McDonald shook his head. “He said no.”
“Any idea who the dead man is?”
“Yeah,” McDonald said, scratching his chin, “we know who he is. His name’s Dave Becker. He’s not from around here. His license says Richmond.”
“Richmond? What’s he doing here?” Owen said.
“Yeah, well…that’s where things get a little complicated. The guy has a rap sheet a mile long, although he’s never been convicted of anything.”
“He had friends in high places,” T.J. said.
“Any idea who killed him?” I asked McDonald.
He shook his head. “Too early in the investigation. I left my guys waiting for the crime scene techs. I wanted you to hear the news from me.”
“Why?”
“There was some damage on the front of the truck. It looked like it had been in an accident.”
“You think he’s the one who ran us off the road?”
“I think it’s possible. I’ll have the techs check it out to be sure.”
“We need to go inside,” Garth interrupted. “One of my guys found something on our security tape I think you’re going to want to see.”
He led us to a room near the kitchen. Inside, there were several TV screens that showed various locations of the Mathias property. “Rod, do you have that tape ready for us to see?”
“Yes, sir,” he replied. He punched a few buttons on his keyboard, and he pointed to a screen to his left. We saw Edward Winthrop come through the trees, walk up to a planter on the back patio, drop something inside, and run off.
After watching it two more times, we went out to the kitchen. “Have any of your guys gone out there to check the planter?” McDonald asked Garth.
He shook his head. “I told them not to do anything until you and I got here.” Opening a drawer to his right, he pulled out some latex gloves and a freezer bag. “We probably need these.”
A couple of minutes later, we were standing outside by the planter. McDonald, Owen and Garth both had on gloves; Garth held the freezer bag. “Owen, why don’t you pull the plant up?” he suggested.
Owen lifted the plant, and we all looked down to the bottom of the planter. “There it is.”
McDonald reached down and pulled out the gun by the barrel with two fingers. “Small but deadly,” he commented as he put it in the bag.
“Do you think this gun was used to kill that man?” I asked McDonald.
“Judging by the size of the wounds, I’d say yeah.”
“Then there’s a good chance that Edward killed Becker,” T.J. said as Owen put the plant down.
“He’s not known for doing his own dirty work,” McDonald said.
“Looks like he made an exception in this case,” T.J. replied.
“He probably called Becker as soon as he left here,” I mused, “killed him, then drove back here to plant the gun. But how did he get up here?”
“There’s a dirt road about a half-mile back that way,” Garth said, pointing to his left where the trees were. “He had to have parked out there, since we saw him come through the trees right there.”
“I can get my guys to take some tire track molds so we can compare them to his car,” McDonald said, taking out his phone. It rang before he could make his call. “McDonald. Uh huh…yeah…really? Anything else? Do you know who it was that called? Interesting, very interesting. Tell him we appreciate him calling, and I’ll be in touch with him soon. Thanks, Gertrude.” He turned to look at us. “A concerned citizen called to say that they saw someone who looked like Patricia Mathias sitting in a truck with Dave Becker. He saw a couple of flashes, and then she jumped out of the truck, got in her car and drove away. He carefully followed her back here, where he trailed her through the trees and saw her put a gun in a planter on the back patio.”
“Did this concerned citizen leave a name?” T.J. said.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “but I’ll bet money it’s Edward Winthrop.”
“What does he hope to gain by framing Patricia?” I said.
“Mind if I take a look at the gun?” Garth asked McDonald. “I still have my gloves on.” McDonald nodded, and Garth opened the bag. Taking the gun out, he looked at it closely. “The serial number has been filed off. It’s probably been wiped clean, too.”
“I can’t picture Patricia carrying or even owning a gun,” I said.
“Oh, Mrs. Mathias knows how to shoot,” Garth replied, putting the gun back in the bag and sealing it shut. “She’s actually quite proficient with a Glock.”
“Do they own a .22?” McDonald said.
“No.”
McDonald took the freezer bag from Garth. “I need to get back to the crime scene. The tech boys will be thrilled to get a hold of the murder weapon, but I have to agree with Garth: I don’t think we’ll get anything from it beyond a ballistics match.”
We shook hands with him. “Thank you for everything you’ve done to help,” I told him. “I’m sorry about the trouble.”
“Ms. Crenshaw, you are one very brave woman,” McDonald said. “Not many women could have gone through what you have, and come out on the other side with her head held high.”
“I’m not as brave as you think I am, Sheriff. On the inside, I’m a quivering bowl of gelatin.”
“You’d never know it to look or talk to you. I’ll keep in touch with Sheriff Greene, and I’ll let him know if we find anything here.”
We watched him drive away. “The jet is fueled and ready to go,” Garth said.
I looked at T.J. and Owen. “What do you say, guys? Ready to go home?”
“Are you?” T.J. replied.
Glancing around at the grounds, then back at the house, I nodded. “I’m ready for the simple things in life again.”
“Are you sure you can fly with your injuries?” Owen said.
“I took the liberty of talking to the doctor who treated Ms. Crenshaw the other night. He believes she should be just fine for flying. Considering what you’ve been through in the last three days, my guess is you’ll sleep the whole way home.”
“Then let’s go.”
It took a half an hour to get our things together, and thirty minutes later, we were standing in the hanger, watching our things being loaded onto the jet. Garth came over to us. “Micha said to tell you goodbye. She’s busy trying to find more information out about the two women who moved to Dallas, especially Barbara Stephenson.”
“I find it unbelieveable that Barbara would be involved with Ethan after what he did to her in high school,” I said. “After what he did to me, I didn’t want to be anywhere near him.”
“Maybe he didn’t recognize Barbara,” T.J. said.
“What do you mean?”
“Garth said that she went by Marie Stevens in high school. We don’t have any idea what she looked like back then. Maybe she changed her looks.”
“And then what? Stalked Ethan until she could get catch his attention? The woman Jake and I met doesn’t seem smart enough to find her car keys without a GPS.”
“I’ll go over anything Micha finds with Jake. If we think it’s something you should know, we’ll call.”
T.J. and Owen shook hands with Garth and headed for the jet. “Garth, I really appreciate everything, and I mean everything, that you’ve done for me. You’re a very kind, understanding man.” I started to shake his hand, but quickly gave him a hug instead.
“Stay strong, Ms. Crenshaw, and don’t be afraid to lean on those who care about you,” he said. “Your young man cares about you a great deal, I can tell. He’ll help you through this.”
“I…” I looked over my shoulder at T.J., who was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. “Take care of Jake, and don’t let him do anything stupid.”
“I’ll do my best, but you know what he’s like when he puts his mind to something. I put a couple of things for you in a box on the jet. And here,” he said, handing me a small black box, “is a phone. It’s for emergencies only.”
&nb
sp; “A direct line to the Garth cave?” I laughed.
He smiled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. My number as well as Micha’s number is listed in the directory. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Come on, Lizzie!” T.J. said.
I gave Garth another hug and hurried over to the jet. When I turned to wave to Garth, he was gone. Shaking my head, I climbed inside the jet and sat down. One day, I was really going to have to find out more about him.
An hour later, Garth walked into Jake’s hospital room. “Are they gone?”
Garth nodded. “About an hour.”
“Did you give her the phone?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think she’ll use it?”
“It’s hard to say, Jake. I get the feeling she’s not the type of person who likes to ask for help, very much like someone else I know.” Jake looked out the window and didn’t reply. “Micha found an old yearbook with a picture of Marie Stevens. I thought you might want to take a look at it.”
“I thought she said there weren’t any pictures of her?” Jake said, taking the yearbook from him.
“Micha decided to go down to the high school and look for herself. She found a couple of pictures of her in the drama club section.”
Jake flipped it open to the bookmark. His eyes widened when he found Marie’s picture. “Oh my God, this can’t be right,” he said as he looked at a picture of a girl with stringy brown hair, big glasses, and braces.
“What?”
“I know who Marie is.”
“According to the yearbook, her full name is Barbara Marie Stevens.”
“I can see that, but that’s not what I mean.”
“What then?”
“She was a freshman when I was a junior. I saw her every time I went over to the house, but I only said hello to her. She was just there, in the background, not really registering in my mind.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The woman who introduced herself to me as Barbara is Jessica’s half-sister.”
Chapter 30
Kassandra Sherwood scrolled through her contact list and pushed a button. “Good evening, how are you?”
“Getting ready to go out,” a woman replied. “What do you want?”
“I just thought I would let you know that they’re on their way back to Texas.”
“Who is ‘they’”?
“Ethan’s last failed conquest, her boyfriend and a cop.”
“Oh, her,” the woman said dismissively.
“She’s not as stupid as you think she is,” Kassandra warned. “I don’t think you should underestimate her.”
“Do they know who I am?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no.”
“Then I have nothing to worry about, do I? How are things going with Edward?”
“Well, Jake and his little friend have Edward really rattled.”
“That’s great!”
“Well,” Kassandra replied, “I’m not sure about that. He’s made a couple of mistakes.”
“What kind of mistakes?”
“He had Mrs. Simpkins killed, and then he tried to get his man to kill Jake and the woman.”
“Let him hang himself. We don’t need him.”
“But what about our plan?”
“The plan was to get rid of Ethan and Edward. Ethan’s gone. If Edward goes rogue and gets himself arrested, then our worries are over, and we can get on with our lives.”
“No!” Kassandra said. “I want to see the look on Edward’s face when he realizes what we’ve done. I want to see him suffer.”
“If he gets arrested for attempted murder, Kass, then he’ll go to jail,” the woman replied. “Jessica will get justice.”
“It won’t be enough.”
“It will never be enough, but it will have to do. Besides, once he gets out of prison, we can finish what we started then, if he doesn’t get killed by another prisoner first.”
“What about Jake and Lizzie?”
“I’ll deal with Jake when he gets back here.”
“He’s not going back to Texas yet.”
“I thought you said he was on his way here?”
“No, she’s with her boyfriend, who is also a cop, by the way. She and Jake haven’t dated since college.”
“Then if it comes to it, you’ll have to deal with Jake, but he is the least of our concerns. For now, continue to keep an eye on Edward.”
“I hope I don’t have to do this much longer,” Kassandra sighed. “I’m getting sick of his ‘no one is more important than me’ attitude. I continually have to resist the urge to beat him with a hammer.”
“Hm,” the woman said thoughtfully, “that’s a wonderful image. Be sure to give him an extra whack for me if you decide to go through with it.”
“Gladly.”
“Let’s see what happens for the next few days. We can always excelerate our plans if need be.”
“And if he doesn’t react like you think he will?”
“Then I’ll go back there and kill him myself.”
We landed back in Texas around 10 p.m. I didn’t sleep the whole way home, just an hour or so. Too many questions were running through my mind, and there weren’t a lot of answers, which was very frustrating.
I called my mother as soon as I got off the jet, and arranged to meet her for breakfast the next morning at the café. Trixie was waiting for us at the airport, and she gently hugged me when she saw me. “You look like crap,” she said.
“Gee, just think what I’ll look like under the lights,” I joked.
“Where’s Jake?”
“Still in the hospital,” Owen told her as he and T.J. grabbed our bags. “But don’t feel too bad for him; he’s being well taken care of by the nurses.”
Trixie rolled her eyes and shook her head. She hooked her arm through mine as we followed the guys through the terminal. “How are you doing, really?” she said quietly.
“Like I want to hide in my house and never come out,” I told her. “Trying not to cry at the drop of a hat, or jumping at every sudden sound.”
“Oh sweetie, I am so sorry. What can I do to help?”
I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve been surrounded by people for the last few days. Half of me wants to spend some time alone, while the other half of me is terrified at the thought.”
“You really should talk to somebody.”
“I talked to Jake the other night.”
Trixie glanced at T.J., who was loading my bags into his truck. “Does he know that?”
“Of course not.”
“I meant that you need to talk to a professional, not your ex-boyfriend.”
“I’ll think about it. Right now, I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed.”
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Trixie gave me a hug. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Not too early. Say, around noon?” I laughed.
Owen rode home with Trixie, which allowed T.J. and I to have some private time. “What were you two talking about?” he asked me.
“Nothing important,” I said as I checked my text messages. “Jake sent us some information.”
“We just saw him a few hours ago, not to mention he’s in the hospital. What could he have possibly found out?”
“It seems that Barbara Stephenson, the woman Ethan was dating when he died, was Jessica’s half-sister.”
“Whoa.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“Revenge is a good motive for murder.”
“I think we need to go talk to her again.”
“What’s with this ‘we’ bit?” T.J. said. “You’re not going with me. This is part of an official police investigation.”
“But she knows me,” I pointed out.
“You talked to her one time. She probably doesn’t remember you.”
“She’ll be more willin
g to talk to a reporter than to a cop.”
“Sounds like she’d rather talk to a man than a woman,” he replied. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to sit this one out.”
“Pull over.”
“What?”
“I said pull over!”
T.J. got off at the next exit, and pulled into the nearest parking lot. “What’s wrong?”
“I have had it up to here with people telling me what I can and cannot do. Yes, I’m going through a rough patch right now. I’ve been assaulted and nearly raped twice by an egostical schmuck. My emotions are all over the place right now. Half of the time I want to cry, the other half I want to pretend like this never happened and just live my life. You all are treating me like I’m some china doll that will fall into a thousand pieces if you sneeze. Well, I won’t. I have no intention of allowing what has happened to take over and control my life. That means you have to let me do my job, which means talking to a woman who was close to the victim. I’m a reporter; that’s my job. You can make this easier, and let me go with you, or you can just get out of my way and let me go alone. But either way, I AM going to talk to her. And you, and everyone else, are going to stop tiptoeing around me. You’re going to help me get through this, because it’s what friends do. If I want to talk to someone, be it a professional or a friend, then I will. But I will do it when I am damn well good and ready to do it, and not on your timetable. Is that clear?”
He didn’t say a word. He just looked at me for a minute, put the truck in gear, got back on the access road and merged onto the interstate.
“You aren’t going to say anything?”
“What time do you want to go talk to Barbara Stephenson tomorrow?”
Chapter 31
T.J. wanted to sleep on the couch, but I just gave him a look. He got the message, kissed me good night, and left. Babe and Mittens were at Trixie’s house; I’d have her bring them over the next night.
After taking a shower, I sat down on the couch and grabbed the stack of mail that was on the coffee table. Between letters from insurance companies telling me I’m paying too much, and five credit card offers, my phone rang. “Joe’s morgue. You stab ‘em, we slab ‘em. Where’s the body?”
Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7) Page 23