“Yeah, I know. No ransom. The videos Chuck’s been allowed to make.”
“Exactly. Give us time. Please, Jay.”
He said nothing more, but his jaw muscles clenched, and he fisted one hand, which he pounded into the other.
Eyes on his face, she studied the uncertainty displayed. Would he leave the team?
His phone rang. One check of the screen, and he jumped out of the truck.
She jerked as he slammed the door. Uh-oh. Who would generate that kind of reaction?
When he returned, he sat on the edge of the seat and answered her unasked question. “That was Georgia, a friend of Kate’s. She tried to…I need to see her.”
Kate. Since Lela knew about his former fiancée, why did her name rip a hole in her heart? “You plan to see her now?” Surely, she wouldn’t have to accompany him?
“Yes. Please drop me at my apartment. I need my truck.”
Whew! Dodged that bullet. “Sure. No problem. Until IRO gives us additional suspects to investigate or clues to follow, my taxi service is available.” She started the engine, entered the flow of traffic, and followed Jay’s directions to his apartment.
Minutes passed before Jay tapped her arm. “I won’t take off. Sorry about my impatience.”
“I understand. We’re a better team when we work together.”
“Yeah.” His quiet voice was at odds with his erect posture.
“Are you all right? Is Kate in trouble?”
His shrug provided no answers.
Forty seconds of silence while Lela followed the line of vehicles making a right turn.
“I don’t know what’s up with Kate, but I’d rather not discuss her right now.” He tapped his fingers on the center console. “So, a lot has happened since we had our talk after the incident with Donna. Was I able to help you find resolution?”
He probably meant to divert her attention away from his bid to leave, and from his forthcoming visit with Kate. Muscles snarled in her stomach anyway. Why’d he go there? She was content to let their discussion about her past life and his spiritual answers stew on the back burner for a long time. But his continual scrutiny ate at her resolve. “Your words are marinating in my…” Her flippant response stuck in her throat. Truth be told, his words were taking root in her soul, and she didn’t know how to handle the intense emotions that bubbled close to the surface. Glib answers were her usual response when dealing with complicated matters. But she couldn’t bring herself to continue in that vein. “Yes, thank you. Please give me time.”
He patted her arm. “Good. New ideas take time. Change is a process, a journey. Remember, I’ll always be available to listen or to answer questions.”
She appreciated his words, but since the phone call from Kate, they’d been clipped and cold.
Neither spoke again until she parked outside his building.
“Thanks. I’ll return to Beth’s as soon as I can. Call me if you receive any info from Bowen.”
“I will.” Lela appraised his multi-storied apartment building for a moment and then drove away. Could Jay’s odd behavior mean he wanted to renew his relationship with Kate?
That was his prerogative. Had nothing to do with Lela.
Or so she made herself believe.
38
Images of the men in Lela’s life flashed on the screen in her mind, sorted into two columns. Worthy of her consideration and…not. Jay flipped from one to the other on a frequent basis. Would the visit to Kate clarify his relationship with the woman once and for all? Stopped at a red light, Lela contemplated her next move. Return to Beth’s, or—
Since she hadn’t eaten lunch, she stopped at her condo where she microwaved a small pizza, and ate it while collecting clean clothes to supplement the contents of her go-bag. On an impulse, she selected one of her dresses and threw in a bag of seldom-used cosmetics.
With Agents Pam and Manny at the La Jolla house, she had no reason to return right away. Why not fulfill her mother’s request? She’d try to locate Freddy and learn why he stalked Margie. The distraction would give Lela a reason to shove Jay out of her mind.
Back in her truck, she retrieved Freddy’s wallet from the glove compartment. Among the items in the brown leather, she discovered a Barn Owl Motel keycard. That was easy. A phone call confirmed Freddy was staying there.
She drove to the motel where the young male clerk ogled her, mouth gaping.
Fluttering her eyelashes, she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Hi.” She shot a glance at his nametag. “Carl, I need you to do me a big favor.” She licked her lips.
Carl almost drooled. “Sure. Be glad to help.”
“My little brother ran away from home last week.” Better that lie than asking about a boyfriend. “I see his car in your lot.” Another flip of her hair. “Please tell me what room he’s in.”
“I’m…I’m not supposed to give out that kind of inform—”
“Please, Carl. Our mother is frantic.” She leaned forward and traced the outline of a tattooed eagle on his forearm. “I’ll be ever so grateful.”
Carl sneaked a peek over his shoulder. “All right. What’s his name?”
“Freddy Ellis.”
Turning to the computer on his left, he punched a series of keys. “Room 120.”
“Thank you, Carl. I’ll remember your kindness.” Lela gave him her biggest smile and hurried out the office.
The sixties-style, one-story building flanked the half-empty parking lot on three sides. Lela knocked on Freddy’s door and stepped away from the peephole.
The lock grated. The door opened. Dressed in denim cut-offs, a baggy T-shirt, and his long hair loose, Freddy gawked at her.
Lela shoved the door hard, sending the young man stumbling backward. He landed on his rump. She shut the door and set her feet shoulder-width apart, hand hovering over her holster.
A stale, musty odor blended with aromas emanating from scraps of fried chicken in a to-go container on the desk.
“Stay on the floor, Freddy, and I won’t hurt you.”
“You again. How’d you find me?”
She drew his wallet from her pocket and threw it on the bed.
“I wondered where I’d lost it.” He backed up to the wall and sat, resting his elbows on his bent knees. “What do you want?”
“Same question as before. Why are you stalking Margie Knox?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“You don’t deny it?” Lela leaned against the small desk and folded her arms.
“I’ve been following her. Not stalking her.”
“Why?”
“Who are you? Did she hire you or something?”
“Or something. I’m not a cop, but I will get answers from you.” She flipped her vest open, revealing the shoulder holster.
Hands out like stop signs, he paled. “OK. OK. I have nothing to hide. She killed my father, and I’ve been following her to…I don’t know what I expected to find. Evidence? Confront her?”
“Your dad was a barber, correct?”
His eyes widened and he nodded. “In Solana Beach for twenty-five years. A one-man operation except when I helped out.”
“Can I ask you questions about him?”
The young man nodded again.
“What was his cause of death?”
“He, um, fell down the stairs at home and broke his neck.”
“Why do you blame Margie for what sounds like an accident?”
Freddy rested his head against the wall. “Are you sure you want to hear all this? It’s gonna take time to explain.”
“I’m in no hurry.”
“Neither am I.” He straightened his legs. “I worked in the shop on weekends and filled in during the week when my college courses allowed. Mrs. Knox came into our place several times. We only cut men’s hair, which made her visits strange. First, she asked if she could display a yard sale sign in the window. Dad agreed. A few days later, she brought a pile of magazines for the waiting area. After that,
she dropped by frequently to chat. The next weekend she gave us a plate of cookies.” He cocked his head and smirked. “They were pretty good.”
“Huh? I thought you would say they were poisoned.”
“No, but the chocolates were.”
“Whoa. Back up. What chocolates?”
Freddy pointed to the bed. “Do you mind if I get up? The floor’s kinda hard.”
“Fine.” He seemed intent on providing details of his father’s death, but Lela kept alert to any sudden movements, especially after noting the defined muscles in his legs and arms. No wonder he’d escaped her hold on him the other night.
Settled among the pillows, he continued. “One Tuesday afternoon, I was in the shop by myself. Mrs. Knox entered carrying a heart-shaped red container, although it wasn’t close to Valentine’s Day. She opened the box and showed me the dark chocolates. Then she asked if Dad was in, and when I said no, she closed the box and left, taking the chocolates with her.”
He rammed his fist into the mattress. “Dad died the following day. The next week, when I entered the shop, I found a red box, with one chocolate in it. I like soft centers, so I squished it and when green, syrupy goo oozed out, I ate it. Tasted great. By the time I got home, I felt nauseous.” His skin acquired a gray hue in the soft lamplight. “Weeks after Dad’s death, I read about the dangers of antifreeze, an odorless liquid with a sweet taste. Reminded me of the candy in the Valentine box. I found a container of anti-freeze in the garage. Poured a little into a bowl. It looked like the center of that chocolate.” He pressed the base of his neck and gagged. “Sorry.”
“Did you tell the police about your suspicions?”
“Of course, but by then Dad had been cremated and the red box was long gone.”
“Why didn’t Margie recognize you?”
Smoothing his mustache, he said, “Back then I had short hair and was clean-shaven.”
“Carry on.”
“I researched the effects of ethylene glycol, the poison in antifreeze. As little as a third of a cup can be lethal. Within thirty minutes of ingestion, the kidneys can be damaged. The central nervous system is affected. Slurred speech, dizziness. Like you’re drunk. When I questioned Mother, she said Dad was acting weird when he came home that day. She accused him of stopping at the local bar, which he denied.”
“And then he fell down the stairs?”
Tears on the young man’s cheek tightened Lela’s throat. No surprise Freddy wanted answers from Margie.
She withdrew a business card from her pocket and tossed it on the bed. “Thank you for telling me about your dad. I believe you. In my opinion, Margie might be involved, but please do me a favor. Leave her alone. Let me see what I can do.”
“Lela Ortiz.” He read from the card. “International Retrieval Organization. Never heard of you guys.” Standing, he said, “Well, Miss Ortiz, I’ll gladly leave Margie Knox to you.”
“Give me your cell number. I’ll contact you when I have information.”
He wrote on the notepad next to the lamp, tore off a page, and handed it to her. “Thanks. I appreciate any help you can provide.”
As Freddy had related the events that led up to his father’s death, previous research Lela conducted on Margie swarmed through her mind. “Humor me, please. What was your dad’s full name, how old was he, and do you have any siblings? I’m also assuming he was Anglo.”
“Anglo?” His brow furrowed. “Strange question. His name was Larry Nigel Ellis. He was forty-four. I’m an only child, and yes, he was white.”
“Thanks. That helps a lot.” Lela closed the door and ran to her pickup. Laptop open, she checked details of the barbers who had died in Oceanside, Carlsbad, and Encinitas. They were all Anglo, in their mid-forties. Each had only one child—a son.
39
No amount of honking persuaded the vehicles ahead to move faster than slugs. Jay sighed for the umpteenth time and inched the truck forward. His departure had already been delayed by emergency vehicles blocking the parking garage exit. Ten long minutes passed before the fire engine and ambulance departed.
Jay checked his watch. How long ago had Georgia called? Her words ricocheted through his mind. Kate. Overdose. Pills. She’s alive and wants to see you.
How could he ignore Kate’s attempt at suicide? Only one answer—he couldn’t. Half an hour later, he parked in the hotel garage. Heart in his throat, he sprinted up a flight of stairs and located Kate’s room. Poised to knock, he hesitated. If Kate had taken an overdose of pills, wouldn’t she be in the hospital?
What was really going on?
He knocked and entered when Georgia opened the door. Surprised to see Kate ensconced on the sofa wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, he let out a long breath. She was alive.
“I’m so glad to see you, darling.” Kate’s weak voice shouted a warning to Jay. As did her immaculate hair, perfect makeup, and pink lipstick.
Would she fake a suicide attempt to garner sympathy and a second chance with him? Surely not.
“Georgia, why don’t you go downstairs and buy me that magazine we talked about.”
When the cooperative friend left the room, Kate motioned for Jay to join her on the sofa, patting the space close to her bended knees. “I need to talk to you.”
Instead of falling in line, Jay drew an armchair to the sofa and sat. “What games are you playing, Kate? Your friend told me you, uh, took an overdose.”
She had the gall to blush. “Oh, that. It was nothing. I was tired and forgot I’d already taken a sleeping pill. Next thing, Georgia comes barging in and wants to call 911.”
“Why didn’t she?”
“I told her not to.”
“But she called me. From your phone.”
The blush further infused Kate’s face. She hung her head for a split second. “She’s a good friend.”
The ploy worked. A call supposedly from Kate, and then Georgia’s frantic voice uttering the word overdose, and he’d rushed over, without thinking. Jay rose and paced to the wall and back. He couldn’t believe Kate would stoop this low. She knew about Vicky’s suicide and probably figured Jay could not ignore her attempt. How could he have been so wrong about her?
Seated on the edge of the chair now, he clasped his hands and looked her square in the eyes. “Kate, I’m sorry you thought this ruse would bring us back together. I will always be available in a real crisis, and I’ll pray for you. But our relationship is over. End of story.”
She returned his gaze for a couple of seconds then lowered her head. Did a trace of regret wash across her face? That should have made him feel better, but it didn’t.
Although outwardly composed, the straight line of her lips hinted at inner angst.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine.” Her smile lingered a brief second or two.
“I’m sorry, Kate. I—”
“Hush. Must you always talk things to death?” Peeling the blanket off exposed her black silky negligée. She set her feet on the floor and smoothed her hair. “I had to try one last time. You win.”
Mouth dry, Jay licked his lips. That’s it? He’d won, but why did the victory smart like a sucker punch to the gut?
“Georgia will be back any minute. You can leave now, Jay.”
“I’ll wait until she returns.” And my topsy-turvy emotions calm down. But he couldn’t help but dwell on the reason he was in her room. “Promise me you won’t try a maneuver like this again. Suicide is not a game.”
“I know. I didn’t take an overdose. I wanted Georgia to call you. That’s all.” She stood and ran her hands down her thighs. “There’s someone out there who will appreciate all this. I couldn’t rob him of that pleasure, now could I?”
Did she expect a civil answer to that question? He kept his mouth shut.
Kate’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, no. I forgot about your cousin. I’m sorry, Jay. I thought if you found me in a vulnerable state, you’d change your mind.”
A tap on the door re
scued Jay.
Georgia entered, magazine in hand. “I bought the last copy.” She glanced from Kate to Jay. “Is everything all right?”
Kate nodded. “Yes, my friend. We’re OK.”
Reeling from the shock of Kate’s conduct, Jay strode to the door. “Good-bye, ladies.” He descended the stairs two at a time, and panting for breath, clambered into his truck. Although relieved the reason for his visit proved to be wrong, why did his fists itch to punch someone or something?
Uh-huh. The person he wanted to punish was himself. For falling for Kate in the first place. What did that say about his choices? Or future decisions? Could he trust his perceptions at all? He closed his eyes. “Dear Father, please help me to always put You first in every aspect of my life. I bow to Your sovereignty, and will wait on Your timing.” The recent events echoed in his mind. “Be with Kate and remind her that she is Your child.”
How could he possibly help Lela with her spiritual turmoil when he had royally messed up his own life? Exhaling a massive sigh, he turned on the engine. He exited the parking garage and threaded through the traffic toward Beth’s house. As he drove, Lela occupied his mind. She was unlike any woman he’d ever met before. Spunky and courageous, yet vulnerable. He recalled Kate’s perfectly made up face, but Lela’s fresh, unadorned features intruded. No cosmetics necessary to enhance her beauty.
He gripped the wheel. But until she expressed a definite desire in ‘churchy things’, he must forget romantic notions and limit their association to finding Chuck. That is, unless she asked for his help again. And, naturally, he would pray and share his beliefs whenever he could.
Churchy. Whomever he chose for his life’s mate would have to share the vital aspects of being churchy. Of course, an intelligent mind and a pretty face wouldn’t hurt, and the ability to take down a bad guy in less than three seconds. Don’t go there, Vashon.
He grinned as he parked in the driveway. Yes, Kate was no longer a problem. Chin high, he entered the house. Soft voices filtered through the open sunroom door. Lela? He covered the distance in six seconds flat, poked his head around the jamb, and stopped short.
Day of Reckoning Page 18