5 Death Catches A Killer

by Teresa Watson

  I held up my left hand, asking them to be quiet. “No ring, folks,” I said, showing them my bare ring finger. “Mother is the one that got married.”

  There were murmurs of disappointment as I took a seat in one of the back booths. Maddie, the café owner, brought me a glass of sweet tea. “Boy, you really killed the mood in here,” she said as she put the glass down. “They’ve been making bets on which man you married.”

  “Really?” I replied. “And who was the odds on favorite?”

  “Jake,” she said, causing me to choke on my tea. Frankly, I think I would have choked if she had said T.J.

  She pounded me on the back for a minute. “So Amelia got hitched, did she? Well, good for her! About dang time, if you ask me. She’s been alone too long. Who is the groom?”

  “I have no clue. She didn’t give me any details. Just called to say she had gotten married and was about to board a ship for a honeymoon cruise.”

  “I didn’t even know she had been dating anyone.”

  “Me either.”

  Maddie pulled out her order pad. “You want the usual?” I nodded. “I’ll have it for you in a few minutes.”

  Jake came in as Maddie walked away. He sat down across from me. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.”

  “Are you going to the office today?”

  “I have an errand to run first, but I should be in later.”

  “What kind of errand?”

  “Personal.”

  “Does it have anything to do with the box you received yesterday?”

  “I don’t see where it is any of your business, Jake.”

  “So you did open it. What was in it?”

  “Again, none of your business.”

  “You’re getting involved in this mess, aren’t you?”

  “I haven’t made a decision yet.”

  He stared at me for a moment. “I think you have. I think you are going to help her, despite everything we said to you yesterday.”

  “So what if I do?”

  “I want you to talk to T.J. It might help keep her, and you, alive.”

  “Assuming she wants to give up.”

  “She has information on a lot of people. She could make a deal for a better sentence.”

  “Every time the police have caught her, she has managed to get away. That tells me she has no intention of staying in custody for long even if she gives herself up.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “Assuming I’m going to help her.”

  He sighed. “You have this warped sense of loyalty to her; why, I have no clue. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Please let me help you.”

  I saw the concern written on his face, but I was still hesitant to let him help. Someone was trying to kill Debra, and I didn’t want any of my family and friends in harm’s way. Heck, for that matter, I didn’t want to be in harm’s way!

  “I will make you a deal,” I told him. “If I find something in the safe deposit box that totally freaks me out, I will come to you for help.”

  “What safe deposit box?”

  “The only thing in that box yesterday was a key, the name of a bank and the box number.”

  “That’s the errand you have to run this morning?” I nodded. “Alright, I can agree to that, if you will agree to go to T.J. if it is something life-threatening.”

  I couldn’t think of anything that would be in the box that was life-threatening, so I agreed.

  Boy, was I wrong.

  Chapter 8

  The bank was located on Main Street, about a half a mile from the town square. At one time, it had been the old red brick schoolhouse, but in the 1950s it was converted into a bank. A huge vault had been installed in the back, surrounded by 6 feet of concrete. Several bank robbers had tried to break into it, and the only thing they got was 10 years in the slammer.

  Despite several attempts by Jake, begging included, I went to the bank by myself. As I walked in, Angel Ramirez, the receptionist, smiled and waved at me as she finished up a phone call. “Lizzie!” she said, getting up to give me a hug. “It’s so good to see you! How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Look at you!” I replied, placing a hand on her big baby bump. “Number 3, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, rubbing her belly, “and the last, too.”

  “I seem to remember you saying that the last time you were pregnant. Boy or girl?” Angel and her husband, Richard, were the proud parents of two rambunctious, adorable boys: Richard, Jr., 5, and Manuel, 3.

  “A girl!” Angel smiled. “I am so excited!”

  “That’s fantastic!” I said, giving her another hug. “I am so happy for you.”

  “When are you going to settle down and have a few kids of your own?” Angel said, slowly sinking into her chair.

  “I have to find Mr. Right first.”

  “What about that cute guy you work with at the newspaper?”

  “Jake? No thanks. Not my type.”

  “If he has money, which I know for a fact he does, then who cares if he’s your type?”

  “I want someone who makes me just as happy as Richard makes you.”

  “Oh, so you’re planning on being an old maid?” Angel laughed.

  “Very funny,” I said. “I need to get into a safe deposit box.”

  “I didn’t know you had one.”

  “I didn’t either until last night.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Me either, quite frankly, but I have the key right here,” I replied, digging it out of the front pocket of my jeans.

  Angel took it from me and looked at it. “This is definitely one of ours. Let me look it up.” She turned to the computer and started typing. “Hm, you’re right. According to our records, this is your box. Weird. Do you want to take a look at it?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She turned around to look for someone. “Kyle, could you take this customer down to the boxes, please?” she said, handing him my key before she turned back to me. “He’ll take good care of you. Let’s get together for a girl’s night out, just you, me and Trixie.”

  “Absolutely! We’ll spoil you rotten before the baby comes,” I replied, giving her a hug.

  I followed Kyle to the vault. He stopped in front some large boxes, inserting the key into one near the bottom. He pulled it out, carried it out of the vault and into a small room just to the right. “Let me know when you are done,” he said as he left, closing the door behind him.

  I stared at the box for a minute before I opened the lid and looked inside. There were several things inside: a smaller box, two large manila envelopes, a cell phone and a white envelope with my name on it. I picked it up, sat down and opened it.

  Dear Lizzie: If you are reading this, then obviously something has gone seriously wrong and I have reached out to you for help. By now, you know that I have done some rather unpleasant things…that’s really a mild understatement, isn’t it? Killing people for a living is not something every little girl wants to be when they grow up, but I’ve always marched to my own drummer. I can’t complain too much. I got paid well.

  I didn’t start out killing people. Believe it or not, I used to work with the F.B.I. That’s a shocker, isn’t it? In fact, T.J.’s father used to be my partner when I first started. I loved my job; tracking down criminals, the thrill of the hunt, and the joy when we finally caught them. One day, it all changed. One small incident had a major impact on my life, and I left the Bureau.

  Going rogue isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be, trust me. I hate the fact that I haven’t been able to settle down, raise a family, and just be happy. I guess it wasn’t in the cards for me. Earline kept in touch with my mother, despite Amos’ strict orders that Mother never contact them again. Despite his best efforts, Earline kept up with everything that went on in town, especially where it concerned you. Sounds rather stalkerish, doesn’t it? You and your mother are the only family I have. I always wanted a bunch of siblings, but my mothe
r never had any more children.

  Do you remember the small white bear you received after your father’s funeral? I sent it to you. The scholarship you received for college? I arranged that for you. Hey, I had the money, and I wanted it to go to a good cause. I knew I couldn’t offer it to you face to face, or tell you how I got it; technically, you could call it blood money, considering how I got it.

  Enough with the trip down memory lane; let’s get down to business, shall we? I strongly recommend that you don’t open the small box until you get home. There’s a gun in it, and the people in the lobby might think you were trying to rob the place. The two bigger envelopes contain money and some paperwork I need to get out of the country. Use the cell phone to send me a message at the number written at the bottom of this letter. I’ll know you have my things and will make arrangements to get them from you. Do not use that phone for anything else.

  One last thing: T.J. isn’t a bad man. He’s just doing his job. It just so happens that his job is to catch me. It’s more of a personal vendetta for him. I’m not going to tell you why; that has to be something he does.

  Watch your back. Like I said at the beginning, something has gone wrong, and people are looking for me, which means they might use you to get to me, if they figure out our connection. Use the gun in the box if you have to.

  Debra

  Well, isn’t this a fine kettle of fish?

  Chapter 9

  I placed the envelopes and cell phone in my purse, picked up the box and walked out. I let Kyle know that I was done with the box as I left.

  I sat in the truck, wondering what to do. If what Debra said was true, then T.J. could have a very personal reason for wanting to capture her. Could this personal reason be clouding his judgment? The first thing I needed to do was find out what happened to his father.

  Starting the truck, I headed for the newspaper office. As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw Jake’s Porsche in its usual spot. I parked next to it, grabbed my purse and the box before heading inside.

  “Lizzie! Just the person I was looking for!” Ellen said as I walked in the door. “Gladys Norwell wants us to write a front page story about the foundation fund raiser in April.”

  “Sounds like a great idea. What’s the problem?”

  “She wants me to do it!”

  “Technically, this falls under your society and city department, Ellen.”

  “Please don’t make me do this, Lizzie. When I wrote the story last year, she had a cow because I had the audacity to say that the committee had vetoed one of her ideas. You know how she hates to have anyone disagree with her.”

  “Did you write anything that was a lie?”

  “No.”

  “Did Dale have a problem with it?”

  “No, he thought it was hilarious that I mentioned it.”

  “Look, it sounds to me like whatever happened last year has been forgotten. Perhaps she thought you did a good job and wants to make sure that you are the one who writes it up this year. Just cover the fund raiser, and if something happens that you think it newsworthy, write it up, even if it embarrasses her or any other member of the club. Our job is to report things, so just do it.” I patted her left arm. “You are great at your job, Ellen. Don’t let old Bristle britches get to you.”

  Ellen laughed. “Bristle britches. Can I use that in my article?”

  “Not unless you want her breathing down your neck after the story comes out.”

  I continued on to my office, where I found Dale sitting behind the desk. I stopped short. “I’m not used to seeing anyone else behind that desk.”

  “I had to adjust the chair yesterday; it was set for a short person.”

  “Gee, I wonder why,” I said, putting my stuff on one of the visitors’ chairs. “So are you jumping back in with both feet?”

  He scratched his chin. “I think so. I’ve missed chasing after a story, yelling at the staff, all that fun stuff you’ve been doing the last few months.”

  “I haven’t yelled at anyone. You’ve got a great group out there. I didn’t have to do much of anything, to be honest.”

  “Oh, so I overpaid you, then?” Dale teased.

  “Very funny. I guess I better find another place to work, since you’ve taken over the office again.”

  “There are plenty of desks out there. Just pick one until we can make other arrangements.”

  “What other arrangements?”

  “Just something I’m trying to work out. I’ll let you know the details later.” He pointed to the box. “What’s in there?”

  “Yeah…um…”

  “What?”

  “It’s…complicated.”

  “Is there a printable story in this complication?”

  “Possibly, but not yet. There are still some details to work out. Where’s Jake? I saw the Porsche out there.”

  “I think he went over to the café to get some coffee.”

  “I’ll wait until he comes back.”

  “At least give me a hint.”

  “Debra Cosgrove.”

  Dale rolled his eyes and sighed. “Isn’t this where I got off the crazy train a few months ago?”

  “You may have gotten off, but the ride kept going.”

  “What is it this time?”

  I hesitated, wondering just how much to tell him. Debra had caused a lot of problems in his life. When Dale was a young reporter, living in Chicago, he received some death threats over a story he was working on. Unfortunately, his young daughter and wife had been caught in the middle. Their daughter died, and his wife, Dorothy, ended up in a sanitarium for years. Years later, Debra helped her escape. Dorothy travelled to Brookdale, wreaking havoc on Dale’s quiet life by killing a man and framing Dale for the murder. When she took both of us hostage, she was killed in a shootout with T.J. Dale had suddenly disappeared and left me in charge of the newspaper, hiring Jake to come help me run it.

  “What has she done this time?” Dale asked.

  “Let’s wait for Jake so I only have to go through this once.”

  “Go through what once?” Jake said as he entered the office with a coffee cup in his hand.

  “We need to find information on T.J.’s dad,” I told him.

  “Why?”

  “Because I have a feeling that his father is dead, and that Debra had something to do with it.”

  Chapter 10

  They both looked at me like I was crazy, until I read the letter to them. Dale whistled and shook his head. “So you think that T.J. is following his own personal agenda with regards to Debra.”

  “I have no idea. I don’t even know if T.J. knows that Debra used to be his dad’s partner. She must have been pretty young when she joined the F.B.I.”

  “Minimum age is 23,” Jake said.

  “Do we know for sure how old she is?” Dale said. No one said anything. “So you’re telling me that no one has ever bothered to do any research on this woman?”

  “You’re talking about someone who has spent years covering her tracks,” I pointed out. “When she moved here two, three years ago, it was probably the longest she had spent in one place since she was a kid.”

  “If she worked for the Feds, there will be a record,” Jake replied. “They don’t let just anyone in there. There are strict requirements and psychological tests that she had to pass.”

  “Obviously she did,” I said. “But we need to know what happened that made her go rogue.”

  “I can get in touch with my contacts, see what they can dig up.”

  “You take care of that while Lizzie and I do some digging on T.J.,” Dale said.

  Jake looked down at the box in the chair. “Did you get this out of the safe deposit box?” he asked me. I nodded. “Do you know what’s in it?”

  “A gun.”

  “What?!” they said in unison.

  “G-U-N, gun. A thing that goes bang, bang.”

  “Don’t be snarky,” Jake said, picking up the box. “What kind of gun?”

>   “I have no clue. I haven’t opened it yet, and even if I had, I wouldn’t know what kind it was.”

  “Is it alright with you if I open it?”

  “Be my guest.”

  We watched him open the box and pull out a soft gun case. He unzipped it, laying it flat on Dale’s desk. “Whoa, this is a Sig Sauer P226R Tactical. Pretty nice gun.”

  “What’s this?” I said, pointing to a small, black barrel.

  “A suppressor. This type of Sig has threads on the end of the barrel that allow you to attach one. Basically, she could walk up to someone in a crowd, shoot them, and walk away without anyone hearing the shot.” He looked inside the box again. “There are four clips in here. What are you going to do with this?”

  “Put it back in the box. I’ll take it out to Trixie’s club. She has a safe in her office. I’ll leave it in there.”

  “I do have one question,” Dale said. “Have you called her yet?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Jake wants me to get T.J. involved. After reading her letter, I want to find out all I can before I decide what to tell him. If I’m going to try and talk her into giving up, I need to know if she’s even going to survive the trip to Washington.”

  “You really think T.J. would kill her between here and there?”

  I thought about it a moment. “To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t want to find out, do you?”

  Jake and I agreed to meet at Trixie’s club in an hour. I decided to go out there and put the gun in the safe because I didn’t feel comfortable having it in my possession.

  As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a bum near the back of the building. He was probably looking for the leftover food that Trixie’s staff left for the homeless people at the end of every night.

  I parked near the side entrance, picked up the box and my purse, and got out. Just as I got to the door, someone grabbed me from behind, covered my mouth with their hand before I could scream, and dragged me to the back of the building.

  Chapter 11

  “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” the man said. “I’m going to remove my hand, and I don’t want you to scream, do you understand?”