Death Overdue

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Death Overdue Page 27

by Allison Brook


  “You were curious about Laura’s lover. Helena must have figured you knew it was Lloyd or that you’d find out very soon. I was worried about you. So was John Mathers.”

  I looked at him. “Were you following me last night when I left the supermarket?”

  Dylan grinned, making my heartbeat quicken. “Maybe I followed you there too.”

  “Did John tell you to keep an eye on me?”

  “We both agreed you needed looking after. I knew you wouldn’t agree to skip Helena’s party tonight. Since John didn’t have the manpower to send someone from the force, I offered my services.”

  I smiled. “Poor Dylan. You had to hang around all evening, waiting for Jared and me to leave.”

  “At least I was saved from having to stand guard outside the cottage all night.”

  I turned to him. “You would have done that?”

  He nodded. “I would have.”

  “That’s very sweet.”

  “You’re sweet.”

  I yawned as he moved to kiss me.

  “I’m sorry.” My ears grew warm with embarrassment.

  “So am I.” He gave me a quick hug. “You’re exhausted. We’ll talk tomorrow. Are you scheduled to work?”

  “From noon till five.”

  “How about I pick you up at six for dinner?”

  I smiled. “I’d like that.”

  As he got to his feet, I said, “I have one question. Did John really suspect the murderer was someone in the Foster family, or did he suspect Helena?”

  “Helena, of course. She must have been furious when she found out her husband and best friend were having an affair. She went over to the Fosters’ house to have it out with Laura. Judging by her choice of weapon, she hadn’t intended to kill her. When Al announced he knew who the killer was, Helena had to get rid of him too. The police found his iPad in her bedroom closet. It had been wiped clean.”

  I missed the closet. “Poor Bryce. Falling for his wife’s killer.”

  “Helena’s an egotist,” Dylan said. “The affair must have rankled her all these years. She made a play for him to get back at Laura.”

  “And to get her new furniture faster and cheaper, no doubt.” I thought a moment. “Do you think she gave her husband something that caused him to have a heart attack?”

  “I’ll discuss it with John and leave it in his hands. Now that his wife has confessed to killing two people, they may think it wise to exhume Lloyd’s body.”

  I stood, and Dylan walked me to my bedroom.

  “I’ll say good night.” He took me in his arms and kissed me.

  This time I didn’t yawn.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Word of Helena’s arrest had spread throughout Clover Ridge by the time I arrived at work at noon. I’d just taken off my parka when Angela and Sally came dashing through my office door, eager to hear every detail of the previous night’s events. I told them I’d gone snooping and discovered Laura’s jewelry that had been taken the day she’d been killed.

  “I told you you’d find something if you looked hard enough,” Angela crowed.

  “But was that good advice?” Sally asked. “Helena came after Carrie and almost succeeded in driving the car into the ravine. She and Jared would have been killed.”

  “That’s when Superman came to the rescue,” Angela teased.

  My face heated. “I was lucky Dylan was watching out for me. He saved my life.”

  “Anything else you’d like to share?” Angela asked.

  “Not at the moment.” I kept the knowledge that I’d be seeing Dylan in six hours to myself.

  “You’re hiding something,” Angela said.

  Sally looked pointedly at the clock. “Angela, why don’t we let Carrie get some work done.” She winked at me. “I’m sure she’ll share whatever else there is when she’s ready.”

  I watched them leave before turning to my computer to check my schedule for the day. My two friends.

  I did some necessary paperwork for an hour and a half and then headed down to the meeting room to introduce a folk-singing trio to the audience. It took me longer than usual to get there because several patrons stopped me, wanting to know if I was all right and if it was true that Helena Koppel had murdered Laura Foster and Al Buckley. I introduced the trio, stayed long enough to take a few photos, and then headed upstairs to return to my office.

  “Carrie.”

  I turned to see who was calling me. My stomach lurched. Dorothy Hawkins was beckoning to me from the reference desk. We’d been on civil terms since she’d paid for the car window she’d smashed. Still, I approached warily.

  “I heard Helena Koppel tried to run you and Jared Foster off the road.”

  “She’s down at the station being questioned for murdering Laura Foster and Al Buckley.”

  Dorothy frowned. “I never did like that woman. Too bad Connecticut no longer has the death penalty for murderers. At least she’ll spend the rest of her life in prison.”

  I turned, and then I remembered. “You’re part of the reason Helena was caught.”

  “Really?”

  “I saw you come down from the attic last week. I never knew the library had an attic. That’s where I went looking for the journal Laura used to write when she worked here. Your aunt Evelyn helped me find it.”

  A look of longing and nostalgia crossed Dorothy’s face. “Tell Aunt Ev I think about her every day.”

  “I will.” I smiled as I headed for my office.

  Evelyn paid me a visit minutes before I was about to drive home. Her eyes glittered with excitement.

  “The patrons can’t stop talking about how you proved Helena Koppel killed Laura and Al.”

  “It’s getting to be a bit much. Two reporters want to interview me, and Uncle Bosco’s called three times today to make sure I’m okay.”

  Evelyn’s face took on a stern expression. “Still, I wish you hadn’t put yourself in danger by nosing around her condo. If Dylan hadn’t stopped Helena, you and Jared could have been killed!”

  “I promise to be more careful next time,” I teased.

  “I hope you mean that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because helping you find Laura and Al’s killer turned out to be my mission. And since we did such a good job of it, I was told we’ll be working together on future ‘projects.’”

  “What exactly does that mean?”

  But Evelyn had gone, leaving me as suddenly as she’d arrived. I put on my parka and headed for the parking lot. I hummed as I started my car, wondering where Dylan and I would have dinner. My life at that moment was perfect. I had a good job, friends, loving relatives nearby, and the start of a romantic relationship. I knew it wouldn’t stay perfect—nothing ever did—but for now, I was utterly happy.

  Acknowledgments

  A special thanks to my hardworking, wonderful agent, Dawn Dowdle; to my terrific editor, Faith Black Ross; and to Megan Grande for the great and thorough job she did copyediting Death Overdue.

 

 

 


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