“I don’t want to go home,” Paul said.
“Where do you want to go?” Lacey asked.
“Take me to Brandy’s.”
“Really?”
“Please, Lace.”
Lacey spun a U-turn on the desolate road and headed up to Tulac. Paul didn’t say a word as he got out of the car.
When Lacey returned home, she collapsed on the couch and fell fast asleep.
The next morning, she turned on her computer and checked her bank balance, as if everything that had happened the previous day had just been a dream. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw her comical bank balance: $500,114.54.
She realized she could go anywhere. It was a soothing thought and yet she stayed put.
Lacey killed most of the morning watching bad television. While making a sandwich, she sorted through the collection of bills, catalogs, and coupons from distant towns until she noticed a blank white envelope in the mix. She cracked the seal and found a note inside, cut and pasted from newspaper and magazine print.
GEt oUT nOW or NEver
Lacey’s heart raced and within seconds her palms grew sweaty. She slipped on her shoes, grabbed her keys, and made a beeline for the door. She drove straight to the Mercer sheriff’s station.
This time when Doug saw her, he remained seated.
“Lacey.”
“Doug.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I need to see the sheriff.”
“I’ll see if he’s in.”
“He’s in,” Lacey said, striding down the hall and straight into Ed’s office.
The sheriff spun around when he heard the door creak. He put his hand over his heart and said, “You startled me.”
“We need to talk,” Lacey said, taking a seat across from his desk.
“You bring the letter?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s missing; at least I think it’s missing, or maybe I misplaced it.”
Ed leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on his desk. He closed his eyes for a long enough moment that Lacey thought he might have nodded off.
“Ed?”
“Yes?”
“You know why Egan was at Verducci’s yesterday, right?”
“I do.”
“He was meeting Doc Holland.”
“He was meeting Doc Holland because you arranged for the meeting.”
“I regret that now. But until we flush out Holland, these murders won’t stop.”
“What’s his motive, Lacey?”
“I don’t know.”
“And why are you in the middle of every single one of these crimes? Your ex-fiancé dies, and lo and behold a life insurance policy turns up in your name. Terry Jakes is murdered and you and your brother inherit some land that turns out to be worth a pretty penny. Paul discovers the body of Harry Lakes. And you discover the corpse of Doc Egan. Remind me, Lacey, why aren’t you my primary suspect?”
“After twenty-eight years, I cut off the head of my former fiancé and dump the rest of the body on my driveway? You don’t really believe that now, do you, Ed?”
Ed sighed and brushed back the flap of thinning hair that covered his bald spot. “No, I know you’re not a murderer, Lacey. But somehow all of this is connected to you.”
“We need to find Doc Holland.”
“We don’t need to do anything. I’ll handle the police work here. You just stay out of trouble. As for Doc Holland, he’s a dead end for now.”
“What do you mean?” Lacey replied.
“He’s a ghost, Lacey. I wouldn’t get your hopes up about finding him. He impersonated a doctor named Herman Holland for twenty years. Since we don’t know who he really is, he could be anyone or anywhere right now. And while I agree he’s suspicious, I’m not convinced he’s behind these crimes. Remember, he lived among us for twenty years without murdering anyone.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Lacey said.
“Excuse me?”
“I think Doc Holland killed my parents.”
Lacey sunk down in the leather chair and felt a sharp pain in her gut. She was out of theories other than the one that placed Doc Holland behind everything. And if Doc Holland couldn’t be found, then how would the murders ever be solved? She explained to Ed everything she knew about the WINO killings. She couldn’t tell if Ed believed her or not; all she could see was another layer of exhaustion settling over his features. For the first time since all this murdering began, Lacey started to believe that justice would never be served.
Lacey got to her feet and was heading out the door when she heard Deputy Doug mumbling to himself. She closed the door for privacy and whispered.
“Sheriff, what about Doug?”
“What about him?”
“Does he have an alibi for the nights in question?”
“Lacey, Doug’s not your killer.”
“Does he have an alibi?” Lacey insisted.
The sheriff consulted the back of his brain and said, “Sweetheart, you’re pulling at straws here. Doug was working. I bet we even got him on video surveillance.”
“Then why is he acting so suspiciously?” Lacey asked.
“Because, and let’s keep this between you and me, he’s off his meds.”
“Meds?” Lacey asked.
“Doug has some issues.”
“Sheriff, do you think it’s wise to hire an unstable man to carry a gun and act as town deputy?”
“I don’t see anyone else applying for the job, do you?” the sheriff asked.
“What am I supposed to do now?” Lacey asked.
“Take your money and run?” Ed suggested.
Lacey was starting to think that was a good idea. She rushed out of the station, hoping to avoid engaging Doug in any conversation, but that was a fool’s dream.
“Where’s the fire?” Doug said.
“I have to get to the store before it closes.”
“The store? Likely story.”
“We’re out of milk.”
“What do you need milk for?” Doug asked.
“Um, coffee?” Lacey replied, backing toward the door.
“Save your lies for the amateurs,” Doug said.
“Excuse me?” Lacey replied.
“You drink your coffee black.”
“And cereal.”
“Ever try orange juice? Works just fine in a pinch.”
“Okay. See you later, Doug,” Lacey said, practically racing out of the office.
When Lacey returned home, she started packing. If she couldn’t find the murderer, she’d have to leave town soon. At least before Big Marv learned that his land was made of plain old dirt.
Later that evening, she heard the front door unlock and the sound of feet scuffling and unbridled laughter traveling through the house. Paul and Brandy entered with an open bottle of champagne.
Paul shouted Lacey’s name. Then Brandy echoed him. Lacey sheepishly entered the living room.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Brandy chugged straight from the bottle, then passed it to Paul, who took another healthy gulp.
“We’re celebrating,” Paul said, offering the bottle to his sister.
“What are we celebrating?” Lacey asked.
“Show some manners,” Brandy said to Paul as she scavenged the kitchen for a proper glass. There were no champagne flutes to be found, so she grabbed a coffee mug and drained the bottle into it.
Brandy passed the mug to Lacey.
“We’re engaged,” Paul said.
“Engaged?” Lacey asked, as if she didn’t understand the meaning of the word.
“Yeah, we’re gonna get hitched,” Brandy replied.
“Show her the ring,” Paul said.
Brandy flashed something that could only have come out of a gumball machine, made from plastic and an unidentifiable metal that would eventually turn her finger green.
“Nice ring,” Lacey said.
&nb
sp; “We have to go to Redding for the real thing,” Paul replied, waiting for his sister to say something nice.
Lacey could feel all eyes on her, so she said the only thing she could.
“Congratulations.”
Lacey then downed the entire mug of champagne and brought out the whiskey. A bad mix, no doubt, but after the day she’d had, the only option.
That night, Lacey’s mind kept working at the mystery even as her body slept. By morning a new theory had formed. She called Sook to confirm her worst fears.
“What happens if I die?” Lacey asked.
“I’d be heartbroken,” Sook replied.
“I mean, what would happen to my money if I were to die suddenly.”
“Do you have a will?”
“No.”
“Then it would go to your closest relative. Paul.”
“Say I die, Paul gets my money, and then Paul dies. What happens then?”
“I take it Paul doesn’t have a will.”
“No.”
“I’m not sure what would happen then,” Sook replied.
“What if Paul was married?”
“Then everything would go to his wife.”
Lacey opened her nightstand drawer to make sure the gun was where she left it.
“You still there, Lacey?” Sook asked.
“I think I know who our killer is.”
NOTES:
Dave,
I assure you there was nothing passive-aggressive in my incrimination of Brandy. It just fits, if you think about it.
I’m too tired to make threats, suggestions, or even to offer encouragement. I don’t know what it is about us that makes working together so painful.
I’d like you to take this next chapter seriously and work within the confines of what we have already written. Of course, you’ll do whatever you want. While you’re thinking of ways to screw with me, remember this: Your next chapter is your last.
On a happy note, we’re in the home stretch, Dave. Soon we will be free of each other.
Lisa
Lisa,
Our troubles don’t seem like such a mystery to me. We have different values and standards. For example, is an anonymous note composed of letters cut out of magazines and newspapers really the best we can do? What’s next, THE KILLER WAS CALLING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE?
Since you haven’t taken up any of the leads I established in my last chapter, I guess I’ll have to lay everything out myself. I may not have the luxury of the final word, but I have a feeling I’m not going to need it.
Dave
CHAPTER 30
After the call from Sook, Lacey had realized that Paul wouldn’t be in real danger until he married Brandy—or until Brandy found out he knew her secret. So she let the couple sleep off their champagne. She’d give Paul the news when his fiancée was at a safe distance.
Paul woke with a smile on his face and Irving purring on his chest. Next to him was a note from Brandy to come up to Tulac whenever he got up. They were supposed to spend the day planning their wedding. Hangover aside, he felt great, and he knew it wasn’t just the engagement or the Babalato windfall. Lacey’s half-packed suitcase meant she was finally ready to give up her investigations and skip town. He looked forward to the day he could stop worrying about her.
Marv Babalato might be a problem when he discovered the truth about the property, Paul thought, but that would take a while. And even then, what could Marv do? He’d bought the place under a fraudulent pretense. The more Paul dealt with him, the more he seemed like a garden-variety opportunist, not a homicidal avenger. Irving half opened his eyes, and after a while, Paul got up.
Brandy was out when he got to her place, so he used the key she’d given him the night before. A note on her TV said she’d be back by noon, but it was already almost one. He started worrying about her, and before long he was worrying about everything. Was he crazy to think everything was fine? Only a few weeks ago, she was pretending to be an entirely different person. Was he rushing into things? On an impulse he went into her bedroom and sat down at her computer. Her e-mail account was password-protected, but he nailed it on the third try, with vonshtupp, a reference to her favorite Blazing Saddles character.46
He opened her Sent folder and started scanning for the dates he’d been collecting alibis for, starting with the pre-dawn hours of September fourth. He ignored the e-mails from earlier that evening and found three after midnight. Around one a.m. there was one to her friend Candi about how tortured she was about deceiving him with the ditz routine. “I think he might be the one,” it said. Paul felt queasy as he moved on to the next message Brandy had sent:
Hey 0.5 bro,
Where are you? Haven’t heard from you in a while. I hope you know I’m not mad at you. Just let me know you’re OK if you get a chance. Love, B
Paul checked the time stamp: 2:33 a.m. Brandy had been home when Hart’s body was moved, and apparently had no idea he was already dead. Then the monitor’s reflection darkened.
“Find what you were looking for?” Brandy said.
Paul swiveled on her chair to face her.
“I guess you’re also wondering,” she continued, “whether your fiancée also killed your best friend and his cousin. And then, just because she was getting a taste for it, took a knife to the new doctor.”
“Brandy—”
“Let me break it down for you, Paul. The Wednesday when Harry Lakes was shot I was with your sister. Then this Monday, when Doc Egan was killed, I was at the monthly Quorum Group meeting over in Easternville.” Quorum was her brainiac club—a fact Paul had discovered, he realized with shame, during an earlier snooping session.
She went to her desk and showed him the flyer.
“I can download the meeting minutes if you like,” she continued coolly. “You can read all about my ideas on autopoiesis. As for Terry’s tower, I have no alibi beyond my utter uselessness with tools. So I guess I must have done that one.”
“I’m so sorry,” Paul said. “I’m just … everything might be so perfect, I guess it almost feels too good to be true. Maybe I don’t feel like I deserve all this.”
“You do,” Brandy said.
Paul had expected a more sustained tongue-lashing. “Uh, you’re not mad?” he asked.
“Well, I did pretend to be a low-mental throughout the beginning of our relationship. Maybe now we can call it even?”
Paul wasn’t buying it. “You’re not miffed that your fiancé figured out your password and went through your e-mail?”
Brandy sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands.
“Oh shit,” said Paul.
“I do have a confession to make,” she said to the floor. Her voice was shaking. “I can’t marry you until you know the truth. And you probably won’t want to marry me after you do.”
“What is it? We can work it out, no matter what it is. Please, talk to me.”
“I want you to know I had the best possible reasons for killing them,” she said. “You have to believe that.”
Paul managed two words: “Killing who?”
She was sobbing now. “Your plants.”
When he’d recovered, Paul got up and embraced her.
“I just want better things for you,” she said into his chest. “I don’t want us to have to lie to anyone about anything.”
“Funny way to go about it,” said Paul, trying to muster some indignation. He failed.
“It’s just a job,” he said. “We’ll figure it out. We have plenty of time, plenty of money, plenty of options. For now, how about this: Next time you want me to do something, tell me.”
“And the next time you want to know something about me,” Brandy said, “ask me.”
“Deal.”
“You know, it’s strange,” Brandy said. “When Lacey was grilling me about my alibis, she didn’t seem to realize that she and I were actually together during the Harry Lakes killing.”
“She’s not the investigator she thinks she is.�
�� Paul replied.
Later they went to work on the guest list for the wedding. It was shaping up to be a paltry collection of locals, some of whom were probably too freaked out by now to even leave their houses. Both Paul and Brandy started wondering whether a visit to a courthouse with a witness or two was a better idea. Their planning was interrupted by the telephone.
Brandy picked up. “Hello? That was fast. Give it to me. No, you don’t need to explain variable number tandem repeats. Just give me the results. Really? Are you sure? No, I don’t know what it means. Thanks, Max. I’ll be in touch.”
She hung up the phone and jotted down a sequence of numbers below their wedding list.
“Who was that?” Paul asked.
“Max,” Brandy replied. “A friend from Quorum Group. He’s the guy from the crime lab.”
“What’s going on?”
“Call Lacey. She’s going to want to hear this.”
An hour later, Lacey was sitting on Brandy’s plush pink couch, tapping her foot silently on the shag carpet, waiting for Brandy and Paul to come out of Brandy’s bedroom.
“You said you had a break in the case,” Lacey finally called out. “Spill it.”
Paul and Brandy were giggling when they entered the living room and squeezed into a loveseat across from Lacey.
“You do it,” a beaming Paul told Brandy.
Brandy cleared her throat. “Paul said you got the envelope from Doc Holland, a.k.a. Doc Egan’s father, just a week ago. But Sheriff Ed seems to believe Holland was the guy in the exploding plane. I knew both of those couldn’t be true; I wanted to know if either one was. So I tested the envelope against the DNA from the crash site.”
Lacey’s foot stopped tapping and burrowed deep into the shag. She didn’t know where to start—the stolen envelope or Brandy’s sudden forensic expertise. She went with the latter. “How the hell did you get DNA from the crash site?” she finally said.
“I didn’t. My friend Max works at the crime lab,” Brandy replied.
“I see. How convenient,” Lacey said.
“What can I say? He owed me a favor. So I gave Max the envelope you received from Holland. He just called with the results.”
“I thought DNA testing took weeks,” Lacey replied.
“I put a rush on it,” Brandy replied.47
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