“You are such an annoyance.” He waved his key-wrapped knuckles in the air. “I guess it’s time to follow through with my earlier warnings, the ones you chose to ignore.”
She bolted toward the door, but like a cat after a mouse, he sprang at her over the desk, grabbed her ponytail, and pulled her back against him. His key-bound hand seized her throat. Her hands clutched at his, trying to loosen his grasp, but the more she struggled, the harder he pressed a key tip into her neck.
“How did Crystal,” she wheezed, “I mean, Amy Miller, the ecoterrorist, come up with the idea to use something as toxic as blue-ringed octopus venom as a weapon?” Addie wedged two fingers under his, fighting to breathe. “Was it from the sister she told me about, the nerdy scientist?”
“That nerdy scientist, my friend”—he sneered and pressed the key end into the flesh under her chin—“happens to hold a PhD in Marine Biology.”
“So,” Addie gasped, forcing the words out, “she told Crystal about it?”
“No, Crystal got the idea from a book she read.”
“Don’t tell me,” she squeaked. “State of Fear?”
Patrick’s body stiffened against hers. “How did you know?”
She tried to force out a laugh but choked.
“Yeah, the octopus venom was a brilliant idea. It’s not common and would be harder to detect and trace. Her sister had the means of supplying it so . . .” His arm twitched with a slight shrug. “After they made the arrangements Crystal threw her copy of the book in someone’s garbage can, so she couldn’t be linked to it.”
Addie’s mind flashed to the copy one of her customers had brought into the store, and hoped that Crystal’s prints would still be on it. “How did you do it?” Her foot slipped out from under her. She winced when the key jerked, scraping up her neck. “That toxin is lethal even to touch, from what I’ve heard.”
“It was easy.” She cringed when his hot breath drifted down the back of her shirt. “Her sister, Elise, told her how to handle it. I picked up lunch earlier than usual, about ten thirty; then Crystal doctored it according to instructions and was going to take it into Teresa about eleven, but then she discovered that Teresa already had a visitor. Your friend Jonathan.” His weight shifted. Addie struggled to regain her footing. The key slipped, scraping down her throat to her collarbone. “Crystal got worried because she overheard their plan was to go for lunch. She had to stop it. We couldn’t let this ruin our plans. She phoned Teresa and told her it was her birthday, and that she wanted Teresa to have lunch with her because she didn’t know anyone else in town.” He snickered. “She even said she was depressed about being alone and turned on the tears.”
“And Teresa, being the kindhearted person she was, felt sorry for her and obliged.” Addie managed to wheeze.
“Yup, Jonathan left right after that, and Crystal took in their lunch along with a bottle of whiskey to have a birthday drink with her.”
“That way, when an autopsy was done the alcohol would show up in it, and there wouldn’t be any questions, right?”
“That was until you started nosing around. Making the police doubt it was an accident like they’d thought.” She fought the urge to heave at the stench of his rancid breath across her cheek. She winced and braced her foot against the desk leg. “How did you do it? How did you get Teresa in the stairwell?” She squirmed until her fingers eased some of the pressure from her throat.
“It was easy, after Teresa ate her doctored food. Crystal sent me a text that said done. I phoned Teresa and told her I needed her to come down to the event room. I told her the elevators were jammed with visitors, so I’d meet her at the stairwell entrance and explain the issue. By the time Teresa arrived at the bottom, the poison was kicking in. She was wobbly, had difficulty seeing and breathing.” The cool, flat tone of his voice sent quivers up Addie’s spine that niggled at the base of her skull. “I opened the door and just had to give her a little bump, sending her down the stairs to the basement level.”
“Like you tried to do with me that day at the top of the stairs?”
“That was one of the warnings I gave you. I wanted you to see how easily accidents can happen so you’d back off and realize there was no need to be poking around.”
“What happened then?”
His arm tightened his hold across her chest. “Crystal raced down the stairs, got the keys from me, and went back up to search Teresa’s office to see if there was a copy of the ledgers.”
“Did she find them?” Addie grunted under the pressure on her windpipe.
“No, she tore the office apart, but there was nothing. She figured she must have been too late and Teresa had already passed them on, maybe to that Jonathan fellow. She knew she’d have to start playing with him after that to find out if he had them.”
“What then?” Addie pulled at his hand tightening around her throat.
“Crystal cleaned up the office, grabbed the sushi containers and the book out of the case, and then hid them in my office. She was supposed to text me when it was all clear and I’d meet her in the stairwell to return the keys to Teresa’s wrist.”
“But she’d forgotten the keys in the cabinet and left the office unlocked and had to go back in, right? But then”—Addie groaned—“I showed up before that could happen?”
“Yeah,” he huffed. “I hadn’t counted on you bringing the certificate in that day. I tried to convince you to give the papers to me, but no,” he hissed, and droplets spattered across her cheek. “You had to hand it to her in person, didn’t you, and mess up a perfectly good plan?” His grip on her throat tightened and squeezed. “I had to text Crystal and warn her that you were on your way up. She was still in my office locking up the book, so I told her to stay put and watch until you went into Teresa’s office, and then she ran to the desk so she could text me when you left and tell me you were on your way back down.”
“Is that when she went back in and took the envelope?” Addie nodded, attempting to turn her head to avoid his putrid breath and spittle on her face. “You knew from what I told you that that you’d need the appraisal to get top dollar for the book when you sold it.”
“Every dollar counts.” He snorted. “But just my luck you used the staircase after you left instead of the elevator and found her body.” He wheezed, pressing his weapon harder into her neck. “You have no idea how much your arrival screwed up a well-laid plan, do you?” He jerked her hard against him.
“Don’t forget about the two coffee cups they’d had a drink in that Crystal forgot to grab from the trash can. Or was that part of the plan, to throw off the investigation, too?’
He laughed. “No, but it turned out all right at first, didn’t it? The police, including you, assumed she was drunk and fell.” His voice tightened. “Damn that lipstick, though.”
She wedged a finger under his hand and swallowed hard. “But then there was still the little matter of the keys in the lock, which of course you couldn’t let Crystal remove after in case I’d seen them.”
“You’re right. It was a silver lining in disguise, though. I did get the documents you dropped off. Except for the fact that the key would have been back on her wrist if you hadn’t shown up when you did and a lot of unnecessary questions could have been avoided.”
“Why are you telling me all this, Patrick?” His hand shifted, pinching her skin. “Aren’t you afraid I’m going to talk?”
His raspy laugh echoed in her ear, sending prickles across her shoulders. “I told you there was no way out.” He pressed the fistful of keys hard against her jugular and twisted. “Besides, this is kind of fun. Like a cat playing with its prey before the final blow, and remember, you brought this on yourself when you didn’t heed the message on your blackboard.” He jerked her down toward the floor.
She braced and anchored her back leg, managing to remain upright. He yanked on her again. A key tip bit into her chin. Her front foot thrashed in the air and her boot toe clanged against a metal trash can beside the de
sk. She was not about die tonight, not here, like this. She’d darn well make sure of that, or . . . she swallowed hard. At least she’d die fighting. She tightened her leg muscle, kicked hard, and sent the can clattering across the room crashing into the door. Patrick recoiled, releasing his grip on her throat. She elbowed backward, striking him hard in the ribs, propelled herself around the desk, and flung the door open. “Marc!”
Chapter 33
Marc seized her wrist and whipped her behind him. She bounced off Jerry’s chest and thudded against the corridor wall.
“Freeze!” Marc commanded. His and Jerry’s guns held steady on Patrick.
The sound of heavy boots stomped down the hall toward her. With a trembling hand, she pointed two more officers to the open door and sucked in a strangled breath. She closed her eyes against the rising panic. The sound of handcuffs snapping closed brought her back to reality. Marc’s matter-of-fact voice inside the office reading Patrick his rights echoed in her ears; then the two officers appeared and escorted Patrick down the hall.
“It’s over,” she murmured. Her body numb from head to toe, she slid down the wall to the floor and jumped when a hand touched her knee.
“Whoa. Steady now. It’s done, over.” Marc’s soothing voice calmed her nervous tension as he crouched down beside her.
A smile tickled the corners of her lips. “Well, hello there. What brings you by today?” An anxious giggle bubbled at the back of her throat.
“What am I going to do with you?” His hand swept strands of hair from her face, but his thumb lingered on her jaw, stroking her bruised chin and mottled throat. “You’re darn lucky that you at least told Serena where you were going and hadn’t sworn her to secrecy when I went looking for you.” He pressed his lips tight. His eyes darkened when they focused on her neck. “When will you learn that your best teachers are your last mistakes? You keep making the same ones over and over again.”
“Well, you know me.” She shrugged. “If there’s a knot, I have to unravel it and see where the threads lead.”
He locked his eyes on hers. “One day, I might not get here in time to rescue you.”
“Rescue me?” An indignant gasp escaped her throat. “I was on my way out the door when you happened by. I think I did pretty well on my own, thank you very much.” She glowered at him and choked back something between a laugh and a sob as her insides still shook with residual fear. “And . . . and why were you looking for me?”
“Because I wanted to show you”—he fished his phone out of his pocket and swiped at the screen—“this . . .”
She glanced at a photo of Crystal, aka Amy Miller, and waved it off. “Pffft, old news.”
“Okay, I can see you have a bit of a story to tell me. But maybe I do know something that you don’t?” He gave her an exaggerated wink.
“I doubt it, but you can try if you like,” she grinned.
“You see, since Crystal—err, Amy—was already flagged as a person of interest, my buddy in the FBI sent me the photo along with a complete list of names that popped up with it, aka Shannon Jenkins, aka Jenifer Rollins, aka Tracy Bower, who are all none other than Amy Miller, ecoterrorist, and all wanted on fraud and embezzlement charges across the Midwest.” Her brows shot up. “And you haven’t heard the best part yet.”
“I’m afraid to ask.” She hung her head between her knees.
He ruffled her hair. “Patrick’s real name is Craig Saunders. He has a number of aliases, too, and is wanted on the same warrants. He and Crystal were partners and have been for years.”
“That I did know.” His brow creased. “I mean, not his alias names, but the fact they were partners. I suspected those two knew each other right from the second she told me at Catherine’s brunch that she was from the Midwest, and then again when I saw them at dinner at the Grey Gull. Things looked a little too cozy for them having just started to work together, and he confirmed it to me just a few minutes ago. Right in there.” She smiled broadly, pointing to the office. “While I got a full confession out of him, based on following my gut and my theories.”
Marc’s lips tightened. “I guess I should have viewed your theories more as a lead on the hard evidence that I keep going on about”—he glanced down at his cap in his hand, and his voice lowered—“and not have been so dismissive of them.”
A toothy grin crossed her face. “Chief Chandler, are you actually saying that my theories might be valid at times?”
His face flushed. “Um, well . . .”
“You are, aren’t you?” She playfully slapped his knee. “Imagine what we could do if we actually worked together.”
“And we will, after you graduate from the police academy. That is, if you live long enough”—his head gestured toward Patrick’s office—“and don’t have some madman kill you before then.”
She wrinkled up her face and poked her tongue out at him. “Help me.” She held out her hand. “I need to stand. I think I’ve cramped up.”
“Thank God, my knees were giving way, squatting like that.”
“Remember, neither of us are sixteen anymore.” With his help, she hobbled to her feet. “The adrenaline is wearing off and this”—she pointed to the welts on her throat—“is starting to smart. I need to go home and pour a stiff drink.” She started down the hall.
“Not so fast.” He grabbed her arm and tilted her head up, inspecting her neck. “I don’t see any blood, and you seem to be speaking okay, so it’s not urgent. If you want, you can go down to emergency and get checked out after, but I need a full statement about what happened here tonight.”
She groaned and flopped down on the bench by the elevator. “Okay, but be gentle, I’m not sure how much I can take right now.”
“I’m always gentle.” A smile tickled the corners of his mouth as he sat down. She gave him a shoulder bump and laughed. He did a snorty-smirky thing and pulled his notepad and pen from his pocket, balanced it on his knee, and waited.
When she finished regaling the evening’s events, she rubbed her burning neck and leaned back against the wall. “He really believed I wouldn’t get out of there alive, didn’t he?” She looked at Marc. “Why else would he be so smug about it all and brag to me about his accomplishments?”
“I think he overestimated his skills and underestimated yours. But I’d say that by the look of the welts on your neck, you are darn lucky that you did survive.” He squeezed her hand.
“Yeah.” She shivered with the memory of the keys pressed against her throat. “But even with everything he said, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s still a missing detail in this case, and it’s something important that’s on my crime board.” She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “It’s right there in front of me, but I can’t see it, and it’s frustrating as heck.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. Thanks to your quick thinking in keeping him talking to get a confession, we can combine that with the lab results we have and then there’s more than enough evidence for a couple of convictions.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No yeah buts. You’re not a cop. If there’s anything else, we’ll find it. That’s our job, not yours.” He snapped his notebook closed and pulled out his cell phone. “I’d better let my friend at the FBI know what happened and have him send an agent to pick up Crystal when she lands in the Cayman Islands.”
She stood up and looked down at him, amazed by his thumb dexterity across the small keypad. Was this the same guy who feigned ignorance over doing an Internet search?
“My friend told me to thank you.” He glanced at her. His lips curved up into a smile. She liked the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her. She grinned and pressed the elevator button.
Chapter 34
Addie absently toyed with strands of tinsel on the tree in her window display. Her gaze focused past it on the fluffy snowflakes that covered the grimy, snow-rutted streets, transforming them once again into an unblemished winter wonderland. It was a picture-perf
ect Christmas Eve.
“Addie?” Paige tapped her on the shoulder. Her blue eyes creased at the corners, revealing the hint of a twinkle.
“What’s up?” Addie’s eyes narrowed. “What are you hiding behind your back?” She craned her neck to sneak a peek.
Paige giggled and swerved, blocking her view. “Nothing.” But the flush in her cheeks belied the word. “It’s just that you said I could leave a bit early today, and Mom’s out back in her car with Emma, so I was wondering, if—”
“Of course.” Addie smiled. “I’ll be closing soon and heading out myself.”
Paige smiled and pulled a bakery box from behind her back. “These are for you from Mom.”
“Really?” Addie took the box from her hands and peered through the cello window on the top. A chuckle formed low in her belly.
Paige’s head tilted to the side. “I don’t get the joke, but she said you might need a few of these over the holidays, and then she giggled.”
“Your mother is a very wise and thoughtful woman.” Addie clasped Paige’s hand. “Please thank her for me. This box of gingerbread men means more to me than she’ll ever know. She may have just saved my sanity through the holidays.”
“Okay?” Paige eyed Addie curiously. “I’ll tell her.”
Addie retrieved a bulky envelope and a brightly wrapped package from under the counter and held them out to Paige. “This is for you. It’s your well-deserved Christmas bonus.” She handed her the envelope. “And this is for Emma. It’s the primary-level copy of A Christmas Carol that I told you to take for her.”
Paige chuckled. “With the laughy-snorty thing happening that day, I’d forgotten all about it. Thank you. I know Emma will love it.” She peeked inside the envelope and gasped. “No, this is way too much.”
“Nonsense. You earned every penny.” Addie smiled.
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