by Liz Turner
It just didn’t make sense.
She put her hands to her head and forced herself to think, to think hard about a piece of crucial evidence. The piece that Randolf needed.
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was convinced that she knew. The subconscious mind had already connected the dots and created a pattern that made sense. Her conscious mind just hadn’t caught up with it.
Alright, she told herself. Let’s throw all the assumptions about the case out of the window. Let’s rethink it. Let’s start with a blank page.
She picked up three pebbles and laid them out beside her. Pebble one, a large gray oblong one, represented the murder of the red-coated girl. Pebble two, a small black pebble with a streak of red running through it, represented the murder of LeeLee. Pebble three, a bright blue speckled one, represented the murder of Hanson. In the murderer’s world, there was a logical connection between these three pebbles. A flow.
So what was it?
With a frown, she rearranged the pebbles, so that LeeLee’s pebble was on top, and the red-coat girl and Hanson were on the bottom.
Isn’t this how she was looking at the problem? LeeLee’s murder being the crux of it? LeeLee’s murder was the main murder on everyone’s mind. After all, she was rich, and it was her painting that had gone missing.
Victoria added another pebble, putting it between LeeLee’s pebble and the red-coated girl’s pebble. Hanson had said the red coated girl asked him a lot about art.
There was an intrinsic error she was making, wasn’t she? Victoria thought. LeeLee’s murder might look like it was the center of the case, but, in fact, it was the red-coated girl who had been murdered first.
That was the main mystery here.
If the red-coated girl had been a scam artist, and her partner had murdered her, why do it after the party? It would make sense if the painting had been stolen at the party, the red-coat girl and her partner ran away, and then he murdered her.
But that had not been the way it happened.
The red coated girl was murdered first, then LeeLee had been murdered, then the painting had been stolen, and then Hanson had been murdered.
The painting had been stolen impulsively after the murderer killed LeeLee. Victoria realized. That made sense. She began listing the facts she was sure of.
First, the murderer had to be local because he knew the hidden trail where he had killed the red coated girl.
Second, the murderer had decided to kill LeeLee after he killed the red coated girl.
What could that mean? Did LeeLee know something about the red-coated girl and the murderer didn’t want her to talk?
It was as if a flashbulb went off in her brain.
Of course! She’d gotten it wrong from that point. She had focused on the missing CD when LeeLee had said something else that day. Something far more incriminating. Since she was a fashion baroness, she had confidently said that she could identify the tailor or designer who created the red-coated girl’s coat. If she had identified the Italian tailor who made the coat, it would have revealed the red-coated girl’s identity.
Someone didn’t want her identity revealed. That’s why LeeLee had to die.
As for Hanson, Victoria gasped again, as the case suddenly clicked together for her.
Hanson had not testified to the police about LeeLee. He hadn’t talked to the police about anything really. The murderer could have killed him at any time, so why did he kill him just as he was about to give his testimony? How did the murder even know that Hanson was going to talk right then?
Because the murderer found out, quite by accident. Victoria realized, as the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. The murderer walked in when Hanson was talking about the red-coated girl, and misunderstood when Hanson said, immediately after, that he had to talk to Randolf.
“Hello, Victoria.”
Fear pulsed through every part of her body, replacing all the blood in it. “Steve.” She said. “Hello.”
He stood in front of her, and for the first time, Victoria noticed how immensely tall, and powerful he seemed. His eyes were glinting, and a sharp smile lit up his face.
“Come to see Amanda?” He asked. “She’s picking up Ida. Come on in, why don’t you?”
“No, I think I better leave,” Victoria said. “I’ve got to go pick up Annie too.”
“Oh, I thought Annie and Byron come home together?” Steve said.
“Yes… well… Byron is busy today.” Victoria said. “I've got to get going, Steve.” She walked away, crossing her fingers.
A sharp pain exploded on the side of her head. The world went black.
Chapter 18
When Victoria woke up, she was in a car, speeding on the highway. She groaned and tried to get up, but found her hands tied with duct tape.
“How did you know?” Steve asked her, his hands tight on the steering wheel.
“Steve, what is this? Let me go!” She pretended to shake her hands as if she were trying to free herself. While Steve’s focus was on the road, she slipped a thumb inside her pocket and pressed the dial button twice.
“Oh don’t pretend,” Steve said. “You were asking Amanda about LeeLee’s painting, weren’t you? A deliberate jab at me, I thought. Then I saw you at Hanson’s and you’re talking about the red-coated girl.” Steve laughed. “Look at that, even I’ve started calling Isabella the red-coated girl.”
“You killed all three,” Victoria said.
“Correct,” Steve smiled. “Now I’m going to kill you too. Back on the trail, where I killed Isabella.”
“You won’t get away with it,” Victoria said. “Not this time. It’s daylight.”
“There won’t be people on that trail,” Steve said. “I think it’ll work out fine. Besides, I’m not going to wait around. I’m going to take Ida and disappear again.”
“That’s why you killed the red coated girl, didn’t you?” Victoria said. “Because she was Ida’s real mother?”
“How did you conclude that?” Steve looked surprised. “I thought I hid my tracks well.”
“I didn’t even consider you a suspect, really,” Victoria said. “But when I thought hard, it all clicked into place. The red-coated girl was asking Hanson about art. I assumed that had something to do with the missing painting, but that was a red herring. The red-coated girl was trying to ask Hanson about an artist. An artist who hates any kind of fame, and refuses to have photos taken of him. But you made a mistake. Hanson made a brochure featuring you. You were furious but there was nothing you could do. Somehow, Ida’s mother saw that photo and tracked you down. She went to LeeLee’s party, thinking you’d be there. She took the CD that LeeLee had made, hoping that you would be on it too. She was tracking you.”
“Right you are,” Steve said, in a horribly cheerful voice. “She was always such a pain.”
“You came to ask Hanson about the money, and heard him and me talking about the red-coat girl, and heard Hanson saying he would testify in front of Randolf. You panicked and you thought I had solved the case. Still, you had a bit of time. Hanson wasn’t going to testify for the next three hours. So you snuck into his office when you knew it would be deserted, and shot him and his secretary.”
“Correct,” Steve said. “So your tally’s wrong, by the way. I’ve killed four people, not three.”
“As for LeeLee, you wanted her dead because if Isabella’s identity was revealed, that would end in disaster for you.”
“Correct again,” Steve said. “There’s one person in this world I love more than myself and that’s my daughter. When Isabella said she’d divorce me all those years ago, Ida was only three. I knew that the courts would give Ida over to Isabella, so I took Ida and ran away. I gave up being a doctor and began painting. I had always wanted to be an artist anyway. Ida and I wandered around from one city to the other for years, before I settled on Larch Springs five years ago. I thought I’d found a home. I thought I could finally bring Ida up the way she deserved with a hap
py family, a good home, in a fine town.
Then Isabella traced me, somehow. She found my paintings online and recognized them as my work. I’ve got a fan following online, but I didn’t realize how disastrous that would be to me.
I thought everything would work out. So maybe she did found my paintings. She emailed me but I didn't think she could possibly trace me here to Larch Springs. After all, I was very careful about hiding my identity.”
“She traced you anyway,” Victoria said. “Didn’t she?”
“Yes,” Steve said. “Just when I was getting my life together, Isabella came around to ruin it. Why? She never cared about Ida as much as I did. She should just have… stayed in Italy, in her fine home with her fine servants. But no, she had to come chase after me. She could have had another baby. She didn’t need to come after mine.”
“Ida was hers too,” Victoria said. “A mother doesn’t just forget about a child that’s been taken from her. Isabella must have been tortured for years, wondering where Ida was, whether she was alright.”
“Ida doesn’t care about Isabella,” Steve said. “I never let her see a single picture of her mother. I am her only parent. It’s Ida and me and now, Amanda. Though I doubt if she’ll run away with us.”
“I don’t think Ida will want to go either.”
“I’m her father,” Steve said. “I make the rules.”
“So, when did you kill Isabella?”
“I came to the party late. I think she was planning to confront me there. Luckily, I came as she was just leaving. She was phoning a taxi, but I cornered her outside LeeLee’s house. I told her I was tired of running, and that I was sorry. I told her that I would take her to Ida. The fool believed me. She was so excited about seeing Ida that she didn’t see death in my eyes. She was the walking dead the second she got in the car with me.”
“So you killed Isabella and when you overheard LeeLee talking about how she knew the designer of the coat, you decided to kill her too.”
“I got greedy taking that painting,” Steve said. “I regret it. I didn’t realize Dr. Molly would notice. I know Declan is such an idiot he wouldn’t even realize its true worth. If Dr. Molly hadn’t told you about it, I would have gotten away scot-free with the two million dollars. Enough for lifelong financial security.”
“Then finally, You killed Hanson because you thought he was going to say something about Isabella.”
“I panicked, honestly,” Steve said. “I didn’t expect to see you sitting there, I didn’t expect to hear Hanson talking about Isabella. I thought maybe she told him something, and you jogged his memory, and now Randolf would find out.”
“You know the biggest mistake you made, though?” Victoria asked, smiling in relief as they approached the trailhead.
“What?” Steve asked.
“You tied me up, but forgot to take my phone out of my pocket.”
The car swerved, as Steve braked, too late. Randolf stood ahead of them, with a road block, his car’s lights flashing. Constable Keeney stood with him.
“I called Randolf,” Victoria said. “He heard everything and now that you’ve conveniently narrated your crimes, I think you’re going to be heading to jail for a very long time.”
“I’ll kill you!” Steve sputtered, putting his hands around her throat. “I’ll. I’ll..”
But Randolf was yanking the door open, and then dragging Steve to the ground and handcuffing him. Victoria, a hand to her throat, gasped in pain and watched as Steve screamed obscenities at her.
Epilogue
There was no wedding. Amanda adapted. She was heartbroken about Steve but, as she told Victoria, “I’m very glad he was found out. I never had a clue. Can you imagine that? I dated him for years, and didn’t know this side of his personality.”
As for Ida, she was reunited with Isabella’s parents, a dignified man with fluffy white hair, and a trim lady with Ida’s eyes and chin. Weeping, they swept her into their arms and told her that they had missed her ever since she had been kidnapped by Steve.
Amanda, with tears in her eyes, had told Ida she was willing to adopt her. Ida had said she’d rather go with her grandparents.
“For now, I want to be as far away from this place as possible.” She said.
“I hope she has a happy ending,” Amanda said as she and Victoria waved goodbye. “I feel sorry for her. Steve ruined her life with his selfish actions.”
“But he was, in his own way, a good father, wasn’t he?” Victoria asked. “It’s strange, how people are. They can be demons and angels at the same time. Steve would have done anything to keep Ida happy.”
“No,” Amanda said. “Sooner or later, his possessive behavior of her would have affected her. I believe she’s better off in the stable environment her grandparents will provide her. A relationship based on a lie is no relationship at all.”
“You’re right,” Victoria said. “I suppose she will be happier this way. I pray she is.”
“You scared us all,” Amanda said, giving Victoria a hug. “I’m so sorry for the injuries Steve caused.”
“It’s not your fault, Amanda,” Victoria said. “You couldn’t have known. None of us suspected the monster hidden inside the man.”
She dropped Amanda off home and drove back to her own home. She pulled up in her driveway, and then, impulsively, reversed.
It was a short drive to Corporal Jager’s home. Victoria told herself that this was something she had to do. She hadn’t seen him or spoken to him beyond the official statements he had taken from her. Randolf, she knew, had been too busy.
Still, she had received a bright bouquet from him the next morning, with a card saying, “You are a hero to me, personally and professionally.”
Arriving at his house, she took a deep breath, got out, and rang the bell. She didn’t know quite what she was going to say or do.
Randolf opened it and smiled down at her. “I was expecting you.” He said.
*** The End ***
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Getaway to Murder Book 3
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Murder at Starlight Resort Book 1
Murder At The Barbecue Book 2
Murder At The Renaissance Fair Book 3
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French Cuisine Murder Book 1
Wedding Bells & Murder? Book 2
About the Author
Liz lives in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies with her husband Rick and Golden Lab, Abbie.
She's had a lifelong penchant for mysteries of all kinds. As a girl, she loved reading Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys stories before graduating on to Agatha Christie books. Figuring out who the culprit was always seemed to capture her imagination. Now she enjoys writing mysteries herself.
Not content to stay in one genre, she has written novels in mystery & suspense/romance and most recently - cozy mysteries.
When she's not writing she can be found hiking, camping and enjoying the great outdoors.
Connect with her on Facebook, or email her directly at [email protected].
Turn to the next page for a preview of Liz Turner's newest release:
Getaway to Murder - A Cozy Mystery in the Mountains (Book 3)
Preview of: Getaway
to Murder
Prologue
Twenty-four hours before the murders began, the seven people at the center of it all checked into the Larch Luminary Hotel for a mindfulness retreat. Deedee, the twenty-five-year-old who had arranged it all, stood greeting the others in the hallway and helping them check in. Her boss, famed self-help guru Leo Loams had already checked himself in and was busy meditating up in his suite. So it was up to Deedee to reassure the others and ask for forgiveness for his eccentricities.
“He’ll meet you all tomorrow, and explain.” She was saying, to one after another as she escorted them up.
“You know how he is.” She said to Matt, an athletic man with a goatee, shrewd eyes, and a permanent hunch in his shoulders.
“Oh, the things I could tell you,” Matt said with a wink. “But, well, as his lawyer, there’s client confidentiality. I have to maintain a dignified silence.”
“Oh, you can forget about being a lawyer for a couple of days,” Deedee said. “Leo wants us to be happy this weekend. He wants a relaxed time, where we reconnect with nature and each other.”
“Is that all he wants?” Matt asked with a laugh.
“Why?” Deedee asked.
“He sent me a letter,” Matt said. “Did he tell you about it?”
“A letter?” Deedee looked surprised. “You mean the email? The invitation? I drafted that, and he sent it.”
“Nope.” Matt took out an envelope from his jacket pocket and wiggled it in front of her. “This letter.”
“I don’t know,” Deedee said, looking quite put off. “If he sent you and the others that, he didn’t tell me anything about it. All I did was draft the email.”
“Well, I guess we’ll know soon enough if he sent it to the others. Who else is here?” Matt asked.
“Gray and Cara have arrived,” Deedee said. “Tess and Jim will be coming soon, I suppose.”
“I see.” Matt didn’t say much. He opened the hotel room and rolled his bag inside. Deedee was about to wave him off when he stopped her. “Say Deedee. I had a question.”