Dying for Dominoes

by Jane Elzey

  “Or the bees.”

  “Or the bees,” he agreed with a smile. “Her daddy started that competition so his princess could have a title.”

  How did Shannon know Zack? What could she possibly want with him? Other than something obvious, like a good time in the sack. He was a very handsome man. But he was married. He was at least two decades older if not more, and he wasn’t rich. He wasn’t powerful. Not that either of those things mattered because it sounded like her family was both. Amy remembered the mean curl of the lip sent her way when she and the Honey Bee Queen first locked eyes at Cooley’s Bar. There was no doubt in her mind. Zack’s and Shannon’s paths had crossed. She needed to cross Shannon’s path herself and ask a few pointed questions she hoped she would have the courage to ask.

  Laying her head against the headrest, she closed her eyes and cradled her arm in her lap. It was starting to hurt worse. Behind the ever-constant dull thud, a new sharp pain ran up her arm. She tried to flex her fingers and gasped in pain. Clayton glanced over at her, his eyebrows raised with concern.

  “Why was Beck so mad at Zack that day at the bar? What was he going to do?”

  “Aw, Beck’s more bark than bite. You saw that yourself. He gets that from our daddy. He acts tough because he thinks he has to, but he’s an old softy on the inside.”

  She doubted that. “Why was he looking for Zack?”

  “He saw the Hummer in the parking lot and saw his chance.” Clayton shifted gears through the stoplight and the engine roared. “He was mad because he had his eye on a fleet of trailers at an auction, but Carlisle beat him to the bid. Beck had his whole idea based on those trailers, and then Carlisle just swooped in and stole ’em out from underneath him.”

  “That happened that day?”

  “Nah. Weeks ago. Maybe even two, three months back. Beck was as mad as a wet rooster. I don’t know what he thought he was going to do when they came face-to-face. Kick his ass and make him give ’em up, I reckon. Most of ’em are still sitting on the auction lot waiting to be moved.”

  She opened her eyes as the truck stopped at a light, and then Clayton made a right-hand turn.

  “Hey, this isn’t the way to Cooley’s Bar.”

  “Nah,” he said. “I’m taking you to the hospital. Should have done that from the get-go. You don’t look so good.”

  “Wait! Clayton! I need to get back to Cooley’s Bar. I have to find Zack’s killer.”

  “You need to get some anty-biotics in you, that’s what you need.”

  Aunty Biotics! She grinned at his country accent, and before she could stop herself, she was howling with laughter and pain.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The voice over the police radio overpowered the silence. Ben had the radio turned loud enough for them to hear outside of the car.

  “Probable missing person, white, female. Late forties. Admitted Garland Regional. No identification. Injured. Not critical.”

  Ben and Rian exchanged glances.

  “It’s Amy!” Rian exclaimed. “It has to be!”

  Ben nodded, and they both scrambled into the cruiser. Driving quickly even through the steep curves, an expert behind the wheel, Ben was focused. He squared his jaw as he rounded a curve at high speed. It was easy to see how someone could drive off these slopes. He gripped the wheel a little tighter and then glanced at Rian, relief flooding her face.

  “I can’t wait to hear Amy’s story,” he said.

  “Hail Mary. Nach a Mool.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Amy’s eyes lit up when Rian entered the room with Ben at her heels.

  “Rian! Ben!” She struggled to sit up, winced, and let her head fall back to the pillow.

  Rian pressed her cheek to Amy’s. “I’ve never been so glad to see you in my whole effing life. Honest to God.”

  “Honest to God,” Amy said breathlessly. Tears that had welled in her eyes were now falling freely. She knew just how Rian felt.

  “I can’t believe we found you,” Rian said softly. “We thought you were dead.”

  “I thought I was dying.”

  “You’re so hot,” Rian said, pressing her hand against Amy’s cheek.

  “I’m too sexy for this gown!”

  “A cast for a crown,” Rian agreed. She touched Amy’s cast lightly. “I get to be the first to sign it.”

  “I’d rather keep score on it. Or play tic-tac-toe.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Not anymore. They have really good drugs in this place.”

  Ben smiled and shook his head.

  “But I’m so very tired.” Her eyes drooped closed, but she forced them to open again. “They won’t leave me alone for a minute.”

  The cast from thumb to elbow weighted her arm to her side.

  “It’s been a constant flurry of nurses. They poke me. They prod me. Then they do it again. I’ve even had to talk to the police. You’d think I was Patty Hearst or something.”

  “You might want this,” Rian said, the necklace dangling from her fingers.

  Amy’s eyes filled again with tears.

  “It was at that trailer, on the ground,” Rian added, letting the chain fall into Amy’s outstretched hand. “I can’t tell you how frightened I was when I saw it.”

  Amy held the necklace to her chest. “I thought it was gone forever.”

  A nurse hustled in and shooed Ben and Rian out.

  “See what I mean?”

  It took several tries, bits and pieces, and a few slurred words to get the story told without interruption.

  Rian sat on the edge of the bed, with Ben standing a few feet behind her. “Take me through it one more time, because it still doesn’t make sense to me. You said you were at a bar, and somebody named Beck Beer kidnapped you and held you hostage to make Zack give him a femur. But that was after you were pulled from the Hummer by a two-ton truck. And that was after somebody ran you off the road. Why would anybody run you off the road? Why would Zack have a femur—isn’t that a bone? Are you sure you aren’t delirious?”

  Amy giggled. Leave it to Rian to hear another angle. “Beck is a guy, not a beer. Clayton is his brother and Two Ton is his nickname. They wanted the FEMA trailers that Zack has been buying up. Someone did run me off the road, and I think it’s because they thought it was Zack driving the Hummer. Someone was trying to run him off the road.”

  “FEMA! Femur. Now I get it!” Rian exclaimed.

  “I wasn’t kidnapped, but I thought I was, and I thought I was being held hostage. But it was all a big misunderstanding. And that’s how I got here.”

  “What were you trying to do in the first place?” Ben asked.

  Amy looked at Rian and back at Ben.

  “Ben is one of us,” Rian said sharply. “Whatever you can say to me, you can say to both us.”

  “Was it something to do with Zack’s murder?” he asked.

  Rian sighed. “Murder. What a rap.”

  “I think you both need to tell me what you know,” he said.

  “Why don’t you tell us what you know, first,” Rian said.

  Ben smiled then looked from Rian to Amy and back to Rian. “You know I’d be out of line to share details of an investigation. But, if I give you a tidbit, will you give me one in return?

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said after a moment of silence. “After analyzing the scene at the parking garage, investigators believe the vehicle that struck Zack went from zero to about thirty miles per hour in a span of fewer than fifty feet. People don’t go that fast in a small parking garage unless they intend to do some damage. The tire tracks show that the deceased was directly in front of the driver’s side of the windshield. There’s no evidence the driver made any effort to veer away or avoid hitting him. Nor does it appear the car veered after hitting him.”

  “That feels l
ike déjà vu,” Amy said. “The car that hit me didn’t try to avoid me, either. It rammed me right off the mountain.”

  Rian twisted a curl in her fingers. “Zack was buying up FEMA trailers to grow weed at the cell tower lease sites. He coerced me into helping him get his business started.”

  “I saw the grow room in L91. I guess that’s what you meant when you said Zack was pressuring you for a share of Granny’s business,” Amy said.

  Rian nodded. Ben looked uncomfortable.

  Amy wrinkled her nose. “Oh, and Rian, I gave that key to Beck. He wanted the trailer, and I guess what’s inside was just icing on the cake.”

  Rian laughed and glanced at Ben. “Good riddance.”

  “And,” Amy continued, “I broke into Zack’s office to see if I could find any clues. I broke into his file cabinet and read all of his papers.”

  “Why would you do that?” Ben asked.

  “Because she thought Zelda and Genna hit him.”

  Amy didn’t respond. She was struggling with her self-control. If she was going to tell Rian and Ben about Zelda’s Jimmy Choos, now would be the time.

  “You know, I thought so, too, at first,” Rian added. “I didn’t believe Genna hit a deer. But that was folly.”

  “What did you find in the file cabinet?” Ben asked.

  Amy shut her eyes for a moment as if trying to remember, but that day was clear in her mind. “I discovered that Zack was an even more horrible husband than we thought. I also discovered that I am a terrible person to think my best friend killed him.” Her chin quivered.

  “Then the police came to the door while I was there. I just knew they were going to arrest Zelda. And then later Zelda told me that someone broke in and took all the files and papers. I had to do something.”

  Ben shuffled his feet. “What do you mean?”

  “I decided that if I followed in Zack’s footsteps that day, I would come across someone who could take the blame and guilt off us.”

  “Did you?” Ben asked.

  “I ran across a lot of people who knew Zack and a fat handful who didn’t like him.”

  “I think you ran across one of them who hated him enough to kill him,” Ben said.

  “But who ran me off the road? And why?”

  “I think whoever saw you in the Hummer thought it was Zack. They were trying to run him off the road, not you.”

  They looked up just as the doorway filled with perfume and the clack of high heels. Genna entered the room first, her Dior mules tapping at the floor like Morse code. Even through her drug-hazy glow, Amy recognized the periwinkle raw silk jumpsuit tailored to fit Genna’s curves in all the right places. She glanced down at legs that seemed to go on forever. A Hermes silk scarf highlighted the shades of silver in her hair.

  “Dang. Are you meeting the queen for cocktails?”

  Zelda rushed in on Genna’s heels, her fashionably faded jeans hanging from her hip, embellishments and bling fitting over well-filled back pockets. She tugged a Mylar balloon behind her. It’s a Girl! glittered on the surface.

  Amy looked down at her own sheet-covered body. She’d never felt so out of fashion in her life.

  “You’re alive!” Zelda said.

  Amy beamed at her. “You’re not in jail!”

  “Miracle of miracles!” Genna exclaimed. “You scared us crazy.”

  Ben slipped out the door and left the ladies to their own.

  Slightly embarrassed by the way they gushed over her injuries, she let them gush anyway. She didn’t mind being the center of their attention. They demanded a blow by blow of every mile, so she told them about driving up to the old geezer’s trailer and how he chased her off his driveway with a shotgun. She told them about the bartender who helped her get away but really wanted to help her into her bed. She told them about the bubbas—Beck, Clayton, Charley, Root, and No-Name—and their plans to open a rock and roll trailer park in a place that smelled like rotten eggs. The four of them laughed until tears ran down their faces and Genna snorted coffee out of her nose.

  “Some things never change,” she said, smiling at Genna.

  She told them about the hot little trailer and her diet of Mountain Dew and crackers. She told him about Clayton and his kindness in spite of everything else he had done. “I think Clayton’s sister works at this hospital. Maybe we should find her.”

  Her story finally told, and told again, Amy looked from face to face at the women perched on the corners of her hospital bed. She had defied the odds stacked against her, and now, as they gathered around her, she felt the connection of their friendship once again. She felt it stronger than ever. She hadn’t proven anything, except that she was loved by these women. And that she felt the same about them. She would never doubt them again.

  “I’m sorry about the Hummer,” she said to Zelda. “I wrecked it.”

  “You did more than wreck it,” Genna said. “You torched it like barbeque.”

  “No, Beck did that.”

  “Water under the bridge,” Zelda said, touching Amy’s cheek with a cool hand. “I don’t want to drive a Hummer anyway, and it was fully insured.”

  “Which means I get my money off the top,” Rian piped up.

  Genna poked her with an elbow.

  Satisfied and empty of angst, Amy’s eyelids grew heavy, their voices ushering her to sleep.

  “Things are going to be just fine,” she heard Zelda whisper as the nurse entered the room.

  “Yes,” the nurse said sweetly. “Everything is going to be fine. And it’s time for you ladies to leave.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ben drove toward the Bennfield Hotel, his mind hopping like a hungry rabbit.

  Some of the facts were finally falling into place. He had learned that Carlisle purchased champagne at a liquor store right inside the Garland County line at a place called Garland Cooley’s Bar and Package. The same bar that Amy claimed she visited before her mishap on the hillside.

  He learned from a friend of the force, who shared more than a few details of the case, the receipt from the ruined bottle of champagne led them to the store, where they were indeed able to confirm from the surveillance video that Carlisle was in and out of the package store before 7 p.m. It would have taken him a few minutes to drive into Hot Springs proper. He went to a lingerie store at the mall, and receipts from the store showed his purchase—$127.19—was made at 7:48 p.m. Assuming he went straight to the hotel from there, this would have put Zack Carlisle in the parking garage just past eight. The report also claimed the time stamp on the garage surveillance video showed a Hummer entering the garage at 8:11.

  Cooley’s Bar was at the center of this. Someone saw Zack there that day and followed him to the Bennfield Hotel. Someone who hated him enough to run him down.

  There was malice in the way Zack Carlisle had been run down and left to die on the cold cement floor. An unhappy wife could have that kind of rage, but Zelda didn’t strike him as that angry. And four women planning such a crime didn’t fit. He didn’t think they were guilty of anything more than a few bold lies and a lot of DUI.

  Zack was alive at 8:11 p.m. and dead thirty minutes later when a hotel guest exiting the parking garage found his body.

  Ben pulled up to the curb at the Bennfield Hotel and parked.

  “Like I told the other cop,” the bartender at the lobby bar said, “these two women drank at the lobby bar way after happy hour. One was tall and thin and a great tipper. The other one was shorter and dark-haired and pissed off at someone. They went to the bar balcony to smoke, but the floor had just been painted, so they stood right outside the door. I could see them from here,” he said. “The tall one left about ten or fifteen minutes before the other one. I don’t know where they went from here.”

  Ben nodded. It was possible, even probable, that Genna Gregory left the garage minutes before Za
ck arrived. In her statement, Gregory claimed she was on the road home by eight. Unfortunately, the surveillance video only recorded cars entering the garage. One way in, another way out. That was a foolish mistake on the hotel’s part, Ben thought, but unless some other evidence surfaced, it was impossible to know for sure when Genna Gregory left Hot Springs.

  In her statement, Zelda Carlisle claimed she had fallen asleep in her room only to be awakened by those “horrible sirens.” No one had yet corroborated her story about her whereabouts at the time of Carlisle’s accident.

  But that didn’t mean she was guilty.

  If he wanted to make sure Rian and her friends didn’t get hauled in for a murder rap they didn’t commit, he had to come up with something more than a hunch.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “No offense, Amy, but your story makes my head hurt,” Genna said. “This Beck dude was in a buying war with Zack over FEMA trailers? Can you imagine that?”

  “I don’t think Zack knew about Beck’s plan or vice versa,” Amy said. “I think Zack and Beck shared bad timing.”

  Genna, Rian, and Zelda were back and crowded around the little table in the hospital room. She was trying to track their conversation, but, as usual, it was bouncing around the circle. What she needed was Mitch Miller’s bouncing ball to follow along.

  Good drugs. Did she say that out loud? No one seemed to notice.

  Genna poured lukewarm beer she had smuggled in via her purse into three Styrofoam cups. “You don’t get one, Amy. You’re already juiced,” she said with a swift smile.

  Rian ripped open a bag of Fritos from the vending machine, stuffing several in her mouth at once. “Maybe Zack overheard a conversation at the bar when he was there,” she mumbled. “Maybe that’s where he got the idea of using the trailers at the tower sites in the first place.”

  Genna burped.

  “Excuse you,” Zelda said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Genna responded and burped again.