my mouth, my tongue so dry I could barely swallow.

  “Mom, you’re awake!” The angelic voice came out of nowhere. I tried lifting my head, to no avail.

  Brian’s face came into view as he leaned over and placed his hand on my cheek.

  “Hi.” My throat burned and I started to cough. Brian reached over to a swivel table and filled a plastic cup with water. He cradled my head with his free hand and held the cup tenderly against my lips. After a few sips I struggled to push myself up into a sitting position.

  “Dad!” Brian yelled out into the hall. “Dad, she’s awake!” Daniel hurried into the room, holding his cell phone against his ear. The look of relief on his face was encouraging.

  Maybe it wasn’t my time after all. Perhaps I’d been spared.

  “Thank goodness,” Daniel said. “I was just on the phone with Sammy.”

  “What happened?” I asked. “How long have I been out?”

  “You were poisoned,” Brian said. “You were hooked up to a breathing machine for twelve hours.”

  “Poisoned?” I vaguely recalled the last moments in Ruth’s kitchen.

  “They found Tetrahydrozoline in your system,” Daniel said. “It’s a potentially lethal poison used in eye drops. Do you have any idea how that stuff got into your system?” Daniel and Brian both waited patiently for my reply.

  With no idea what had happened after I passed out in Ruth’s kitchen, I did the only thing I could do: play dumb. “How did I get to the hospital?” I asked.

  Daniel shrugged. “According to the hospital staff, some guy carried you into the emergency room and shouted to the doctors that you needed immediate medical attention. He gave them your purse and left before they could get his information. Apparently the police are looking for him to find out exactly what happened.”

  “One of the nurses followed him outside,” Brian chimed in, “and saw him drive off in a Comcast cable van.”

  I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. The cable guy must have come into the kitchen and found me lying on the floor.

  I tried to recall those last moments. The details were fuzzy, but it was all coming back to me. I recalled Ruth’s expression as she cradled my face in her hands while begging forgiveness.

  “Hun,” Daniel said, rousing me from my thoughts, “can’t you remember anything?”

  I shook my head.

  He patted my leg. “It’s okay. We can talk about it later. Doctor Wang expects you’ll make a full recovery, but said you’ll need plenty of rest. If you think you’ll be fine for a bit, we’re going to head down to the cafeteria for some dinner. Neither of us have had a thing to eat for hours. We’ll come back shortly.”

  I smiled. “Okay.”

  Brian leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay, mom.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  After Brian and Daniel left the room, I eased my legs over the side of the bed and looked frantically around the room for my purse. I spotted it inside of a plastic bag on the bedside table. I opened it and rummaged around inside for the cell phone Carter had given me.

  How was I going to explain what had happened? Carter would certainly go ballistic when I revealed to him what I’d done. I’d not only botched our only chance at learning the truth, I had almost gotten myself killed in the process. As I was trying to frame the conversation, I heard a voice behind me.

  “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” Carter said, leaning against the doorframe with my orchid in his hand.

  Was he really standing there or was I hallucinating? As he approached the bed, I realized my eyes weren’t deceiving me; it was Carter, all right. But he didn’t look upset. In fact, he looked relieved.

  “What am I going to do with you, Sarah?” he said in a low voice. He set the orchid on the table and shook his head.

  “How did you find out?”

  “I found out a great many facts, thanks to you.”

  I squinted at him. “What do you mean by that?”

  Carter sat down in an armchair adjacent to my bed. “Why did you go to the old lady’s house? Please tell me it wasn’t because you suspected Harding was her son. If you did, it was a stupid, irresponsible thing to do. Especially without letting me know.”

  “Lance Harding is Ruth’s son?” My breath caught in my chest.

  “Okay, so you didn’t know? Well, that’s one notch in your favor.”

  “But wait a minute. How did you know I was at her house?”

  Carter smiled. “I was there, too.”

  “What?” After a brief moment, it all came together. “You were the cable man.”

  “Remember me telling you I needed to find a way to get into the house? It just took a while to get a van, a fake sign, and a uniform. I called Ruth, pretending to be with the cable company. I told her we needed to upgrade her connection. My plan was to get in, search Harding’s room, and hack into their computer. I thought I might find something to link him to Ted Wilcox. As it turned out, you were one step ahead of me. I didn’t see your car because it was parked out back.”

  “What happened after I passed out?”

  “I heard a commotion in the kitchen, went in, and found Ruth sitting there rocking back and forth talking to herself. Then I saw you sprawled out on the floor. Ruth must have panicked when she realized you had figured out what happened to Marty. Come to find out, she poisoned your coffee with the eye drops on the counter. I scooped you up, rushed you to the hospital, and called the police.”

  “Wait, what?” I took a deep breath. “You called the police? Did they arrest Ruth?”

  “Ruth is in custody. I just came from the police station. She confessed to everything.”

  “So? I’m still not clear what happened. Did Ted Wilcox hire Ruth’s son to kill Marty?”

  “Well, according to Ruth, neither Ted nor her son had anything to do with Marty’s death.”

  “Huh?” I squinted at Carter.

  “Ruth did it.” Carter paused when he saw the massive confusion that must have shown on my face. “Ted Wilcox confided in Ruth, and told her everything there was to know about Marty, including the details of his Wednesday afternoon skirt-chasing sessions at the Chestnut Inn. So Ruth waited for Marty in the lobby last Wednesday. When he came down from the room around four-thirty, she followed him outside. It was raining pretty hard, so she opened her umbrella, walked up to Marty, and asked him to kindly help her across the street. And what decent gentleman would refuse a nice old lady?”

  I massaged my forehead, trying to come to terms with the revelation. “So she pushed him into oncoming traffic?”

  “Yep, with a little help from her walking stick. She jammed it into the gutter, causing Marty to trip over it. He landed in the street, head-first. Ruth was able to walk away undetected, due to the heavy rain and a few delivery trucks parked adjacent to the scene. By the time authorities and rescue workers showed up, she was long gone. But here’s the interesting part: Ruth didn’t even know it was her son who had hit Marty until later that day. Talk about karma.”

  “So Lance Harding lied to us, but only to protect his mom?”

  “Ruth’s son never lied because Ruth never told him what she did. She never told Ted the truth, either. The incident was initially written off as an accident, so I guess she figured it was better left unsaid.”

  “And she would have gotten away with it,” I said, “if not for Marty’s wife, Janet. Her hunch about who’d killed her husband was wrong, but overall, her instincts were correct.”

  Carter nodded. “Unfortunately, there’s no pleasure to be had in solving this case. Ruth is very ill, diagnosed with po
st-traumatic stress disorder brought on by the murder of her daughter, Kelly. She’s been treated with various medications over the years, but still battles paranoia and delusions to this day. That’s why she and her son live together. She just wasn’t able to cope with being on her own. She volunteered at places like Andover Estates to keep herself busy.”

  “Which is where she originally befriended Ted Wilcox, right?”

  “Yep. When Ted confided in her about his daughter, Ruth evidently devised a scheme to protect Stephanie in order to ease the pain of having failed her own daughter. When you showed up and revealed how much you knew, she panicked.”

  “I see. And then I was treated to eye-drops in my coffee.”

  Carter nodded. “Ruth had no idea that Stephanie had already ended her relationship with Marty. If the guy had just kept his big mouth shut, he’d probably still be alive.”

  “I wonder why Ted never told Marty that Tiffany was his daughter. I’m sure Marty would have backed off if he’d only known.”

  “Ted was probably ashamed to acknowledge that his daughter was a stripper. And ashamed of the mistakes he’d made as a father.”

  “So what’ll happen to Ruth now?”

  “I expect she’ll end up in a psychiatric hospital. It’s probably where she should have been all along.”

  “What about Janet? Have you spoken to her?”

  “She’s grateful to have closure, in regard to her husband’s death. She’s very concerned about you, Sarah. She asked me to convey her deepest gratitude for risking your life in order to solve this case.” Carter reached inside his jacket and pulled out an envelope. “A bonus, from Janet,” he said, placing it beside me.

  I stuffed it inside my purse. “Actually, I’m the one who’s grateful. I needed this, you know, and I’m not talking about the money.”

  Carter gave me a curious look. “Why?”

  “Because I was starting to feel like everything around me was going to hell. This experience has helped me to see life from a different perspective, like maybe my situation wasn’t so bad after all. Having a near death experience will do that to you.”