by Jada Ryker
In hard, wooden chairs arranged around the beds in a semi-circle, Marisa, Alex, and Tara were all talking at once.
Althea smiled slightly. It appeared Marisa was giving Alex hell.
“What were thinking when you ran into that building, knowing there was a murderer on the loose?”
Stung, Alex retorted, “You’d better be thankful for that old woman Verna and her fence acrobatics. If she hadn’t heard Laithe’s caterwauling and ran to her door to find him spread-eagled on it, thereby drawing her attention to your kitchen, I’d have never known you were in trouble!”
“Why on earth did you drag Verna into danger?” Marisa smacked his shoulder.
“Ow! It would have taken more time to make her and that mangy pooch stay behind than to simply take them along!”
Fred was bemoaning his bad luck in missing all of the excitement. At his feet, The Library reposed like a chastised dog.
Tara’s pretty porcelain face was scrunched up as she valiantly tried to follow the differing accounts. Her desperate questions were ignored.
A man with dark hair and even features sat a little apart from the others. He was perfectly silent. He appeared to be huddled in his chair, as if to make himself as small as possible.
From his hospital bed, Dreamus held up his hand for silence.
“First, before we get to explanations, I want to thank Miss Clara for saving my life. She is wonderfully brave. She threw me over her shoulders and carried me out of the burning building.”
Clara gently disentangled her hand from Fred’s and wheeled over to the edge of the lieutenant’s bed.
Dreamus reached for her hand.
Clara’s face was bright red from the heat of the fire and dotted with the cream applied by the hospital personnel. She’d changed her torn and scorched polyester smock top and ragged pants for a hospital gown and robe. “You’re quite welcome, young man.” Her eyes twinkled in her wrinkled face. “You should let me cook for you sometime. You’re as light as a feather.”
The lieutenant grinned. “That would be wonderful.”
Alex’s head snapped up. “Hey, Dreamus, Miss Clara is MY lunch lady! You leave her alone!”
Althea looked at Tara and wondered what was wrong with the normally effervescent blonde. Her hair hung in lank rattails around her pale face, and her clothes were stained and wrinkled. At least her bosom was safely within her shirt and her legs were decently covered. When Althea’s eyes wandered from the tatty sweatshirt and sweatpants to Tara’s face, she met the younger woman’s eyes. When Tara’s chin rose and her eyes narrowed in anger, Althea turned her head.
The police lieutenant indicated the watchful, dark man in the corner. “Mrs. Flaxton and Miss Clara, this is William Heightman. He is definitely a hero.”
Althea thought: That young man is so still and so silent...He is waiting for something. What is it? She thought about an abused dog she’d taken in years ago. The poor thing had continuously cringed, as if convinced he’d be kicked at any moment.
With a sudden flash of insight, Althea realized William looked and behaved just as that dog had so many years ago.
From his bed, Dreamus spoke. “This case started with a letter from a mother, concerned not only for her child, but other children. Her young son had been approached by a predator who wanted to take pictures of him. Disguised as a teenage boy, I went undercover to infiltrate the child pornography ring. I found a connection between the illegal activities and Tara’s online group. Because of that connection, she and Marisa were dragged into the investigation.
“Sarah, an exotic dancer, discovered Tara’s online group by snooping on her boyfriend’s computer. She originally went to the group meetings in disguise with the intent of catching her boyfriend cheating on her. She didn’t find Jake there, but she continued to participate in the forum discussions, with her friend’s help. Her boyfriend was an abusive and exploitive man, and she wanted someone to come along and rescue her from the life she was leading.
“Unfortunately, Sarah either suspected or found out her boyfriend was involved in the porn ring. She was seeing Macon, Marisa’s therapist, on a professional basis. Macon was the ‘silent partner’ in the porn ring. Something she told him in those sessions tipped him off to Sarah’s knowledge. She was a threat to him, and Macon decided to kill her.
“Macon was in the strip club that night. He stole the bartender’s knife. I believe he engineered Sarah’s fall…he managed to knock over the beer bottle, spraying the stage so that it became slippery. When the dancer fell, he took the opportunity he’d created, and he stabbed her.
“Macon was one of my ‘unknowns’ – a person who’d been present, but no one else in the club knew who he was. In my investigation, he was a shadowy figure.
“The therapist’s next step to protect himself was to kill Jake, Sarah’s boyfriend. Jake, who lived on the fringes of the criminal world, wasn’t dumb. I believe he somehow discovered Macon’s true identity. He may have tried to blackmail Macon. Macon shot Jake and tried to make it appear to be a suicide. Marisa and Alex ruined that plan by actually catching Macon in Jake’s mobile home right after the murder. Alex chased Macon, but couldn’t catch him, given Macon’s hobby of running marathons.
“We did solve one mystery. Jake was the sniper who tried to kill Sarah and Brandon at the gym.
“I knew that even with Jake and Sarah dead, porn was still being bought and sold. I was convinced the actual contacts were made through the online group. Marisa recruited William to work undercover to try and pinpoint the porn dealer.” Dreamus nodded to William.
William looked down at his hands. “At the gathering, I tried to talk to everyone who was part of the online group. I was shocked when Marina Poole Waters, Empress of the Endless Seas, said she recognized me from my picture on the sex offender website. She knew all of the details of my conviction for molestation, which are of course posted on the website. She asked me if I wanted to buy some pictures.
“I told her I wanted to buy them. I also told her I couldn’t receive them by email. As a registered sex offender, I have to disclose my email address and it is subject to monitoring. I’ve seen a lot of people get busted due to the technological savvy of the police. Even deleted files could be recreated by a smart information technology professional. I thought showing my concern would add to my legitimacy as a customer.
“Marina Poole laughed and agreed online was too dangerous. We made arrangements for me to meet her in the park. I’d hand over the money, and she’d give me the hard copies of the pictures. The lieutenant set up the covert operation, and Marina Poole was arrested.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Marisa leaped to her feet. “I should have known Marina Poole was the one!”
Incredulous, William stared up at her. “How could you have known, Marisa?”
“Nieces! Marina Poole dropped some pictures on the floor, including one of two children in a tub. She said they were her nieces. Later, Carla told me Marina Poole was an only child. It was a discrepancy I should have caught.” Marisa flopped back into her chair.
Dreamus’ mouth quirked. “We all have those low points, Marisa.” He sobered. “What struck me during her interrogation was Marina Poole’s insistence upon the existence of a ‘silent partner.’ She had seen him, but because of his disguise, she couldn’t describe him. She didn’t even know if he was a man or a woman.”
Dreamus nodded to Alex.
Taking his cue, Alex said, “I went to Marisa’s house to find her after I heard on the radio the assisted living center was on fire. When I went to Marisa’s house, her neighbor Verna was hysterical. She told me a man with a gun had just left with Marisa, in Marisa’s car.
“I was frantic. Verna and her little hound from hell jumped in the car, even though I ordered them to stay put. I called Dreamus as I sped along as fast as I could, but no answer. No sign of Marisa’s car. I drove around, looking for it. Finally, Verna spotted it in a parking lot. A battered old truck was tucked at the back
of the lot. Since I couldn’t reach Dreamus, I called the police station.
“I ran to the door of the building. Thankfully, the door was unlocked. I sped down the hallway, and called out to Marisa. I burst into the room, Verna and Punky right behind me, just as the gun went off. I managed to overpower Macon. Marisa’s brother was shot and he’s in surgery now.”
“Mosely saved my life. He’s in bad shape physically given all his years of hard drinking and hard living. He’s in the operating room now. They think he’ll make it, but we won’t know for some time.” Marisa turned on Alex. “For heaven’s sake, Alex, you could have gotten killed, throwing yourself on Macon like that! Macon could have twisted the gun around, and shot you!”
Stung, Alex retorted, “If I hadn’t thrown myself on him, Macon would have finished off Mosely and then shot and killed you.”
Althea gave Alex a regal nod of her head. “Thank you, Alex.”
Marisa’s face darkened with anger and she started to rise.
Dreamus hastily took up the tale. “After Macon was taken into custody, he was so enraged he forgot about his persona of a caring healthcare professional. Once he calmed down, he claimed Marisa was the head of the porn ring. He suggested my team search her and check her house for evidence. They found what Macon had planted. He claimed she and her disreputable brother came to the office while he was working after hours to kill him, because he knew too much about her past history. He stated he wrestled the gun away from Mosely, and the gun accidentally went off.
“Macon is convinced given his spotless reputation, the evidence he had planted, and Marisa’s email confession, the courts will believe she was the porn ring leader. He thinks her colorful past and her brother’s brushes with the law will sway the courts in his favor.
“In the meantime, we’ll compile enough evidence to convict him. Macon is in jail now, charged with the murders of Sarah and Jake, and the attempted murders of Mosely and Marisa.”
Everyone looked expectantly at Marisa.
“Thank you, Alex, for saving my life.” Rather than sounding grateful, her voice had a cranky edge. “But you’d better not ever put yourself in danger like that again!” Marisa indicated the smears of ointment on Althea’s bright red face. “Althea, what happened at the assisted living center? What caused the fire?”
Dreamus turned his head toward Clay’s bed. “Would you care to take over, sir?”
Clay gripped Althea’s free hand. “Moira Peters tracked me down. She tried to blackmail me. Of course it didn’t work. I would never give in to a blackmailer’s demands. After that failed attempt, she overheard Althea and me discussing the dancer’s murder the very same night of the killing. Moira decided to frame me for murder by killing another resident in the same way the dancer died. She chose as her victim Mrs. Craft. The other woman had long red hair, and could be mistaken in near darkness for Moira. She stole one of my suits, and wore a white wig in the style of my hair. I think she may have bought the wig ahead of time, thinking it would come in handy. Faced with the evidence, Lieutenant Camden rather ostentatiously arrested me.
“What Moira didn’t know was the lieutenant believed me. We set the stage for Althea to record Moira’s confession. We knew once I was arrested, Moira wouldn’t be able to resist crowing over her triumph.” Clay turned deferentially to Althea.
“Moira confessed. Clara and I both heard her. Lieutenant Camden was in the room, posing as a senile old man, and he heard her as well. When we confronted her, Moira streaked off upstairs. She then set off the explosions that destroyed the center.”
Dreamus bowed to Clara. “The fearless Clara carried me out of the fire. She saved my life.”
A nursing assistant slipped into the room. Her untidy blonde curls were pulled back into a loose ponytail at the back of her neck, and fringes of blonde curls covered her forehead. Her abdomen was huge; it caused her pale blue uniform dress to hike up in the front. In one hand, she clutched a red, square, open plastic container, littered with tubes. As she waddled across the room to Clay’s bed, the overhead light glinted on her thick glasses.
In the sudden silence, the nursing assistant said in a low, drawling voice, “Don’t mind me. I just need to get a little blood from Mr. Napier.” She pawed among the tubes.
Althea caught Dreamus’ eyes, and nodded significantly toward the nursing assistant. Dreamus shrugged. “It’s all public. Reporters were swarming the scene, and it’s all over the internet and on television.”
Althea took up the narrative. “Clara and I discovered Moira and Clay in a deadly confrontation. Not pausing to think, I rushed in. While I kept Moira talking, Clara circled around. She managed to disarm Moira. Unfortunately, Moira ripped my dress to steal the recording device. What she didn’t know was I’d placed the recording device in one of my pockets, and a common, everyday pen similar to the device in my other pocket.”
Althea reached into her dirty dress. She pulled out the cylinder. When she pressed the top, Moira’s voice emitted from it. “I killed Mrs. Craft. And now, your boyfriend will go to prison for it.” The sound of applause filled the hospital room. “Very good, Mrs. Flaxton. You’re absolutely correct. You’ve solved your little puzzle. I stabbed Mrs. Craft and I framed Clay for the murder. Unfortunately, no one will believe you.”
Clara drew a startled breath. “That nurse! She has a bite mark on her ankle!”
All eyes in the room turned to the nurse’s slim ankles. An angry ring of teeth marks showed very clearly through her hose.
The nurse pulled a gun out of her red basket. “Very observant of you, Clara!” With her other hand, she plucked the cylinder out of Althea’s hand and slipped it into her pocket. “Nobody move, and I’ll leave quietly. Try to stop me, and I’ll kill Mrs. Flaxton.”
“Mrs. Peters! Why did you risk so much to come back for the recording device? All you had to do was fade away, and assume your next identity. What did it matter if we had your confession?” Althea’s hands were clenched.
Clay growled. “She came back for it because she had to, Thea. Since the fire thirty years ago, there’s been nothing on file to confirm her identity. No fingerprints, no DNA, nothing. That cylinder has her confessions and voiceprints. If she's captured in the future, no matter what identity she is using, that voice print could help convict her of her crimes.”
Moira bowed slightly in Clay’s direction. “I always thought you were exceedingly intelligent, Clay. Also, in my profession, I can’t afford to leave any loose ends dangling. My employers expect me to be completely anonymous.” Her voice was a whip crack. “Be happy I’m not eliminating each and every one of you!” Moira laughed, the trilling sound filling the small room. “I must be running along now.”
Clay brought his fist up sharply, driving Moira’s arm with the gun toward the ceiling. It discharged with a soft plop. At the same time, Dreamus rammed his bedside table into Moira’s back.
Marisa and Alex rose.
Fred threw The Library across the room. The large rectangular suitcase crashed into Moira’s feet, knocking her to the floor.
William leaped up from his chair and fell upon Moira. He wrenched the gun from her hand, and stood over her. He pointed the gun at her heart.
Dreamus said calmly from his bed, “I used my cell phone as soon as Clara figured out who she was. I sent a text message for help. My people are on their way to take her to jail, where she belongs.”
Moira staggered to her feet, with her hands in the air. She turned to Clay, and threw her head back. “You know no jail on earth can hold me. I’ll soon escape.” The arrogant note faded from her voice. “Clay. You’re still very much the man I fell in love with thirty years ago. You’ll soon tire of this weak, mewling little school marm. When you do, I’ll be there for you, my love. It will be just as it was thirty years ago—”
Althea rose from her chair. Taking careful aim, Althea punched Moira in the face. Moira stumbled backwards, crashed into the bedside table, and hit the floor on her behind.
&nbs
p; Althea bent over, slid her hand in Moira’s pocket, and removed the cylinder.
The door burst open. Several police officers jammed into the small room.
From his hospital bed, Dreamus took control of the situation.
Marisa looked around at Alex, Fred, and Tara. “I think we’re getting underfoot. Let’s go out into the hall.”
At the door, a man hurtled into the room. He crashed into Marisa, causing her to stagger backward into Alex, Tara, and Fred.
His frantic hands reached out to steady her. “Marisa! I was in the lobby when the policemen came charging up here! I thought something terrible had happened to you!” In spite of the fading bruise around his eye, Parvis Stidham was so handsome he was beautiful. His short dark hair gleamed under the lights. In his perfectly tanned face, his eyes were pale glittering blue jewels. He pulled her to him, his dangling messenger bag banging against her hip. “Marisa.”
“Parvis. What are you doing here? Oh, wait, you’re on the trail of a hot story.” Marisa pushed past him into the hall.
* * * * *
Marisa heard Parvis’ slapping steps in the hallway behind her. He grabbed her arm.
Alex lunged forward.
Althea, who had quietly followed the group out of the room, laid a gentle arm across Alex’s tense shoulders to stop him in his tracks. She hugged him against her.
“Parvis, let go of my arm.” Marisa faced him quietly.
“Marisa. I’m sorry. I should not have said what I said to you. I was wrong. You fill my thoughts and my dreams. Let’s pretend your past never happened. We’ll start afresh, from this moment. Please give me another chance.” He smiled at her, his mouth quirking up on one end.
Parvis’ smile was extremely self-assured, and his eyes glittered with his sure knowledge of her submission.
Marisa felt the fury rise up in her chest. “You arrogant, complacent bastard. You think all you have to do is say forget the past, smile at me, and I’ll fall into your arms.” Marisa stood on her tiptoes so she could bring her face close to his. “I am who I am, past and present. I am an alcoholic, albeit in recovery. I’ve done things of which you’ll never approve. You think you can just wave the magic wand of your mesmerizing personality, and wipe all of that away, as if it never existed.”