by J R Pearson
"Blamed the landlord," Tony concluded.
"Who’s the prime suspect?" Josie asked, even though they were veering off topic.
"Jason Livingston. He—"
"Hold on. Livingston?" She looked up at Tony, trying to remember where she heard that name before. “The driver! The man who came to us for help."
"His first name is Adam, babe," Tony reminded her.
"What are you talking about?" Reese interjected. Josie's brain was working double time. After Jason vanished, what became of him?
"Reese, is there a photo of Jason you can send me?"
"Yeah, hang on." Seconds later there was a ping and Josie opened the media message.
"Obviously, Adam and Jason don’t have the same first name, but who does this man look like?" She showed Tony. His eyes grew wide.
"Son of a—"
"Jason and Adam are the same person." There was no mistaking it. The faces matched. Freckles included. Except Adam's hair was now black when it used to be strawberry blond.
"If you're implying what I think you are implying, then why would he lead us to John's body?"
"It was all an act," she said. Holy moly, it was starting to fall into place. "To continue to fly under the radar, like he did after killing Dennis, now he was acting as the unfortunate witness to a murder. A murder he caused," she explained. Luck was extremely on his side to not have been caught. And how crazy was it that he skated by without changing his last name?
"Can someone catch me up?” Reese said. She forgot he was still on the line.
"Adam Livingston, Reese. Remember that name," she said, then hung up. Tony sat back and crossed his massive arms.
"So after Adam kills the landlord, he gets a job driving John around in a limo?" he said.
"How else would he get in close? When John told him to pull over in a secluded area, he hit the jackpot when Chris wandered off and he was left alone with John."
Motive: revenge. Like Tony said, Adam/Jason was playing the blame game with people who he thinks contributed to the death of his uncle. Those players being Dennis, John…
Chris?
CHAPTER NINE
"Could Chris be next?" she asked Tony, who shook his head.
"Surely Adam knows Chris had nothing to do with the buying or selling of the apartment. Unless he found out that Chris signs the checks of the janitors who clean the floors where his uncle died, I think it’s safe to say Chris will be all right." Josie just stared at him. He groaned.
"Jo, it wasn’t twenty-four hours ago that you declared Chris as the culprit."
"Okay, well, clearly I’ve changed my mind. It wouldn’t hurt to check. I know where he's staying."
"And completely bypass notifying Sheriff Baker?"
"And tell him what? The daughter of one of his suspects thinks she may have solved his case? Baker will think it's some ploy to get the heat away from my parents." Josie stood from the bench. "Chris left me to go unlock the cottage for Adam. Who knows what deadly trick Adam... Jason... whoever he is, played again?” She glanced across the beach at Brad. Tons of beach-goers surrounded the models and Brad was just loving the attention.
"We'll be quick. Brad can stay here doing"—she caught him kissing his bicep—"whatever Brad-creatures normally do."
Tony got to his feet and towered above her. "Fine. But since you brought up deadly tricks, can we make a deal that you'll do as I say?" He tapped her nose.
"We’ll see," she smirked.
***
Chris's rental car was the only vehicle in the circular lot of the cottages. Out of five, it faced cottage number three. The door was wide open to the small white-paneled structure. Josie left the truck and walked a pace behind Tony, who stopped short of the entrance.
"Chris?" she called out, peeking around Tony. "He should be here, I see the car he's renting."
Tony knocked on the doorframe. They were looking at an open-floor concept, a cozy space that contained a small living room and kitchenette. The furniture was tidy and simple in variations of blues. Josie inched closer into the room. To the right was a half bathroom.
On the tile floor, a pair of legs connected to a body—out of view—was behind the bathroom door. Tony shot an arm to block her from moving in any closer.
"Our deal," he said. "I'm notifying the police." Patting his pockets, he came up short. "My cell must be in the car. Let me use yours."
"My purse is in the car." They were definitely deducted common sense points.
"Don't move. I'll get mine." He jogged to the car while Josie stood shivering and staring at the bathroom. She wanted so badly to see if the owner of the legs was okay. From her position, she couldn't confirm if it was Chris or not.
"Unnk!" A grunt and what sounded like something heavy dropping to the ground came from behind her. Josie swiveled around and saw Tony crumpled by the front tire of his car. She rushed forward, crouching beside him.
"Tony?!" She gripped his arm, shaking it lightly. Eyes closed, Tony was non-responsive but breathing.
A ribbon of blood slid from a gash above his ear.
"No, no, no...” Josie scrambled to her feet to get her purse when suddenly a solid force rammed in between her shoulder blades, throwing her against the car then again hitting her skull. She felt an explosion of pain blaze inside her head until darkness left her feeling and seeing nothing.
***
Ringing. Loud ringing that wouldn’t stop. Her head was floating, drifting in circles while the rest of her body remained motionless. An uncomfortable pressure weighed heavily on top her face.
I'm home, aren’t I? In bed with Petey who once again was sitting on my face like it was his own personal throne.
Boy, was she wrong. Really, Josie wanted to believe she was in her warm apartment, about to get up and pour herself a cup of coffee with just a tad extra sugar.
However, she was still caught in a nightmare.
"They weren’t supposed to be here…"
She flinched when hearing a scratchy voice. She risked shifting her achy head to the side. She was lying on the floor, her foot grazing the post of a bed. The voice came from the dark-hooded man sitting at a desk by a window.
Although the shades on the window were drawn, shadows seeped through the cracks, indicating some time had passed. She wasn't sure how long, and this worried her for a number of reasons. Did anyone know where she was? Not Brad. She regretted not telling him where they went.
Was Tony still unconscious on the ground? She snuck a peek at the man between slitted eyes, not wanting him to notice she'd awakened. He jerked the hood down, revealing to Josie his identity as Adam. He glared at the brown liquid drink in his hands.
At his feet sat a narrow cedar plank broken in half. Red specks dotted the jagged wood. Josie's stomach catapulted into her throat. Tony's blood.
She knew her own added to the gory artwork because of the sticky wetness she felt matted in her hair.
"I don’t know what to do," Adam mumbled to himself, beginning to rock. "I wish you were here," he whimpered. Using his sleeve, he wiped his nose and mouth. "I'm okay. I'm okay. I did this for you." He nodded. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose was red and runny. Josie hadn't a clue what he was talking about—maybe he was communicating with his dead uncle. Whatever, it freaked her out, causing her body to shudder.Where was Tony? Was he…? Josie swallowed her panic, nearly choking on fear. She forced herself to stop thinking, and to just act.
When Adam scrubbed his haggard face—his vision obscured—she made a run for it.
***
Two painkillers and a side of ice pack. Would that recipe become popular on her blog? It was sure needed for her current state. Josie nearly crashed to the ground once she'd bolted to her feet. Black dots floated in the air in front of her. She turned left in the hallway, running past another bedroom, bathroom, and library nook. She was located in the back end of the cottage and was coming upon a screen door. Seconds that counted toward escaping went into unlatching the lock. She whim
pered then cried out in frustration. Josie made it out, tripping on the step and onto the deck. Adam wasn't far behind.
Josie spied the broken plank in his hand. Didn’t anyone tell him it wasn't nice to hit people with hard objects?
Adam's breathing was uneven like it was the day he ran to them for her and Tony for help. Still, he was a mere couple of feet behind.
Josie fought the burn that radiated from her lungs, but kept pushing her feet, booking it to the front of the cottage. She reached the curb. If she could keep going, maybe someone driving by would spot her. Though at the moment, conveniently, for those terrifying moments that plagued naive people—herself included—not a soul was in sight to help.
Beep beep!
But then again...
Josie spotted Brad approaching in the driver's seat of a golf cart. Beside him sat a woman wearing a floppy teal hat on top of unruly curls.
"MOM?!" Josie veered out of the way. Behind her, Adam jerked to a halt. He swore an expletive and hoofed it in the other direction, only to stop again. Her dad and Rob sat behind the wheel of the old beige family van. Rob jerked the van in Adam's path, revving the engine—a threat that meant he wasn’t afraid to bounce Adam off the hood. The last option was the cottage parking lot, and that was a no go. A royal blue Vespa swerved around the golf cart to block him. Josie recognized Veronica under a sleek black helmet that matched her goth appearance.
Richie sat in the side car wearing magnifying goggles.
The wrath of the Rizzos, no matter how odd—I'm looking at you, Richie—was not a force to be trifled with. Police SUVs blared their sirens, braking on either side of the golf cart. Uniformed men, guns drawn, jumped out and shouted for Adam to get on his knees. Adam, stuck worse than a piece of gum on a sidewalk, raised his hands and obliged. Once he was handcuffed, Josie finally exhaled in relief.
***
Finding his shirt on an empty bench and the increasing pile of calls Josie and Tony weren't answering, Brad sounded the alarm on the missing couple. When hours passed with no word, Sheriff Baker and his deputies joined in on the search. Suspects or not, David and Gina had Baker push that aside and focus on locating their daughter.
Miles away behind their computers, Reese and Russell aided the search party. Doing so brought to light an unauthorized GPS chip Reese installed in Josie's phone, which homed in on the area where the cottages were. Fast forwarding, Chris was the one on the tile floor in the bathroom. He endured the full brunt of Adam's murderous revenge and was just a hair away from death. Tony had been dragged into the living room where he was coming to and spitting angry when medics arrived. Now, Josie stood beside an ambulance, her wound already treated. She held his hand as he was strapped in a stretcher.
"More tests need to be taken. They're worried I may have a concussion."
"I’ll follow you to the hospital,” she said, not wanting to leave him.
"You hitching a ride on the scooter or golf cart?" He smiled. Josie was ready with a smart remark, but let it fade on her tongue. She was just happy they were alive to continue to rib each other. Bending, she softly kissed him before he was placed in the ambulance.
"JOSIE RENEE RIZZO!" her mom shouted, picking her way toward her. Uh-oh. "WHAT IS THIS I HEAR ABOUT YOU GOING AFTER A MURDERER? I COULDN'T BELIEVE MY EARS THAT MY DAUGHTER WOULD DO SOMETHING SO DANGEROUS. AND WHY WAS I THE LAST TO KNOW? HOW COME NO ONE TELLS ME ANYTHING?! AM I AN UNTRUSTWORTHY PERSON? HUH? YOU FEEL LIKE YOU CAN’T COME TALK TO YOUR OWN MOTHER?! IS THIS BECAUSE I TOLD YOU GROWING UP THAT EATING A BOWL OF SPINACH EVERYDAY WOULD MAKE YOU BECOME TALLER? IF SO, I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW IT'S JUST CRUEL TO HOLD A GRUDGE AGAINST THE WOMAN WHO CREATED YOU!"
Josie quickly stopped a paramedic from getting behind the steering wheel.
"Please, take me with you."
CHAPTER TEN
Two days later.
"You're in a nice spot, Ms. Rizzo."
"Thank you. There's nowhere else I'd rather be." Josie smiled. She sat at a picnic table the bistro had set up on its cobblestone patio. A path connected the patio to the lawn of the Greenville Lake. Being told she was in nice spot was the statement of the century.
Even nicer was sitting across from James Carthy, founder and lead editor of Forks and Knives magazine. James was in his late fifties but looked like he was in his mid-thirties. His dark hair was styled neatly. Dressed in a snazzy suit, James was accompanied by a woman, his assistant. Both were on the other side of the picnic table.
Before he arrived, Josie waited at the bistro's glass doors, like a kid waiting for the ice cream truck. And when he did, she nearly jumped out of her skin, not grasping that this was actually happening. Tony, upright and modeling a bandage above his ear, hugged her and told her she'd do great because she was like no other. Jelly knees, anyone?
Brad was there too, thrilled that their dreams were becoming reality, especially for him since the photographer of Surfer's Monthly wanted him in more shoots. Greta gave words of encouragement, plus promised to remain behind the counter, though Josie was aware she wanted to sneak a peek at the handsome older gentleman.
Rudy wasn’t the free spirit Greta hoped he'd be. Besides being a fair salsa dancer, Rudy exhibited the personality of a soggy slice of bread.
Greta's words. Not mine this time.
It was good that everything was back to normal. Her parents, no longer suspects, continued to practice their wacky ways. Richie and Veronica were currently giving being in a real relationship a try, without false motives. Josie assumed it was win-win for Richie. He genuinely liked Veronica but also liked keeping their mom on her toes.
As for Rob, Josie sensed something was bothering him. She speculated a woman was the cause of him getting his britches in a bunch. Whatever the reason, he wasn't saying.
Adam was behind bars. Not only was he being put away for two counts of murder but also the attempted murder of her, Tony, and Chris, was added to the lovely pile of charges.
Chris was discharged and returned to West Emily. She'd received a message from him at the hospital, thanking her and to be on the lookout for the next best veterinarian in the country.
She hoped so, since Petey wasn’t a big fan of his current doctor.
Josie came prepared with her laptop in case James wanted to view more of her blog. She had a file ready on her computer of the photos she had taken of her sweet and savory creations. On the screen he pointed to a post starring baked honey-lemon chicken breasts.
"What else did you season the chicken breast with?" James asked.
"A mixture of basil, oregano, thyme, and cilantro. After baking I garnished it with rosemary," she said.
"Ah, rosemary. Royalty of the herbs, in my opinion." He chuckled. "Ms. Rizzo, you definitely have a knack for bringing your words to life,” he said, becoming thoughtful. "I'd like to see your work on a four-page spread in our magazine, a large feature in which our readers can get their fill before the next issue. What do you think of that?"
"Oh, I...I think that’s awesome!" She beamed. James and his assistant laughed at her reaction.
"It's something I'd like to have you do. Your articles are animated, allowing readers to be right there in the kitchen with you," James said.
"Wow, thank you!"
"No, thank you, Ms. Rizzo. You're the very essence of what we need for Forks and Knives."
***
The meeting concluded with James instructing his assistant to schedule another meeting—this time at his office in West Emily—as well as a tour of the W. E. Press building.
"I've enjoyed our time together, Ms. Rizzo." He shook her hand once more. "I look forward to discussing more of your future with Forks and Knives."
"Me too." She smiled, bobbing her head. James and his assistant climbed into a shiny white car and drove away.
"How'd it go?" Tony joined her at the curb.
"Amazing…incredible. There are no words that can describe how I feel right now, well... except grateful. I’m very grateful."
Tony draped his arm around her shoulders. "I never doubted. Tonight we celebrate," he said, kissing her temple. "I made gelato," he whispered.
Best. Day. Ever
***
That night they did celebrate. But in a cheesy and marinara saucy type of way. Josie set down her ceramic dish containing Friday night dinner on the counter in Tony's kitchen. Petey wobbled into the living room where Jade was camped on her mammoth-sized dog bed. Josie peeled off the tinfoil from the rectangular dish. Steam swirled into the air.
"Mmm, smells amazing." Tony came up behind her, his hand cupping the curve of her waist.
"Thank you. I hope you love it."
"Depends. Am I looking at tomato sauce?"
"Yes."
"Mozzarella cheese?"
"Yes." She giggled.
"Then I'm going to love it. Red or white?” he asked, referring to the wine bottles on the table.
"Red."
He uncorked the wine while she plated their meal. She made lasagna zucchini boats. It was fun to cook as the zucchini really did look like boats carrying cheese, basil, and ground beef with sauce on a sea of marinara. The recipe was uploaded on her blog. Comments flooded in. including one from a certain someone:
Curvy Soul, You can never go wrong with lasagna, and this proves to be exceedingly and undeniably mouthwatering. My partner has already rushed to the market to buy ingredients. Looks like dinner is on you tonight ;)
—J. Carthy
Partner, huh? Greta was going to be disappointed.
"What’s for dessert?" Josie asked.
"You." Spinning her around, Tony picked her up and set her on the island counter, where he proceeded to place butterfly kisses on her face, then foregoing the sweet gesture to ravage her lips.
He left her wanting more when he went to go open the freezer. Josie's eyes widened at how packed it was with plastic containers, each ready to serve a different gelato flavor.