Without Missing a Bark

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Without Missing a Bark Page 9

by Stella St. Claire


  "What a horrible man. She's better off without him," Olivia grumbled as she grabbed her beer. "But it sounds like she's done okay. Obviously, she went back to school."

  "And she's very happy with her job. She's contented with her life in general," Andrew admitted. "But when I spoke to her, she told me something very interesting."

  Olivia nearly choked on her beer. "Spoke to her? Andrew, you interrogated a suspect without me?"

  "She's not a suspect, Olivia. She just wrote a letter," he said, and shaking his head, he laughed. "Besides, I know her. I thought she might open up more to me."

  Unbelievable. First, he was charging into suspects’ homes, and now he was questioning them without her? What in the world was going on with him?

  "Andrew," she began softly. She needed to put an end to this now before he did something to get himself in trouble.

  "She knew Dear Ruby's secret identity," Andrew interrupted.

  "She what?" Olivia spluttered. The waitress returned with their food, and Olivia blushed when the woman gave her a strange look. After she left, Olivia leaned over her fish and chips. "She what?" she repeated in a lower tone.

  "Yeah. She told me that after her husband asked for a divorce, she was furious. She wanted to blame someone, so she blamed Dear Ruby. Like Scott, she joined an internet support group, and someone published Dear Ruby's real name about six months ago. Melissa looked Madeline up, but she didn’t go there to yell at the woman. She went to thank her. Melissa has taken responsibility for her own actions—but that means others might know Dear Ruby’s identity. Like Scott."

  Groaning inwardly, Olivia rubbed her temples. "Andrew, people lie. Murderers lie. Melissa could be lying to you!"

  "Then why would she tell me that she knew Dear Ruby's real identity? And why would she wait six months to take her revenge? That doesn't make any sense, Olivia." Picking up a piece of the fried haddock, Andrew examined it closely. He took a tentative bite and chewed contemplatively before nodding his head. "Not bad."

  He wasn't wrong—about the fish and the counselor at the hospital—but it was still frustrating. "Did you get a chance to look up the support group and verify that someone leaked Dear Ruby’s name?"

  "Melissa told me her username, and I looked through the history log, but the member who doxed Dear Ruby deleted all their posts and left the group. That user’s name was Lady Lazarus. I can try to contact the forum master and get Lady Lazarus's real identity, but Melissa told me that when she signed up, she didn't have to give out any personal information to join the group. She didn't even need to give them an email.” He paused and knitted his eyebrows in thought. “Lazarus is the man who rose from the dead. Do you know about any women who rose from the dead?"

  Pulling out her phone, Olivia did a quick search. "I think you're thinking a little too hard. ‘Lady Lazarus’ is a poem."

  "What's it about?"

  "Depression and suicide. It's a common theme for Sylvia Plath."

  Andrew looked at her blankly. "You think Sylvia Plath revealed Madeline's dark secret?"

  "No," Olivia chuckled. "I think someone who's a fan of Sylvia Plath revealed Dear Ruby’s identity." She paused. "Or someone who shares the name."

  "I take it that you know who that someone is?"

  "Sylvia is the name of the editor at the town newspaper."

  "She makes money off of Dear Ruby. What does she have to gain?”

  Picking up a piece of her deep-fried fish, Olivia bit into it and smiled happily. It was just as good as she remembered. "That's what I have to find out."

  "We," Andrew reminded her. "That's what we have to find out."

  "Right." Olivia swallowed. She tried not to think about the fact that the mystery had spoiled her proposal.

  Maybe it was karma.

  13

  "Let me get this straight. You're using my pregnancy as a cover to question a person that Andrew has already questioned," Janelle grumbled as she waddled up to the hospital entrance doors, Olivia and Jackie flanking her like bodyguards.

  "I'm not using you," Olivia said as the automatic doors opened. "I'm just knocking out two birds with one stone. You get a checkup, and I get to talk to Melissa. Besides, I'm not checking up on Andrew. I have a few additional questions that he may not have asked."

  Jackie snorted. "Sure.” She shook her head. “I think that you're unhappy because your boyfriend—who has been against you working on cases from the get-go—is making more headway in this investigation than you are."

  "It's not a competition," Olivia grumbled as she stopped to look at the directory. Janelle needed to go to the sixth floor, but Melissa Benoit worked on the fourth. "Andrew just isn’t trained. This is his first mystery. Remember me, during my first investigation?"

  "I remember that you lured a killer into my bakery," Janelle snapped. The elevator doors opened, and they piled in.

  Olivia gasped. "I didn't lure anyone! Besides, you just made my point. Andrew could get himself killed!"

  "My, how the tables have turned," Jackie said with a smile. The elevator stopped, and the doors opened on the fourth floor. "I wouldn't tell Andrew that I was doing this, if I were you."

  "I'll be back with you in a few minutes." Shaking her head, Olivia stepped out, and the door closed behind her. She felt a little uncomfortable talking to Melissa after Andrew had, but at the same time, her boyfriend was always so trusting. If she was going to let him investigate with her, then she wanted to make sure she had his back.

  Which meant making sure that she personally marked suspects off her list.

  Melissa Benoit was an attractive woman. She was in her mid-forties with pretty, auburn-colored hair and a sweet smile. At first glance, Olivia could see why Andrew believed her. She might have been a trusting woman, but she knew what it was like to wake up one day and realize that she'd lost something very important.

  For Olivia herself, it had been Andrew, but for Melissa, it had been her dreams. Olivia was filled with energy and the desire to win Andrew back, but maybe Melissa was filled with a thirst for vengeance. Dear Ruby might not have split the married couple up, but she’d certainly had some choice words to say.

  It made her an easy target.

  "Ms. Benoit?" Olivia asked as she knocked lightly on the door. "I'm Olivia Rickard. My sister Janelle is here for a prenatal checkup.” She smiled and added, feeling awkward, “She's due to give birth soon.” Yup. Now came the awkward part. There was no way to smoothly segue into the next part. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions."

  Melissa looked up from her desk and smiled.

  Olivia immediately felt at ease. She could see why the woman made an excellent counselor.

  "Come on in. I have a meeting in about thirty minutes, but I'll be happy to make an appointment for you. Why don't you tell me a little bit about what's going on."

  "It's not me. My relationship is great. I'm actually here about my sister."

  "Your pregnant sister?" Melissa's eyes widened. "Is the father's child abusing her? Olivia, I only talk with people after the police have gotten involved. If you think that your sister is in danger, you need to speak to them immediately."

  That had escalated quickly. Olivia suddenly realized what the job of a “victims’ counselor” entailed. "No. That's not it at all!" The last thing that she wanted was for the police to go knocking on Patrick's door. "Wow. You really are a counselor for victims. I just thought that maybe people chatted with you when they were having issues with their relationships."

  "No, I'm not a therapist," Melissa laughed. "I'm not certified. I'm sort of a go-between. I stay with them when they're with the police, and lawyer, if lawyers are necessary. I help to make sure that they feel safe, and then I find a program that will be the right fit for them to help them get back on their feet again."

  "Because you're had experience with that?"

  Melissa cocked her head. "How did you know that? Wait a minute, did you say that your name is Olivia?” She nodded to herself. “Yo
u're Andrew's girlfriend. He talks about you a lot."

  He did? Pleasure blossomed inside her even as she realized that her cover was blown. "Yes, I am."

  Leaning back in her chair, Melissa closed the book she was writing in and arched her eyebrows. "I have a feeling that your sister is in a very happy and healthy relationship. You're not here for counseling."

  "Not exactly."

  "He talked about your amateur sleuthing. He's very proud of you. He also told me that Dear Ruby is dead. I take it that you're investigating.” She cocked her head and eyed the dog walker. “Olivia, I didn't kill her."

  She didn't sound defensive. In fact, she sounded amused at the idea that someone thought she was a killer. Closing the door behind her, Olivia crossed the small office and sat in the hard wooden chair across from the desk. "So tell me what happened."

  "It makes me good at my job, you know? Going through what I went through. I understand mental manipulation all too well. Co-dependency. Thinking that your spouse's happiness is all that matters. And then, when you realize that they don't care about you at all,” Melissa shook her head and added, lower, “I understand the stages of grief. The questions. Was this all my fault? Could I have done something different to make him stay? To make him love me?"

  Olivia's heart broke. "Melissa."

  "Directing that anger and grief is the hardest part. For me, it was Dear Ruby. I knew what kind of woman she was. I knew I wasn't going to get a pat on the head, but that didn't make her response any easier to hear. ‘A waif. A doormat.’ She spoke the truth. She hit the nail right on the head, and it spurred me to take action. I finally stood up to my husband, and for a long time, it felt like I had lost, and she was the easiest person to blame."

  "So you joined the I Hate Dear Ruby group? Is this group very big?"

  "You have to understand that Dear Ruby was syndicated. She might have lived in Lexingburg and written for a small newspaper, but her columns were published in other cities. So, yes. Hundreds of people were part of that group. Some were victims. Some were just angry readers who didn't like her columns. All of them probably wanted to know her true identity."

  "How long was her identity made public in the group?"

  Melissa tapped her fingers on the desk. "Not long. A couple of minutes, maybe. It was the first post I saw when I logged in that day, but it was gone when I refreshed my feed. I don't even know that anyone else saw it, but I wanted to see the woman face-to-face."

  "Give her a piece of your mind?"

  Chuckling, the victims’ advocate shook her head. "A year ago? I would have loved to slap that woman around, but not now. I wanted to thank her for helping me become the woman I am today. This wasn't my original dream—but I'm happy. Happier than my marriage ever made me. I have a great job. I've made some great friends. I'm independent. I might even start dating soon."

  Olivia could see why Andrew believed her. This must be the most well-adjusted woman alive. "What happened when you went to see her?"

  Melissa’s mouth twisted wryly. "I discovered that the relationship columnist was nothing more than a bitter woman. She was angry that I’d found her. She didn't care about anything I had to say. She didn't even care that I knew who she was." Melissa shrugged. "I left, and I never told anyone that I knew. It was never brought up again in the forum, so if anyone else saw it, they kept it to themselves."

  "The person who posted it? Lady Lazarus? Do you remember what her problem was?"

  Melissa shook her head. "I'm not being very helpful, am I? I'd never even seen that member before that day.” She tilted her head and examined Olivia’s face. “I told all of this to Andrew. Did he not tell you?"

  "He did," Olivia said carefully. "I'm just following up."

  There was a moment of silence while Melissa studied her. Finally, she leaned forward. "Olivia, I'm not a therapist. I don't specialize in relationships, but I do recognize trouble in paradise when I see it. You’re questioning Andrew's competence."

  "No! I would never!" Olivia chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to figure out how best to explain it. "It's just that Andrew made it sound like maybe you guys were friends. I just wanted to make sure that he wasn't . . . that you weren't . . ."

  "That I wasn't lying to him?" Melissa cracked a wide smile. "I get it. You're worried about Andrew. This sleuthing that you do is dangerous, and now he's helping. Have you told him?"

  "Not exactly. I'm trying to be supportive. It's a secret—I mean, he doesn’t know, but I'm going to ask Andrew to marry me. After what happened to us last time, I want him to know that I'm ready, and I don't want anything to stand in the way of that. He's letting me investigate, which isn't easy for him, so I want him to help."

  Melissa smiled. "Support is good, Olivia, but so is open communication. Supporting him won't get the two of you very far if you don't also tell him how you feel." She paused and narrowed her eyes. "Wait, you're going to propose—to him?"

  "Yes. Why is everyone so surprised by that? This is the modern age."

  "No. That's not it at all." Melissa looked away awkwardly, and Olivia waited, feeling expectant.

  "But?"

  "No buts,” Melissa said briskly, and she suddenly busied herself with shuffling the papers on her desk into a neat stack. “I think it's great. Good luck with it. Now if you'll excuse me, I really do have a meeting to go to. Let me know if you have any more questions later."

  Olivia wanted to point out that Melissa's meeting was twenty minutes away, but the woman practically pushed her out of the office and slammed the door behind her.

  What a weird woman.

  After heading back to the elevator, she rode it up to the sixth floor. Janelle and Jackie were still waiting to see the doctor.

  "Solve the case?" Jackie asked with a grin. "Or did you find out that Andrew had everything covered, all along?"

  "It seems that he was very thorough," Olivia admitted. "What do you guys know about the newspaper editor? She didn't grow up here."

  "Sylvia?" Janelle moved restlessly in her chair. "Olivia, now that your little interrogation is over, can we go home? I don't actually need to see the doctor, and these chairs are very uncomfortable."

  "We're here, and we have an appointment. It would be rude not to leave. Besides, I'm hoping that the doctor tells you to take it easy, and maybe you'll listen."

  Jackie cleared her throat. "Sylvia moved here a few years ago. I think she actually lives in the city. She might run the town newspaper, but I don't ever see her socializing here. I get the feeling that she's used to city life. Why?"

  "I think she might be the person who spilled Madeline's secret. The person who did used a poem from Sylvia Plath as a username, and the name was only posted for a couple of minutes. Someone posted—and then immediately regretted it. That doesn't sound like an angry victim."

  "Dear Ruby made a lot of money for the newspaper. Why would Sylvia dox her?"

  "I don't know, but I'd like to have an idea before I go talk to her. Actually, this might be the perfect job for Andrew. Some research. Simple. Safe. Right up his alley." Olivia smiled as the nurse came out and announced Janelle's name.

  "I’d better get a lollipop out of this," Janelle grumbled as she stood.

  Olivia and Jackie both chuckled. As they followed her back, Jackie leaned over to Olivia. "Andrew underestimated you, Olivia. And you hated it. Don't do the same thing to him."

  Olivia wanted to reassure her friend that she had every confidence in Andrew, but she wanted to close this case as quickly as possible so she could go back to the proposal.

  And that meant keeping Andrew safe.

  14

  “She was your sister,” Rose said in disgust. “And you killed her for the gold?”

  Gabe’s eyes were lit with anger. “She might have been my blood, but she was never my sister. She grew up with a loving mother and a wonderful step-father. I grew up with a father who drank every night and used up my college fund to buy drugs.”

  Her hands were still
tied behind her back, and Christopher was bleeding profusely in the corner. She needed to get him to the hospital, or she was going to lose him. “You act like that was her fault. She found you. When she discovered that she had a brother, she went looking for you.”

  “And all I wanted was her help in searching for the family gold. It was our birthright!” He pointed the gun at her. “But she thought the gold was tainted in blood. She thought it represented our greed.”

  “She wasn’t wrong.”

  Gabe chuckled. “No, I guess she wasn’t, but if she had just agreed to help me, we could have been a family. A wealthy family. So how about you, Rose? Do you want to help me? Tell me the location of the gold, and I won’t put another bullet hole in your boyfriend.”

  Rose narrowed her eyes. “You know that I gave this up, right? I made a mistake, and I thought that I could build a whole new identity. Pretend that it never happened.”

  “Your point?”

  “My point is that I was wrong. This is what I do. I get justice for people, and I’m going to get justice for Lizzy. Sorry, Gabe. You screwed with the wrong woman.” She lashed out with her foot and landed a solid kick on his wrist. He howled in pain, but Rose was ready.

  Jumping to her feet, she bent her knees. If Gabe wanted a fight, she would give it to him. She’d save Christopher, even with both hands tied behind her back.

  "I'm pretty sure that huffing paint this close to labor is not a great idea," Olivia whispered to Jackie as they walked up the walkway to Janelle's house. She'd called them an hour ago, a desperate note in her voice.

  The nursery was all wrong. After the doctor's visit, Janelle had realized that her baby was going to hate the yellow room. It was the wrong shade. She needed a new color. Now.

 

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