Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7)

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Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7) Page 16

by Teresa Watson


  “I’m not sure yet. Perhaps a face to face meeting is in order.”

  “Is there anything you want me to do?”

  “At the moment, no, Kassandra.”

  “One more thing: they did talk to Ruthdale.”

  “Lord, not her again.”

  “She did tell them that Ethan had an alibi the night Jessica died.”

  Edward threw his pen down. “That’s a complication I don’t need.”

  “Do you think they will talk to Chief McDonald about it?”

  “Knowing Jake, I would not be surprised, although right now, I imagine he’s trying to wrap his head around the fact that this alibi means Ethan didn’t kill that girl.”

  “Things are unraveling a bit, don’t you think, Edward?” Kass replied.

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, my dear. I’ll take care of things.”

  “You aren’t going to…” she couldn’t bring herself to say what she was thinking.

  “I’m not going to what? Kill them? Only if I have to…”

  Chapter 20

  After the discoveries at lunch, the rest of the afternoon was rather uneventful. We drove out to the cemetery, where Jake placed some red roses on Jessica’s grave. “Do you believe what Mrs. Simpkins told us?” I asked him as we stood there.

  “About Ethan being with her the night Jessica was killed? Yes, I believe her. She’s not a liar.”

  “I wonder if she told the police about his alibi.”

  “I don’t think it would have mattered.”

  “If it wasn’t Ethan, then who?”

  Jake stared at the headstone for a minute, then turned around and started toward the SUV. “There’s only one person I can think of that would be callous enough to do it. But I can’t believe he would stoop that low to protect Ethan,” he said, opening the passenger door for me.

  “Ethan’s father?”

  He closed the door, and got in on his side before answering me. “Yeah. Edward had big plans for Ethan, and he did whatever he had to in order to protect his son’s future.”

  “But murder, Jake?”

  “He wouldn’t have done it himself, Lizzie. But he might have hired someone to do it. But again, that’s just crazy. I don’t think he would do that.” He started the SUV, and drove down the small cemetery road. “He just wouldn’t.”

  “But we don’t know that for sure. Should we talk to the police about this?”

  “And say what? That we think one of the town’s biggest benefactors might have killed a girl to protect his son? We can’t go to them without proof. And after all these years, I don’t know where to start.”

  “Maybe T.J. could help.”

  Jake snorted. “I’m not about to go to your boyfriend and ask him to dig around in a closed case.”

  “It was just a thought.”

  He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I appreciate it, Lizzie, really I do. But we don’t have anything to go on, just some hearsay. No one is going to re-open a case without solid proof.”

  “Are we doing anything tonight?”

  Jake shook his head. “Just a quiet night at home. I’m sure we can find a hockey game to watch. Let’s make some soup and sandwiches for supper, and we can eat while we watch the game.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Oh, the best laid plans of mice and men…

  When I went to my room to change into some sweats, I found some packages on the bed, with a note from Jake’s mother. I noticed that you didn’t have the appropriate clothes for the cold temperatures, so I did a little shopping this morning. I hope you don’t mind. Patricia

  “Hey, Lizzie, there’s a pot of potato soup on the stove…what the heck is all this? Did Trixie send all this?”

  “Your mother,” I said, handing him the note.

  “Wow, she was busy this morning. It’s a good thing she did. It’s starting to snow.”

  “I thought I saw some flakes falling when I came in.”

  “It probably won’t be much, but we’re definitely in for the night. How about some grilled cheese sandwiches to go with the soup?”

  “Sounds good to me. Let me grab my phone.” I reached into my purse, but instead of my phone, I pulled out a small gold box with a red ribbon wrapped around it. “How did you slip this into my bag without me knowing it?”

  “I didn’t do it,” he said.

  “Well, it wasn’t in there when we went out this morning.”

  “Swear it wasn’t me.”

  I had an overwhelming desire to chunk it out the window. Instead, I pulled the ribbon and let it drop to the floor. I looked at Jake before I opened the box. There was a small, folded note on top: Just a little something to let you know I’m thinking of you. Ethan. There was a necklace with a gold, heart-shaped charm under the note. “What the heck is going on? How am I still getting things from a dead man?!”

  Jake took the box out of my hands, dropped it on the bed, and put his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t know, but I promise I will find out, okay? Trust me. I will find out,” he said, pulling me close to him.

  “This nightmare is never going to end.”

  “It will get better, but it will be something you’ll live with for the rest of your life. I wish I could make it all just disappear, but I can’t. And I could give you every cliché in the book, but it won’t help anything. You just have to take it one day at a time, Lizzie.” I didn’t say anything; I just let him hold me for a minute before he let me go. He picked up the box. “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable? I’m sure you’ve got those penguin pajama bottoms of yours around here somewhere. Put those on, and we’ll go downstairs to eat.”

  “What are you going to do with that?” I said, pointing at the box.

  “Find out where it came from, and who bought it.”

  “What then?”

  “Then I’m going to go knock their block off.”

  An hour later, full of grilled cheese and soup, we settled on the couch to watch the Chicago Blackhawks at the Dallas Stars. Right in the middle of a fight between Toews and one of the Benn brothers, Garth showed up with a man in a police uniform. “Sorry to interrupt you, but Chief McDonald was rather insistent that he talk to you.”

  “It’s fine, Garth,” Jake said, muting the TV as he stood up. “Greg, it’s been a while.”

  “Yes it has, Jake,” Greg replied as they shook hands.

  “This is a friend of mine, Lizzie Crenshaw.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand.

  “Have a seat,” Jake said as he sat back down on the couch. “What brings you out here on a night like this?”

  “Well, I understand you had a conversation with Ruthdale Simpkins earlier today.”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “May I ask what you talked about?”

  “General stuff,” Jake replied. “I was hoping she wouldn’t tell Lizzie any embarrassing stories about my high school years.”

  “Anything else?”

  “We might have talked about Ethan Winthrop. She was not aware that he was dead.”

  “I don’t think many people are,” Greg said. “Edward has kept a pretty tight lid on it.”

  “Why do you want to know all this?” I asked him.

  “I got a 911 call from a concerned citizen this afternoon. They went by to see Ruthdale, but she didn’t come to the door. When they looked in the window, they saw her facedown on the living room floor, not moving. EMS and a couple of officers responded to the call, but when they got inside, Mrs. Simpkins was beyond help.”

  “Oh dear Lord, that poor woman,” I said.

  “Did she have a heart attack?” Jake asked him.

  “Well, that’s up to the M.E. to determine, but I can honestly say if she suffered a heart attack, it was while someone was stabbing her to death.”

  I gasped, and Jake put his hand on my arm. “So how did you end up here?”

  “Annabeth mentioned that she had seen you talking to
Mrs. Simpkins earlier today. I wanted to follow up, see what you talked about, find out if it had anything to do with her death. You said you talked about Ethan Winthrop. Anything in particular you discussed?”

  Jake and I looked at each other. I shrugged. “Is this pertinent to the investigation?” Jake said.

  “Is there some reason why you don’t want to tell me?” Greg replied.

  “Well, there is a murder investigation going on back home,” he said. “Anything we might have learned could be important to that case.”

  “Are you asking questions about Ethan on behalf of local law enforcement there?”

  “We’re unofficially nosing around.”

  “I don’t appreciate people nosing around in any kind of investigation.”

  “Oh, would you two knock it off?” I said, shaking my head. “You’re acting like a couple of idiots.”

  “At least one of you is being level headed,” Greg remarked.

  “There’s no reason not to tell him, Jake. The worst he is going to do is tell us we’re idiots. What if he actually wants to hear what we think?”

  Jake threw his hands in the air. “Fine, do whatever you want,” he said, sitting back on the couch with his arms crossed.

  Greg looked at Jake, then at me. “I doubt I’ll say you’re idiots, Ms. Crenshaw, but anything that you tell me will be confidential.”

  “We were talking to Mrs. Simpkins about Ethan, and she mentioned that he was not a very nice person, even back in high school. A young woman was murdered when Ethan and Jake were in high school.”

  “Yes, I know about Jessica.”

  “He should,” Jake snorted. “He’s married to Jessica’s older sister.”

  “It’s a shame they were never able to prove that Ethan killed her,” Greg said. “Vicky always said she knew he did it.”

  “But he didn’t,” I said quickly.

  “Excuse me?” Greg replied.

  Jake cleared his throat. “The night Jessica was killed, Ethan was in Mrs. Simpkins’ class. It was part of an agreement she made with Edward in order to make sure Ethan graduated on time.”

  “Was she sure about this?”

  “She was positive,” I told him.

  “Wow,” Greg said quietly.

  “Yeah,” Jake said. “I felt the same way when she told us that.”

  “Does anyone else know about this?”

  “Kassandra Sherwood and Sage Kingsley,” Jake said. “We had lunch with them right after we talked to Mrs. Simpkins.”

  “I’ll talk to them tomorrow. What can you tell me about the investigation into Ethan’s murder?”

  Between the two of us, we told him what we knew, leaving out the part that concerned me. He asked for Owen’s contact information, which I gave him. “Are you going to re-open Jessica’s case, Greg?” Jake asked him.

  “I’ll pull out the file, see what it has to say. I’m not sure if they ever looked for any other suspects or not. Everyone was sure that it was Ethan. There just wasn’t any proof.”

  “Surely he provided them with his alibi?” I said.

  “Again, I don’t know,” Greg said. He looked at Jake. “Did you have an alibi for that night?”

  “I was in the hospital having my appendix out.”

  “That’s easy enough to prove, if you don’t mind giving me permission to look at your medical records.”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Just curious, but how can you be so sure about where you were?” Greg said.

  “Because I was supposed to be with Jessica that night, studying for a history test. My appendix burst that morning, and I was in the hospital. You don’t forget something like that, no matter how many years go by.”

  “You feel guilty,” Greg replied.

  “Yes, I do. I always will,” Jake told him.

  Greg looked at me. “What’s your stake in all this?”

  “Personal.”

  “This is a murder investigation, Ms. Crenshaw. Nothing is really personal.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “Now who’s being an idiot?”

  “Greg,” Jake said sharply.

  I pulled up the sleeve of my shirt and showed him the bruises. “This is my stake in all this, Chief McDonald. He assaulted me twice. And even though the man is dead, someone is still sending me flowers and gifts with notes signed with his name. Someone is still terrorizing me in his name. So I’d say I have a pretty big stake in this, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’d say it makes you a prime suspect, Ms. Crenshaw.”

  “Good thing I’ve been cleared, Chief, and I certainly have no reason to kill Mrs. Simpkins.”

  “Was anything stolen from her house?” Jake said.

  The chief shook his head. “Not a thing. This was personal.”

  “Do you think it’s because of what she told us? About Ethan having an alibi that night?” I asked him.

  “I’d say that’s a strong possibility.”

  “So who had the most to lose by Ethan’s alibi getting out?” Jake wondered.

  “Whoever killed Jessica,” Greg said.

  Garth came in again, this time holding a phone. “It’s a call for you,” he said, holding the phone out to Jake.

  “Who is it?”

  “Edward Winthrop.”

  He arched an eyebrow as he took the phone from Garth. He held one finger up to his lips, telling us to be quiet, and put the phone on speaker. “Good evening, Edward.”

  “Jake, I was wondering if you and Ms. Crenshaw would care to join me tomorrow at my cabin? I’m having a few people over for our annual winter get together. I know we’ve made other arrangements, but I’m sure Ms. Crenshaw would love to get a closer view of our lovely mountains. There will be plenty of food and people you know.”

  “I’m curious about something. Why are you suddenly inviting me to your little shindig? You’ve never asked me before.”

  “Good point. Very well, if you must know the truth, you and your friend were among the last few people to have seen my son before he died. I just want to talk to you, see what he was up to, make sure he was happy.”

  I resisted the urge to snort. “You could just ask me over the phone,” Jake pointed out.

  “Humor me,” Edward replied.

  Jake looked at me, and I shrugged. “Fine, we’ll be there tomorrow.”

  “Excellent. I can’t wait to see you, and you as well, Ms. Crenshaw.” He hung up chuckling.

  “He knew I was listening.”

  “Well, it’s pretty easy to tell when someone is on speaker phone, Lizzie.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “Just what do you hope to gain by going out there?” Greg asked.

  “A better question is what does Edward hope to gain by us coming out there?” Jake replied.

  Edward dialed a number and waited for someone to pick up the phone. “This is Winthrop.”

  “Yes, Mr. Winthrop,” a deep male voice answered.

  “I have a little job for you.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m having a meeting tomorrow. There are two people coming that I want to put the fear of God into.”

  “Before or after?”

  “Oh, definitely after. There’s some information I need from them first.”

  “I’ll be glad to help extract the information from them,” the man laughed.

  “I’m well aware of your capabilities.”

  “Might I suggest Highway 16?”

  “Actually, I’m having a meeting at my cabin.”

  “I think the highway would be much better. Just in case they aren’t very…forthcoming with the information you want.”

  Edward rubbed his chin. “I’ll have to change things again, but I think it can be done. Just make sure no one walks away.”

  “On that road? Piece of cake, Mr. Winthrop.”

  “Excellent. I’ll double your usual fee.”

  “This is a serious situation.”

  “No one kills
my son and gets away with it.”

  Chapter 21

  "Back of the what?" I said as Jake made another sharp turn.

  "Back of the Dragon," he laughed. "It's what the bikers call it."

  "I think it should be call 'Heart Attack Road'. This is insane!"

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Says the man who has probably driven this road a thousand times,” I groused.

  “Hardly,” he replied. “My parents wouldn’t let me drive this road that much, especially my mother. Her brother died on this road when they were kids.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to apologize for,” he assured me. “You didn’t know.”

  We were driving down Highway 16, which runs between Tazewell, where Jake grew up, and Marion. Edward had called this morning to say that he had some unexpected business he had to take care of, and suggested we join him in Marion for dinner instead of at his cabin. For his own perverse reasons, Jake had failed to mention that we would be driving this winding road, which was full of hairpin turns and curves. I hadn’t taken my hand off the door handle, mainly because he tried to drift around a few of the curves. Who did he think he was, professional rally cross driver Tanner Foust?

  “This isn’t the right type of vehicle to use for drifting, Jake,” I pointed out. “I don’t think your mother will be very happy with you if you wreck her SUV.”

  “I know what I’m doing.” But I also noticed he slowed down a little and put both hands on the steering wheel. I snickered. “What?”

  “Nothing.” I looked out the window at the bare trees. “I bet this is a beautiful drive when there are leaves on the trees.”

  “It is,” he assured me. “One of those drives you take on a lazy afternoon. In the fall, when the leaves are changing colors, it’s awesome. I’ll have to bring you back next fall.”

  “Maybe we can bring Trixie and T.J. with us. I’m sure they’d love to get out of Texas.” Jake grunted. I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled with that suggestion, so I decided to change the subject. “Will there be snow for Christmas?”

  “Not usually. We usually don’t get snow until after the first of the year.”

  “It feels cold enough for snow today.”

  “What do you know about snow? You’re from Texas,” Jake laughed. “I did watch the weather report this morning while you were getting ready. It’s going to be cold for the next couple of days. Normally, we get the same temperatures here that we do back home.”

 

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