Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7)

by Teresa Watson

  I leaned in closer to him. “If you think for one minute that I believe this was your only option, you are sadly mistaken and clearly delusional. I won’t forget this.”

  He started to say something, but the look on my face clearly told him it was wiser to leave, which he did.

  “Being a bit harsh on Agent Hopkins, aren’t you?” Ethan said as I closed the door and reset the alarm.

  “Nobody asked you.”

  He looked around the living room. “Nice little place you have here,” he said. “Not something I would expect for someone worth millions of dollars.”

  “Not all of us like to live ostentatiously.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Doing so has certainly helped get me plenty of dates.”

  “You mean like Gabrielle, Penelope, or Valentina?”

  “Among others,” he smiled.

  “T.J., would you mind getting the board out of my office?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Oh, I think it’s a fantastic idea.”

  He shook his head again. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

  “What’s this board you’re talking about?” Ethan said.

  “You’ll find out in a minute.”

  T.J. came in with the corkboard. “Where do you want it?”

  “Just lean it against the entertainment center. Garth, would you mind getting a chair out of the kitchen?”

  He went and got one. “Where do you want it?”

  “In front of the coffee table is fine. Ethan, move over to that chair, please.”

  “Why? I’m perfectly comfortable in this recliner.”

  “Humor me.”

  “Anything for you,” he replied, getting up and moving over to the chair.

  “T.J. and I found some information on a flash drive that I think you will be very interested in,” I began. “Before you is a list of every place you have lived the past five to six years, every place you’ve eaten, every girl you’ve dated, every person you’ve ever had a meeting with.”

  “That’s ridiculous. There’s no way you could know that.”

  “Oh really?” I pointed to one pile of papers. “When you lived in London, you took Penelope Dixon to Wimbledon. You even enjoyed strawberries and cream with champagne.” I pointed to another pile. “You had a very romantic evening with Gabrielle Delacroix, followed by a stroll down the Champs Elysees. Do you want me to keep going?”

  “Do you mean to tell me that someone has been following me around, watching my every move for six years?”

  “Oh, it gets even better,” I replied. I took the pictures down and handed them to Ethan. “Do you notice anything about these women?”

  He looked at each one. “Besides the fact that I have excellent taste in women?”

  I snatched the pictures back from him. “Actually, you have excellent taste in one woman.”

  “What?”

  “These are all the same woman, using excellent make up jobs and wigs.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No joke.”

  “So who is it?”

  “Do you remember Jessica Mangrove’s half-sister?”

  “You mean Marie? Skinny kid, braces, ugly as all get out?”

  “Obviously you don’t think so anymore. You’ve been dating her in various places of the world.”

  “That’s insane,” he said, a stunned look on his face. “Why would she do this?”

  “Because she believes you killed Jessica.”

  “But I didn’t.”

  “Well, before last week, there were only two people who knew that: Ruthdale Simpkins and your father.”

  “And Mrs. Simpkins is dead.”

  “Which just leaves your father.”

  “Good Lord.”

  “Ethan, does your father have any idea that you are helping the Feds with their case against him?” T.J. asked.

  “Before tonight, I would have said no. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “Well, this is how I see it. On one side, you’ve got Marie, aka your current girlfriend Barbara, and on the other side, you’ve got your father. Now, from where I’m sitting, you’re screwed.”

  “My father wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

  “Considering all the trouble you’ve given him, the money you’ve cost him, and the fact that you’re going to be testifying against him, I’m surprised you’re still alive.”

  Ethan stared at the corkboard, then at the papers in his hand. “I can’t believe it.”

  “How does it feel, Ethan?” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The hunter has become the hunted. How does it feel?”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Honestly? I thought I would, but I don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’ve dragged me into the middle of your little nightmare, and I would prefer not to get caught in the crossfire when the bullets start to fly.”

  Chapter 38

  I wish I could say that I slept like a baby the rest of the night, but I didn’t. Having Ethan in such close proximity left me feeling very nervous. I tossed and turned until seven before I finally got up.

  “Do you always sleep like that?” T.J. said.

  “What the heck?” I said, shocked to find him in a chair by the bedroom door. “What are you doing in here?”

  “Making sure that you didn’t have unexpected company during the night.”

  “You thought he’d get past Garth?”

  “Not really,” he yawned.

  “I thought you were supposed to work this morning.”

  “We got someone to cover my shift. Owen wants to make sure that Ethan leaves today.”

  “That’s nice of him,” I said as I got up. “He is leaving, right?”

  “Hopkins says so.”

  “Hopkins has been wrong before,” I pointed out as I laid some clothes out on the bed.

  “That’s true.”

  “I’m not sure if there’s much to eat in the kitchen, beyond the leftovers from last night. I haven’t had a chance to go to the store yet.”

  “I’ll find something.”

  Just then, we heard a shot. T.J. jumped up and shoved me to the floor. Someone screamed from the front of the house. “What’s going on?”

  “Someone must have tried to get in, and Olivia took a shot at them. Stay here; I’m going to check it out.”

  He left, and I got up, threw on some pants and shoes, and went after him. The front door was standing wide open. Garth had his gun drawn; Olivia was standing to the side, her rifle aimed at the ground. When I walked over to stand next to T.J., I noticed it was Ethan on the ground, holding his left arm. “What’s going on?”

  “I thought I told you to stay inside.”

  “And you really thought I would?”

  He just sighed and shook his head. “It seems Mr. Winthrop tried to make a break for it.”

  “How did he get past Garth? And my security system?”

  “I thought he was asleep on the couch,” Garth replied, “so I went to the bathroom. Next thing I know, he was out the front door.”

  “She tried to kill me!” Ethan screamed. “I’m going to bleed to death. I want her arrested!”

  I knelt beside him. “Let me take a look,” I said, moving his hand. “She just nicked you. T.J., would you go get the first aid kit out of the linen closet?”

  “My arm feels like it’s on fire,” Ethan whined.

  “Oh, shut up, you big baby,” I said.

  T.J. put the kit on the ground next to me. “How did you get past the security system?”

  “I watched her punch in the code,” he said as I cut his shirt sleeve. “Unfortunately, you never went to sleep, so I couldn’t use it until now.”

  “Moron,” I muttered.

  “It’s your fault.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If you hadn’t pointed out that everyone is tryin
g to kill me, I wouldn’t have tried to make a run for it.” I put on some latex gloves, tore open a packet of gauze, and poured some hydrogen peroxide on it before pressing it on his arm. “Watch it, that burns!”

  “Deal with you, you big baby.”

  He looked at T.J. “Are you going to arrest that crazy woman?” he said, pointing at Olivia.

  “For what?”

  “For what? Are you serious? She shot me!”

  “You’re lucky I didn’t cap you in the knee, Winthrop,” Olivia said.

  Owen pulled up in front of the house. “What’s going on?” he asked us as he came over.

  Ethan pointed at Olivia. “Arrest her. She shot me.”

  “Why did you shoot him?”

  “Because he was trying to leave.”

  “Couldn’t you have just yelled for him to stop?”

  “Not from the tree across the street. I felt shooting him was the most effective way to get him to stay. By the time I would have gotten down from the tree, he would have had too much of a head start. I would have never caught up to him.”

  “There, she just admitted it. Arrest her!”

  “I was under the impression, Ethan, that you are to stay here until Agent Hopkins picks you up.”

  “I decide that it would be better for my wellbeing if I made my own arrangements for my safety.”

  “Well, too bad. It’s not up to you.”

  “You’re not going to arrest her?”

  “For what? Keeping you from doing something stupid? From making sure that you stay alive?”

  “Shooting me is not making sure I stay alive.”

  Owen looked at Olivia. “Did you mean to wing him?”

  “Yes. If I had intended to kill him, he’d be dead.”

  I wrapped some gauze around the wound and taped it. “When will Hopkins be here?”

  “I have no idea; he didn’t say.”

  “Well, he can’t stay here,” I replied, closing the first aid kit and standing up. “I have things to do at work.”

  “I’ll call Hopkins and ask him,” T.J. said.

  I left the four of them to deal with Ethan while I went back inside and got ready for work. When I came out forty minutes later, Garth was sitting on the hood of my car. “Where did everyone go?”

  “Olivia is around here somewhere, and the guys put Ethan in Owen’s car and left.”

  I put my bag in my car. “And what are your plans for the day?”

  “Where you go, I go.”

  I started to protest, but decided against it. “Are you hungry?”

  “Of course.”

  “Get in. We’ll go get some breakfast, and then we’ll go to work.”

  Ten minutes later, we were sitting in my usual booth, being eyed by everyone in the place. “Curious lot, aren’t they?” Garth said as he looked around.

  “You’re new in town, and you’re with me,” I explained. “That is enough to get the attention of one or two busybodies.”

  “Like the one coming over here?”

  I looked up and groaned. “This is the worst of them all. Gladys Norwell, a royal pain in my…”

  “Another boyfriend, Lizzie?” Gladys said as she stopped at our booth. “This makes three now, doesn’t it?”

  Garth stood up and held out his hand. “You must be the lovely Mrs. Norwell,” he said.

  “Well, um, yes, I am,” she stammered, shaking his hand.

  “My name is Garth. I have heard so many wonderful things about you,” he said. “They tell me you are one of the best cooks in the county.”

  “Oh, well, I…have won my fair share of blue ribbons at the county fair,” she said, blushing at his praise.

  “Those ribbons were for your sinfully delicious apple pie, wasn’t it? I do hope you’ll make one for me while I am here.”

  “Of course, I’d be happy to do it.”

  “I can’t wait to taste it,” Garth smiled. “Please forgive me, but Ms. Crenshaw and I do have some business to discuss. Perhaps we could talk again some other time?”

  “Oh, please don’t let me interrupt you,” Gladys said. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Garth.”

  “Likewise, Mrs. Norwell.”

  “Please, call me Gladys.”

  “Yes, of course, Gladys. Now, if you will excuse us…”

  She smiled, nodded and hurried off. “I’m impressed,” I told him as he sat down again. “That’s the nicest I’ve ever seen her be to anyone.”

  “Must be that British charm of mine,” he said.

  Maddie came over with my usual Dr Pepper. “Is it just me, or does Glady look…happy?” she said.

  “Garth sweet talked her.”

  Maddie looked at Garth, who shrugged. “I simply asked about her cooking skills.”

  “That’s certainly the way to get on her good side. The usual for you, Lizzie, and for your friend here?”

  “Whatever she’s having is fine, and a cup of coffee.”

  Maddie started to walk away, but turned back. “By the way, two people have been in here looking for you, Lizzie.”

  “Oh really? Who?”

  “The first one was an older gentleman, late fifties, early sixties. He said he was a business associate, here to talk to you about the newspaper. You aren’t planning on selling it, are you?”

  “No,” I said, glancing at Garth, who had a concerned look on his face.

  “The other was a young woman about your age, wavy red hair, blue eyes. She said she was an old college friend of yours.”

  Garth slid out of the booth. “I think we’ll be skipping breakfast this morning, ma’am,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “Something has just come up.”

  I leaned over, grabbed my bag, and hurried after him. “Was it something I said?” Maddie asked.

  “I’ll explain later, if I can,” I told her. Garth was standing by my car. “Where are we going?”

  “Take me to the sheriff’s office. We need to make sure that Ethan is safe right now.”

  I drove us over there. “Do you think that Edward was behind the break-in at the safe house last night?”

  “Had to be him. I doubt Barbara has those type of connections to find out where he is.”

  I parked in front of the station. “I can’t believe he would try to kill his own son,” I said, shaking my head.

  “I believe it.”

  Something whizzed by my ear, causing me to duck. “Was that what I think it was?”

  I heard another shot. This one hit Garth in the left leg, and he dropped like a stone. “Does that answer your question?” he said, grabbing his leg.

  I dragged him over to the side of the car, hoping that offered us some protection.

  Owen and a couple of his deputies came running out, guns drawn. “Get down, you idiots!” I yelled as another shot whizzed by.

  “Where are the shots coming from?” Owen said as he knelt down next to us.

  “I have no idea.”

  “I think from one of the rooftops to the left,” Garth said.

  “We need to get him inside,” I told Owen.

  “Roy, Jeff, get over here.”

  The two deputies duck walked their way over to us. “What’s up?” one of them said.

  “When I say go, Roy, I want you to run up the steps and open the door. Jeff, you help me get him inside.”

  They nodded, and got into position. “Lizzie, you run behind Roy and get inside. All right, ready? Go!”

  I ran behind Roy, who opened the door for me. Owen and Jeff were right behind us, carrying Garth between them as another shot broke the glass door next to Roy. They took Garth into Owen’s office and set him down in a chair. Owen pulled another chair over and propped his injured leg on another chair. “Where’s Ethan?” I asked him.

  “With T.J., I believe. They should be here in a few minutes.”

  “You better tell them to come in the back way.”

  “Jeff, take care of that, will you? Roy, go find that big first aid kit. I think it’s near the
cells.”

  “Owen, let me see your knife. I’m going to slice open his pants leg,” I said, holding out my hand.

  He took it out, open it, and handed it to me. “You want to tell me why someone is taking shots at my station?” he said.

  “Maybe it was someone you gave a ticket to for running a stop sign,” I replied.

  “Very funny. I’m pretty sure they weren’t aiming at me.”

  “Obviously,” I said.

  “So who do you think it is?”

  I looked at Garth. “Should we tell him?”

  “It would be a very wise idea,” he replied as Roy came back with the first aid kit.

  “Thank you, Roy. Stick around; you’ve got some cuts on your face. You know, this is turning into a nasty habit, patching people up who have been shot,” I said as I opened the box.

  “You’re doing a very good job,” Garth said.

  “Years of practice on myself.”

  “Who is shooting at you?” Owen said.

  “Well, it seems that two people went into the café this morning looking for me. An older gentleman and a young woman. I’m pretty sure you can figure out who they are from those descriptions.”

  “Edward Winthrop and Barbara Stephenson.”

  “That is what we think, although I’m pretty sure whoever is taking shots at us is the same person who broke into the safe house last night,” Garth replied.

  “Where is Olivia?” I said.

  “She should be with T.J. and Ethan. We wanted to make sure that he had some protection in case someone tried to kill him again.”

  “I think you two got a bit careless,” Owen said. “You should have been watching your backs as well. T.J. is not going to be happy when he finds out about this.”

  “Why don’t you just get on the phone and call for an ambulance?” I told him. “He needs to be treated by a doctor, not an amateur.”

  I cleaned the wound, took out some gauze pads and a wrap. “Here, hold one here and here,” I told Roy. I placed the wrap around the pads and taped it down. “I think this will hold until you get to the hospital. Does it hurt much?”

  “I’ve been hurt much worse than this, Lizzie,” Garth assured me.

  “I believe it. Roy, sit on the edge of the desk so I can clean those cuts.”

  As I finished treating Roy’s cuts, T.J. came rushing into the office. “Are you hurt?” he said as he gave me a hug.