Fit To Be Dead (An Aggie Mundeen Mystery Book 1)

by Nancy G. West

  “Great idea.” I returned her sneaky smile. “When we leave, I’ll take the sign down.”

  “The equipment room’s open. You guys have fun.” She sauntered back to the ladies’ locker room, laughing.

  Dashing back to the locker room, I ripped off my workout clothes. My new suit was a bluish-green two-piece with a low-cut, uplifting top. I doubted I’d actually wear it in public. During the next stage of my plan, I’d have to be extremely careful or I might end up modeling my new swimsuit on a slab.

  I fluffed my hair, put on lipstick and scampered to the pool, slowing my gait to a provocative swivel in case Mickey had already arrived. Climbing onto the diving board, I sat very straight—stomach in, chest out. I crossed my legs at the ankles and dangled my feet off to one side. Straightening both arms behind me on the board, I gazed with aplomb at the domed ceiling, mimicking the pose swimsuit models struck in magazines.

  Mickey ambled in wearing red swim trunks. He’d lightly oiled his body, which made his muscles ripple seductively. He was one gorgeous hunk. He approached me, smiling like Tom Selleck, and planted his hands to either side of me on the board. Looking deep into my eyes, he kissed my cheek. He squared up and kissed me lightly on the lips. Just as his lips slid over my Adam’s apple, I swallowed.

  Putting my hands against his chest, I pushed gently, hoping my vocal chords could produce speech. “Sarah left the equipment room open,” I gurgled, “so we can get a couple of floats for the pool.”

  “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He helped me off the board, which was fortunate since my knees wanted to buckle. He tickled my back as we walked toward the storage room. I had so much goose flesh, I must have looked like a plucked chicken.

  As soon as we entered the room, I headed for the equipment rack, grabbed floating devices and flipped off the light switch.

  “Ahl right!” In a leap, Mickey was behind me. I tensed, not sure what to expect. As he spun me around in the dark, I raised one knee, poised to inflict a soccer kick. Mickey nudged me up against the wall. Was he going to grab my throat and choke me? No. He was intent on some serious groping. Fortunately, I’d positioned two water noodles between us.

  “Let’s go in the water,” I croaked. “We’ll have more fun in the deserted pool, don’t you think? Cool...comfortable...”

  “I guess so,” he panted. He put an arm around my shoulder so I couldn’t escape, grabbed one of the noodles and nudged me, hip-to-hip, out the door. As we approached the pool, the underwater pool lights glared on. Mickey blinked. I spotted a black electric line in the water.

  With all the force I could muster, I shoved him away from the edge. The tile was slick. Unfortunately, he crashed hard on his magnificent derriere. I marveled at his string of southern curse words as I scrambled back to the equipment room.

  I grabbed the opaque club bottle I’d stashed outside the storage room door, yanked the top off, slipped the mace canister into my other hand, put my finger on the spray button and ran to the circuit box. “Hey!” I shouted.

  The figure whirled around and lunged to flip the switch to electrify the line in the water. I aimed at her eyes and sprayed mace at Sarah Savoy.

  Something popped out, flew from her face and tinkled when it hit the floor. While she sputtered, I grabbed an Aqua Belt off the rack, yanked her arms behind her back and tied them with the cinch strap. Unfortunately, I positioned myself in the cloud of mace and my eyes caught fire.

  “What the...?” Sam appeared in the doorway wearing purple swim trunks, red socks, and beach sandals. Mickey dripped behind him, massaging his gluteus maximus. “I’ll be doggoned.”

  Sam pulled handcuffs out of his swim trunks and snapped them on Sarah. “I believe you dropped your lenses, Miss Livermore. Linda, isn’t it?”

  “Sarah is really Grace’s daughter? Linda?” The brown-haired, brown-eyed girl in Grace’s photographs? I couldn’t believe it.

  “With bleached curly hair and blue contacts, no one pegged you as Linda Livermore, did they?” Sam said.

  When I maced her, Linda’s hard blue contact lenses had hit the floor.

  “How did you know Sarah was Linda?” I asked Sam, fanning my eyes.

  “Linda Livermore’s trail led us from California back to San Antonio. Her leaving California fit with the timing of Sarah Savoy’s employment here. We matched a picture of Linda her stepbrothers gave us with a photo of Sarah Savoy in the club records. The likeness was unmistakable. We thought Sarah’s prints would match the ones on Linda’s science books.”

  “Why would Linda Livermore kill Holly Holmgreen?”

  “She wanted Holly’s baby. Holly had promised to give her the child but refused to go through with it. Holly placed the baby with Methodist Mission Home, where it was quickly adopted. Ned Barclay told us what happened.”

  Linda bawled louder. Sam pressed her. “Grace and George wouldn’t keep the neighbor’s baby for you, would they, Linda? They wouldn’t adopt the baby you loved. When George Ball reneged on you, you killed him.”

  My hands flew to my face. How could she do that? How could Grace’s daughter kill the man Grace had married?

  “They didn’t want those babies,” Linda sputtered. “Martha and Holly didn’t even want their babies! Why wouldn’t they let me keep them?” she wailed.

  I was amazed that the congenial woman I knew as Sarah Savoy could look so evil. When Grace’s daughter, Linda Livermore, transformed herself into Sarah Savoy, she finally got the movie star name she wanted. But the little girl Grace knew had disappeared years ago. I watched Sarah disintegrate into Linda Livermore’s skin.

  Sam retrieved a cell phone from his purple trunks and told headquarters to send two police officers to Fit and Firm Health Club on Austin Highway. “Looks like we have Holly Holmgreen’s killer.”

  As Sam spoke, Harry Thorne lumbered up. “Sarah Savoy? That bubblehead killed my girl?” Harry’s face reddened sideways to his ears.

  I faced Harry. “Did you think I knew something about Holly? Is that why you followed me to Las Tapitas Tuesday night?”

  Harry stared at the girl he knew as Sarah Savoy. The pain on his face was wrenching. He finally focused on me. “I thought you might know something about why Holly died. She and I had yelled at each other that morning. Before I could catch up with you outside the restaurant, I got sick. I’ve been sick ever since she died.”

  “Why did you go to Holly’s apartment Wednesday afternoon?”

  “I thought I might find something...some reason why somebody wanted to kill her. I’d written her a note. She thought I restricted her, but I just loved her. I wanted to see if she’d kept the note.” He glared at Linda Livermore. “Why? Why?”

  Harry, overwhelmed with grief and anger, could barely get words out. His eyes filled and he left. Trying to explain to him that Sarah wasn’t even Sarah was a horrible prospect. Sam would have to untangle the whole sordid story for poor Harry Thorne.

  I turned to Sam with tears streaming down my face. “Do you want Mickey and me to watch Linda while you change your clothes?” He looked very unprofessional. Somebody might snap his picture in that get-up.

  “Not a chance. We’re all staying right here in this room.”

  I told him I absolutely had to go to the locker room to wash my hands and flush out my eyes. Linda’s eyes burned so much, Sam said I could bring back a wet towel to wipe the mace off her face. Once she felt better, Linda hissed at me not to touch her. “Too bad I couldn’t kill you, too,” she snarled.

  “I don’t see why you had to kill anybody,” Sam said.

  “That baby-faced brat deserved it! She stole every man I dated. Then she got pregnant with Ned and didn’t even want the baby. She promised me I could have it. I paid for the doctor, the hospital, everything. Now I’ll never have a baby!” Linda was sobbing so hard, she looked ten years older.

  “Why not?” I whispered.

  “I’m not married...and the gynecologist said...” She shot daggers at me. “It’s none of your business
what he said. You helped Holly. You liked Holly. You didn’t even care what she did. You’d probably give your child away, too.” She narrowed her eyes. “When you and I talked in the locker room, I thought that was exactly what you did.” She reached in her pocket and flipped something toward me. It was Lee’s baby bracelet.

  Fortunately, I stood between her and Sam, with my back to him. I caught the bracelet midair and stuffed it down the front of my swimsuit. My heart was beating so hard, I feared it would blast Lee’s bracelet out of there. Linda must have found it at my house. She must have stolen my house keys from my locker and let herself in.

  Linda squinted her eyes into searing slits. “People like you and Holly deserve to die.” She was deranged, but she was frighteningly perceptive. I dared not make eye contact with Sam.

  Two SAPD officers strode into the equipment room. One had a chewed pant leg. He gawked at my swimsuit and stared at my face. I looked different with my hair combed, red eyes, and tears streaking down my face.

  “Are you...?” He stared at my swimsuit again. “Aren’t you the one who...?”

  “Never mind, Stanish. Just escort Miss Livermore, to the station. We’ll get our questions answered in due time.”

  I tried to appear innocent, but I knew that Sam knew I’d befuddled his officer.

  Stanish and the other officer put crime scene tape around the equipment room and escorted Linda Livermore out the door. Sam said he’d drive me home and headed for the men’s locker room to change his clothes.

  Mickey gaped at me. I think he was trying to decide which one of us should be angrier.

  I wiped my eyes with a wet cloth. “If you promise not to grope me, I promise not to deck you near the swimming pool.”

  He looked at me for a long time before his face cracked. When he exploded with laughter, every woman who heard him probably praised heaven for the wonderful, deep-throated sound. Tiles probably shattered by the pool. I chuckled with him before I turned toward the women’s locker room.

  I would have to apologize to Ned Barclay another time. Right now, I wasn’t up to it. As for Sheldon, he was probably planning his next meal.

  Meredith ventured into the locker room. “Aggie, are you all right? I saw police escorting Sarah out of the club. It was her, Sarah Savoy? She’s the one who killed Holly and tried to kill you?”

  I nodded. “Sarah’s real name is Linda Livermore, my neighbor Grace’s daughter.”

  “Why on earth...?”

  “Precious Holly Holmgreen stole all Linda’s boyfriends. Sarah, who is really Linda, apparently decided Holly might be less competition if she suffered from a little poison. She noted which deodorant spray Holly used and put pulverized mothballs in the bottle. Made from Camphor, mothballs are poisonous. But I used more spray than Holly did, and it made me sick.”

  “Why did Linda want to kill Holly?”

  “Linda apparently can’t have children. When she learned Holly was going to give up her baby, she offered to pay Holly’s medical expenses if Holly would give her the child. Holly agreed. Once the baby was born and Linda had paid for everything, Holly refused to go through with it. That’s when Linda tried to electrocute her in the pool. When I showed up, Linda decided to help rescue her. She was so full of hatred, she rammed Holly with her car.

  “Linda is irrational...demented. She concluded that because I sympathized with Holly, I must have given up a child, too. Maybe she thought Holly told me she’d reneged on her promise to give Linda her baby. Maybe she thought I’d figure out she killed Holly, so she came after me.” I shrugged. “At least it’s over and we’re all right. And we have a six-month, half-price membership at Fit and Firm.”

  “Unbelievable. Unbelievable. Yes, we do. We can work out without wondering what will happen next. I don’t know how you’ll manage to help your friend Grace.”

  “I don’t know, either.”

  I was glad Meredith didn’t ask me what happened after I left her at the treadmill. We went to the locker room so I could change back into workout clothes, but my clothes were gone. Someone had swiped my pink T-shirt, leggings, and Adidas.

  “I’ll get your clothes from my car. The bag lady outfit.”

  I shoved my baby’s wristband down to my waist. When Meredith returned, I pulled on the World War II garb with Charlie’s boots, since they were the only shoes I had. When Meredith learned Sam was driving me home, she couldn’t stop laughing.

  Sam was waiting in the foyer. He looked more dignified in khakis than in swim trunks, even though his khakis were wrinkled.

  “Why did you arrive in your swimsuit?” I asked him.

  “I had an idea you might show up at the pool. I wanted to be ready for anything. I’m beginning to think like you, Aggie. Unfortunately.” He looked me up and down but didn’t comment on my attire.

  Meredith stifled giggles as we walked her to her car. When Sam and I meandered to his vehicle, he didn’t seem to notice he was walking with a refugee. His features looked frozen. I suspected I was about to hear a lecture.

  Thirty-Eight

  Sam got in the car and slammed the door. “Agatha, you could have gotten yourself killed. You skipped out of your house, deceived poor Stanish, made that dog practically rip his pants off and raced off to the health club to confront a killer. Are you crazy?”

  I resented that. I was curious and imaginative, but I was definitely not crazy and he knew it. I had to defend myself.

  “Look. I knew Sheldon, Ned, Mickey, and Pete better than you did. They all hated me. Well, Pete just disliked me. I thought he had pushed me down the stairs. Now I know it was Linda.”

  He shook his head and started the car.

  “Anyway, I knew if I could make the men angry enough, the killer, whoever he was, would try again. I wasn’t sure about Harry. It was hard to imagine him killing the child he’d helped raise, no matter how badly she’d hurt him. Anyway, the men were all suspects, even if Linda, Patricia, Mindy, and Knobs had easier access to the women’s locker room.”

  “Who are Patricia, Mindy, and Knobs?”

  I ignored his question. “I was pretty sure that whoever killed Holly also tried to kill me. So I tormented Sheldon. Then I infuriated Ned. I gave Mickey the opportunity to do me in after Cardio Boot Camp. Mickey probably bragged to everybody at camp we were meeting at the pool, which might have alerted another suspect I hadn’t even considered.”

  He looked over with an “I told you so” look and shook his head again.

  “Linda knew I was going swimming with Mickey. When she went to the locker room, every woman there probably heard her tease me about it. I thought if I could be sure the equipment room housing the electrical panel stayed open, the person who tried to fry Holly in the water would be tempted to try again.”

  “Well, you were right about that.” He drove so slowly, I was surprised people didn’t honk. His hair had plopped so low on his brow, it almost touched his glasses. I guess he hadn’t had time to get a haircut.

  “Sometimes, Agatha, you wear me out.”

  “You want to know the whole story, don’t you? I realized Sheldon was too self-absorbed to expend the effort to kill anybody. Poor Ned really loved Holly, even though she could never be as dedicated or as mature as he was. But he could never kill anyone. So that left Mickey, Pete, Harry, Sarah (who was actually Linda), Patricia, Mindy, and Knobs.”

  “Who are...?”

  “None of the women liked me, but I didn’t think they knew me well enough to want to kill me.”

  He sighed as he turned up Burr Road. I was pretty tired myself.

  He stopped his car in front of my house, looked directly at me and grabbed my hand. “I care about you, Aggie.”

  I closed my eyes, gave thanks, and opened them. “I know. I care about you, too. I always have.”

  “We need to have dinner—a nice, relaxed dinner somewhere.”

  I gazed down at Grace’s clothes. I didn’t want to go on my first real date with Sam looking like a bag lady. I wanted to be sp
arkling clean, fresh and beautiful. And I needed to hide Lee’s bracelet in a more secure niche. I already felt younger.

  “I can’t tell Grace yet,” I said.

  “No. I’m afraid there’s more to it.”

  I withdrew my hand. “More?”

  “Remember my telling you that Grace’s first husband, Charlie Livermore, went after young girls when he got drunk?”

  “Of course.”

  “Anna, the neighbor, told us she thought Charlie went after Linda, too.”

  “His own daughter?”

  “I’m afraid so. Linda confided in Martha, Anna’s granddaughter. That’s probably what started all this. Charlie Livermore molested Linda. She couldn’t tell her mother, Grace. She thought her only option was to kill Charlie.”

  “I thought he died in his car from the fire, after he’d passed out from alcohol.”

  “He did. Kim told us he didn’t really want to go out that night. Linda talked him into putting on his wool and silk jacket and taking her to dinner.”

  “Wait. As for the jacket, wasn’t it Kim and not Linda, who studied textiles?”

  “Yes. That’s why it was significant when we found Linda’s prints all over that chapter of Kim’s book, the chapter describing deadly fumes produced by burning wool and silk.”

  “Didn’t you tell me that foam and plastic in burning car seats produce cyanide gas?”

  “I did. Linda undoubtedly knew it, too. She augmented her chances of killing Charlie with the combination of his burning jacket, the car seats, alcohol, and cigarettes.”

  “You apparently obtained the girls’ textbooks after Elmore Moseley weaseled them away from Grace.” I huffed and looked out the window.

  “Yes. Including Linda’s books on chemistry, pharmacy, and toxicology, and her computer ear-marking her favorite toxicology sites. The full name of the school where Linda applied is the University of Texas School of Pharmacy and Toxicology.”

  “Toxicology. The study of drugs and poisons.”

  “And how they contribute to a person’s aberrant behavior and death. Once we matched prints from Linda’s California office with prints on the girls’ books to make sure it was the same woman, we traced her whereabouts from California to San Antonio and went through Fit and Firm’s employee records. We got more prints from Sarah Savoy’s club locker. Just as we thought, they matched Linda Livermore’s prints.”