Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7)

by Teresa Watson

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Gladys was in here yesterday, running her mouth about how Ethan died, and how many gunshot wounds he had.”

  “Did she happen to mention who told her?”

  “Maybellene.”

  Owen rolled his eyes. “Figures. That woman can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life. That explains how some of the news outlets knew about the cause of death. Well, she’s gone. I can’t have a blabbermouth in the station.”

  “Can’t you reassign her?” I said, regretting my decision to rat her out.

  “To where? No,” he shook his head, “she’s going to have to go.”

  “Does that mean what she told Gladys was right?” Jake said.

  “What did she say?”

  “That Ethan had been shot several times, in the front, back and sides.”

  “Eight times, to be exact.”

  “I don’t understand how one person could have inflicted all those wounds, Owen,” I said.

  “This is between us,” he said, leaning forward. He snagged a fry from Jake’s plate. “Doc Endicott thinks more than one person is involved because two different guns were used.”

  “You’re joking,” Jake said. He was wearing the same look on his face that I was: one of total disbelief. “I mean, you realize what you’re saying, don’t you?”

  “That more than one person was involved in his death? Yeah, I realize that, Jake. I’m not an idiot.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” He stopped talking while Maddie slid a plate with a burger and fries in front of him, along with a glass of sweet tea.

  After she left, Owen said, “This whole thing is turning into a royal pain in my butt.”

  “Getting some pressure to solve this in a hurry?” I said.

  Picking up his burger, he took a bite and nodded. “From two different states, here and Virginia. Someone is calling in some favors on this one.”

  “I imagine the pressure from Virginia is coming from his father,” Jake said.

  “I got a call from our governor’s office, informing me that the case would be taken away from me and given to the Texas Rangers if I don’t solve this in the next couple of days. This whole thing is giving me a bad case of heartburn.”

  “What does T.J. say?” I asked him.

  “I haven’t talked to him since this morning. He’s gone to the FBI office in Dallas to talk to Hopkins, and do a little digging around in Winthrop’s life.”

  “Owen, do you really think that more than one person killed him?” Jake said.

  He took another bite of his burger and chewed it before replying. “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth.”

  “What does your gut say?” I said.

  Scratching his chin, he said, “We’re looking at two possible scenarios here. One: he was killed by one person, who used two different guns to make it look like more than one person; or two: we’re looking at several people who deliberately used different guns to confuse us and make it harder to solve his murder.”

  “And at this point, you have absolutely no idea which scenario is the right one.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Hey, Lizzie, we’ve got to get going,” Jake said suddenly, making a big show of checking the time on his phone. “We’re going to be late for that big staff meeting at the paper if we don’t hurry.”

  “What?” I said, totally confused. He gave me a look and jerked his head at the door. “I totally forgot about that. Dang, I’m sorry, Owen. I wish we could stay and talk to you more about this. Let me know if there’s anything we can do to help you.”

  Owen stood up and moved the chair out of our way so we could get out of the booth. “Yeah, you’ll be the first ones I call,” he said sarcastically.

  Jake left some money on the table to cover all three meals, and hustled me out. “Why are you in such a hurry for?” I said.

  “Because we’re going to go see Trixie.”

  “What for?”

  “You’re going to talk to her while I make some phone calls.”

  “Okay,” I replied, still totally confused.

  He held the door of the Porsche open for me. “Just trust me, okay? I need to check on a couple of things before we make our next move.”

  Since Brookdale was a small town, it didn’t take long to get to the Gentlemen’s Club. Trixie’s car was sitting by the back entrance, and Jake parked next to it. “Go inside and see Trixie. I’ll be in as soon as I finish making my calls,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his jacket.

  “Whatever,” I muttered as I got out of the car.

  There were four cars in the parking lot, which probably belonged to the poker guys. They’re a group of six men who came to the club once a week, and spent several hours in one of the side rooms playing poker and smoking cigars. The group actually has more than six members, but only six were allowed to be there at one time.

  When I walked in, I waited a minute for my eyes to adjust to the softer lighting before walking further into the club. “Good to see you, Lizzie,” a female voice called out from behind the bar. As I got closer, I noticed it was Abby Sinclair. “Want a Dr Pepper?” she asked.

  “Um, sure, thanks. What are you doing here? I thought you were working for Owen.”

  “I still am,” she replied. “I’m just helping out Trixie for a little while. She’s lost a couple of bartenders, and I have some experience doing this, so here I am. Besides, the extra cash will be nice, especially with the holidays coming up.” She placed a royal blue cocktail napkin in front of me and placed a glass on the napkin. “Are you here to see Trixie?”

  I nodded. “Is she busy?”

  “She’s on the phone chewing out the contractor. He was supposed to be here this morning to finish work on the bathrooms, but he didn’t show up. Go on back.”

  Picking up my glass and napkin, I walked to the end of the bar, turned right, and went through the open door. I could hear her shouting all the way down the hall, and when I stopped in the doorway of her office, she was waving one hand in the air. “I don’t care about your excuses, Ken. You’re are contractually obligated to finish this job, and you’re going to do it. Now you’d better be here first thing in the morning to finish those bathrooms, or I’m going to court to file a lawsuit. By the time I’m done with you, I will own your business, your house AND your car.” She paused and listened for a minute. “That sounds great, Ken. I will see you at 8 a.m. Have a nice day.” She slammed the receiver down on its base, and ran her fingers through her hair. Finally, she noticed me standing in the doorway. “Hey, girl!” she said, coming around her desk to give me a hug. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough to know that contractor is totally screwed if he doesn’t show up in the morning,” I laughed.

  “Ugh, men,” she said, shaking her head. “He was supposed to be here at eight, so I got up early to meet him here, even though I closed last night. He never showed up. No call, no text, nothing. I wanted to ring his neck. It’s the third time he’s done this to me during this job.”

  “God help him if he doesn’t show up in the morning.”

  “Not even God is going to be able to save him,” she replied. “So, what brings you here? Everything okay?” She led me over to the maroon leather couch and we sat down.

  “Beats me. Jake drove us over here, and told me to come inside while he made a couple of calls.”

  “Weird. How are you doing?”

  “Fine.”

  Trixie tilted her head to the left with this “why don’t I believe you” look on her face. “This is me you’re talking to, Lizzie. Whenever you say ‘fine’ like that, you’re covering up something. Spill it.”

  I took a drink before answering. “Just dealing with different emotions. Your brother just bluntly told me I was a victim, so in a way, I guess that makes me a suspect in Ethan’s murder. Revenge and all that. Good thing I have an alibi.”

  “Even if you didn’t, Owen knows you’d never kill anyone
. But I do have to agree with him. You are a victim, Lizzie, even if you don’t want to admit that to yourself. What he did to you is sexual harassment and assault. It’s not something that you can just shake off and go on with life. What happened to you is going to affect your life for a long time. The way you handle it is the key to surviving.”

  “You sound like you’ve been through this yourself.”

  “I have,” she replied.

  “You never told me.”

  She shrugged. “It was when I was in college. One of my professors. Owen drove up to get me, and had a chat with the professor. He threatened to rip the professor’s arm off and shove it where the sun don’t shine if he ever laid a finger on another student. I came home and hid in my room for two weeks. My mother came to my room, and wanted to know if I was going to quit school and become a professional victim the rest of my life. She was being melodramatic, of course, but she was trying to get my attention. I started going to a counselor and participated in a few group sessions, and after three months, I felt comfortable about going back to school. That doesn’t mean I didn’t freak out at the drop of a hat for months afterwards. But going back to school was the best way to take control of my life back, to show everyone that I wasn’t going to let this define who I was. It made me stronger.”

  I took another drink of my Dr Pepper. I’ve never been the type of person who talked to others about what I was feeling, especially when something bad had happened. Going to a counselor would mean that I had to admit that a situation had got to the point where I had no control over what happened, and no one likes to admit that. It was a weakness…it made me vulnerable. And a few months of dealing with a crazy serial killer half-aunt had made me realize that was not a good position to be in. “I’m fine.”

  “Ha!” Jake said. We turned to find him leaning against the doorway. “You are not fine.”

  “Jake,” I said, “not now.”

  “If you can’t talk to your friends, then go talk to a professional,” he said, crossing the room and kneeling in front of me. “Until you do, Lizzie, you are never going to get past this, and you won’t be able to go back to work without freaking out.”

  “Did you learn anything useful from your phone calls?” I said, changing the subject.

  “Stop changing the subject,” he said angrily. “Denial is one thing, burying your head in the sand is another. Going to the support group doesn’t mean you have to talk. If you want, I’ll go with you.”

  “Me, too,” Trixie said.

  “Just listen to what they have to say. It doesn’t hurt to listen, does it?”

  I shook my head. I felt the tears starting, and I wiped my eyes. “Your phone calls? Did you learn anything?”

  Jake sighed and stood up. “Yeah, I did. But there are a few people we need to talk to.”

  I stood up. “Great. Who do we talk to first?”

  “Virginia.”

  “Who’s Virginia? Ethan’s secretary?” Trixie said.

  “As in the state of Virginia,” Jake replied, taking my glass out of my hand and giving it to Trixie. “We’re leaving in two hours, so let’s go. You need to get packed.”

  “I can’t just pack up and drive to Virginia!” I stammered. “I’ve got work to do at the paper. We’ve got the Thanksgiving edition to start putting together…”

  “…and Ellen is going to take care of that for you while we’re gone,” Jake said, leading me to the door. “Do you have some nice dresses or outfits in your closet? We’re going to have dinner with Edward tomorrow night.”

  “Hold it,” I said, taking a step backwards. “Who’s Edward?”

  “Ethan’s father.”

  Chapter 17

  Trixie drove me back to my house while Jake went home to pack. “You have got to get some new clothes, woman,” she said as she pawed through my closet. “Do you even wear half of this stuff in here anymore?” I gave her a muffled reply. “What did you say?” She gasped when she saw me pull a bundle of money from between my mattress. “Oh my God, where did you get that money? You didn’t rob a bank or anything, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t rob a bank or anything,” I snapped. “This is just a teeny tiny portion of my inheritance from Debra.”

  “She left you money? How much?” I told her the ballpark figure, give or a take a few numbers. “Are you serious?” she gasped. “Lizzie…you’re rich!”

  “Don’t remind me,” I grunted as I got up from my kneeling position. I winced as I put too much pressure on my sore wrist. I grabbed it and held it for a minute.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, Lizzie,” Trixie said. “When you told me, I wanted to cry.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Because I wasn’t here for you to lean on.”

  “I think I’ve done more than enough of that the last few months, don’t you?”

  “You’re the closest thing to a sister I’ve got,” she said, placing her hand on top of mine. “If you hurt, I hurt. If you need help burying the bodies, I grab my shovel and dig the hole with you.”

  I laughed and gave her a hug. “I feel the same way. Right now, though, I’d better get packed or Jake is going to start lecturing me about how women are never ready on time.”

  Three hours later, we were at a small airport, watching a Learjet rolling down the runway. “We’re going to Virginia in that?” I gasped as it came to a stop.

  “Did you really think we were going to drive?” Jake asked as he got our bags out of the trunk of Trixie’s car.

  “Wow, that is a beauty,” Trixie said. “I’d love to take that on a long trip someday.”

  “Play your cards right, kid, and I’ll see what I can do,” Jake replied.

  “Sweet!”

  “We’re not even supposed to leave town,” I reminded him. “Owen was very specific about that.”

  “I’ve already talked to him. We’re good.”

  The door on the jet opened, and a man hurried down the steps and made his way over to us. “Mr. Mathias, good to see you again,” he said.

  “It’s been a while, Garth,” Jake said. “How are Liam and Melinda doing?”

  Garth smiled. “They’re good. Liam just made the basketball team, and Melinda is off to Washington D.C. for a medical conference for future doctors. She’s even managed to take a couple of college classes along with all of her regular studies. She’s a smart one. Must get it from her mother.”

  “Wow, that is fantastic news! Congratulations,” he said, shaking Garth’s hand. “This is Lizzie Crenshaw. She’ll be flying with us today. And this is Trixie Greene, a very close friend.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, ladies,” Garth replied, giving them a half bow. “I’ll put the luggage on board. We should be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes, sir, as soon as refueling is complete.” He picked up the bags and walked back to the plane.

  “I’m not sure when we’ll be back, Trixie,” Jake said, “maybe two or three days. I’ll call you as soon as I know for sure.”

  Trixie gave me a hug. “Have a safe trip, and be careful.” She hugged Jake. “And you behave yourself.”

  “Who, me? I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

  I snorted. “That’ll be the day.”

  “Come on, let’s get onboard and get settled before takeoff.”

  I followed Jake up the steps, ducking my head as I stepped inside. When I straightened up, I gasped. “Wow.”

  The floor was covered in a medium grey carpet. There were four seats in the front area, with a table between them. Further back, a long couch was on the left side of the plane, and across the aisle two light grey leather chairs faced each other, with a table between them. In the back, there was what looked like a small galley area and a door that I assumed led to a bathroom.

  Jake sat down in one of the chairs across from the couch. “This is one of Dad’s new toys,” he said as I sat down on the couch. “He uses it for long trips, especially from one coast to the other. The couch
is quite comfortable for sleeping, or so I’ve been told.”

  “You’re quite correct, sir,” Garth said.

  “How long will it take to get to Virginia?” I asked Garth.

  “Normally, it would take about four hours. But I’ve just been informed that there’s a front moving down from Canada, and it’s near the route we would normally take. So the pilot is going to go further south, and then swing north. So, closer to six hours this time. But it will fly by, I assure you.” He moved past us toward the galley.

  “Are you sure you should be flying?” I said.

  “I’ll take something for the pain once we take off,” Jake said.

  “Folks, buckle up,” the pilot said over the intercom. “We’re all fueled up and cleared for takeoff.”

  Garth sat down in the seat across from Jake, and we put our seatbelts on. I looked out the window and watched as the Learjet gained speed and then lifted off the ground. Jake got an amused look on his face as he watched me. “You’ve never been on a plane before, have you?”

  “Just once, and I had an aisle seat. But this feels different than the last time. Faster.”

  “Smaller plane, not as much to get off the ground, I guess,” Jake replied.

  “Ok, folks, you can move around now if you want,” the pilot said over the intercom. “We’re going to fly toward Houston, then swing east. We’ll stay on that heading until we hit the coast, then we’ll turn north.”

  Garth unfastened his seatbelt and stood up. “May I get you two anything to drink?”

  “Some water for me, and a Dr Pepper for Lizzie, please, Garth.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I took off my seatbelt, stood up and stretched for a minute, before I sat back down. Leaning back, I sighed. “What’s wrong?” Jake said. He took off his seatbelt and moved across the aisle to sit next to me.

  “Nothing. Just tired.”

  Garth handed us our drinks. “May I get you anything else?”

  “This is all I need, Garth, thank you,” I smiled.

  “I’m good for now,” Jake assured him.

  “Then if you don’t mind, I’m going to go up front and chat with the pilots. They’ve been teaching me about the instruments and all the gadgets they have.”