The Bad Break

by Jill Orr

  Hey Riley,

  To answer ur question, the norm for Milllennial dating is ur either just hooking up or ur in a serious (exclusive) relationship. There’s not a lot of in between these days. And usually if it’s the latter, u have already talked about it. Why do u ask?

  xx,

  Jenna B.

  Personal Success Concierge™

  Bestmillenniallife.com

  Dear Jenna,

  If you don’t know why I’m asking, you might want to tune up that “overdeveloped sense of intuition” of yours.

  All best,

  Riley

  Hey Riley,

  I am intuiting from ur tone that this is about u and ur man. I’m so sorry.

  PS: Let’s not turn on each other.

  xx,

  Jenna B.

  Personal Success Concierge™

  Bestmillenniallife.com

  Dear Jenna,

  I’m sorry I lashed out. I’m just really confused right now. I think my boyfriend is seeing someone and I don’t have anyone to blame but myself because I never even asked him if we were exclusive. I just assumed. What an idiot.

  All best,

  Riley

  Hey Riley,

  This totally reminds me of that time Kourtney caught Scott with that skank from the Valley a few years ago—do u remember that? And he said he didn’t do anything wrong because they’d never said they were exclusive? Well, I think the court of public opinion settled that one, firmly on Kourtney’s side, of course!

  Same situation. This is not ur fault, Riley. U r a romantic and u assumed ur man was too. But turns out he is just a regular dude. Harsh.

  xx,

  Jenna B

  Personal Success Concierge™

  Bestmillenniallife.com

  Dear Jenna,

  That is maybe the most depressing thing about this whole situation: “turns out he is just a regular dude.”

  PS: Who are Kourtney and Scott?

  All best,

  Riley

  Hey Riley,

  I hope ur kidding. If not, I am going to need to revoke ur Millennial card, haha, lol!

  xx,

  Jenna B

  Personal Success Concierge™

  Bestmillenniallife.com

  Dear Jenna,

  I’m going to sleep now. I know I’m going to have to talk to Jay about this eventually, but not while he’s on a date. Ugh. I can’t even type that without feeling sick.

  All best,

  Riley

  Hey Riley,

  Try some peppermint tea. It’ll help with the nausea. And if u pour a little Tito’s in there, it’ll help with the broken heart. And remember the wise words of T. Swift, the queen of breakups, “If somebody hurts you, it’s okay to cry a river, just remember to build a bridge to get over it.”

  xx,

  Jenna B

  Personal Success Concierge™

  Bestmillenniallife.com

  CHAPTER 32

  The phone ringing in the middle of the night with bad news is a cliché, but it’s a cliché for a reason. So when my phone rang at 2:47 a.m. I knew it was not going to be good.

  “Riley, can you come to Tuttle Gen?” It was Thad.

  I sat straight up in bed. “What is it? Is it David?”

  “No, it’s Tabitha,” he said. “She’s okay, but she’s had an accident and is asking for you. Third floor, room 302.”

  I drove to the hospital as fast as I could and parked in one of the four empty spaces in the lot closest to the door. Given that it was almost 3 a.m., there weren’t many people around. I locked my car and literally ran inside, zipping past two men on a smoke break at the requisite twenty feet from the hospital building.

  “Hey Riley, you okay?” One of the men called out to me.

  I turned around and in the dark I could barely make out Jack and another man sitting on a bench, the orange tips of their cigarettes like two floating pinpricks of light.

  “Oh, hi Jack,” I said, but didn’t stop moving. I didn’t have time to chitchat. “I’m fine, a friend of mine has had an accident.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Hope she’s okay!”

  “Thanks.” I gave him a backward wave as I approached the front doors and hurried toward the elevators. I’d never been to the hospital at this time and it felt spooky. The halls were dark, and although I saw the occasional person working, the place felt empty. I reached her room and knocked on the door, holding my breath, afraid of what I might find on the other side.

  “Geez, finally,” Tabitha said as I walked in.

  Her impatience reassured me that whatever happened wasn’t life-threatening, but the sight of her lying in the hospital bed in the context of everything that had happened over the past three days was more than a little disturbing. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “Of course I’m not okay,” she said. “I’m going to have to wear a freaking boot under my wedding dress!”

  “Thanks for coming, Riley,” Thad said. He sat in a chair next to Tabitha’s bed and held her hand tight in his. “Babe, I keep telling you—don’t worry about the wedding.”

  “I’m not pushing anything back,” she said firmly. “In nine days, we are getting married if I have to be rolled down the aisle in this bed.”

  He put his hands up in surrender. I had a feeling that was going to be a familiar gesture for the rest of their relationship.

  “Just tell me what happened,” I said.

  Tabitha took in a big breath. “I’ve come across some new information, and in the course of gathering this information, I . . .” she paused. “I made an error in judgment that caused some physical harm, so I will need you to pick up where I left off.”

  Thad made a scoffing sound and Tabitha shot him the evil eye before continuing. “Carl is clearly overwhelmed and time is of the essence here, so I decided to do some research and drive around to all the tobacco farms in the area. You know, knock on doors, talk to the owners, fish for information—that sort of thing.”

  I was aghast. “Tabitha, that is really dangerous!”

  She waved me off. “Thad came with me. Besides, I’ve taken Krav Maga for six years and carry a can of pepper spray everywhere I go. No one is going to mess with me.”

  “And yet here you lie in a hospital bed,” Thad said. You could tell he was more scared than angry.

  “You know it has nothing to do with that,” Tabitha said with a sweetness not typical for her.

  “Go on,” I said, anxious to find out how we ended up where we were.

  “I visited three farms in the area and was able to talk to the owners at all of them. I dug around for information—did they spend much time in Tuttle Corner? Did they see a cardiologist? I asked them any question I could think of that would prove a connection between them and the Davenports. They all ended up with a big fat zero. The fourth farm is owned by someone named Dwayne Statler, who was out of town when Arthur was killed. I never was able to get ahold of the owner of the fifth farm, so I went to the county registrar and found out it was someone named Charles Krisanski.”

  “Krisanski?” I asked, a gnawing feeling starting in my stomach.

  “Yeah, do you know him?”

  “Maybe. Go on.”

  “I dug a little deeper and soon found out why I couldn’t get a hold of Charles Krisanski.”

  I cut in. “Because he’s dead.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Finish your story and I’ll tell you.”

  “Okay, so Charles Krisanski died two years ago after an industrial accident on his farm. After his death, the farm reverted to his wife, who is the next of kin. But when I started looking into it—”

  “She’s dead too,” I said.

  “If you already knew all of this, why didn’t you tell me! You could have saved me a lot of trouble,” Tabitha hissed.

  “Finish your story.”

  “Well anyway, it was odd, so I decided to go over there, this time on my own. I was expecting to see ba
rren land or an empty plot, but when I got there, it looked like operations were in full swing. There was a big section that looked freshly farmed, with live plants and equipment, areas roped off with twine, and little green budding plants. Someone is working that land despite the fact that both the owners are deceased.”

  “I told her not to go—” Thad said.

  She talked over him. “I was just planning to drive by, but when I saw the land was in use, I decided to poke around. There was a weird-looking building sitting on the back of the property. It was metal siding two-thirds of the way up and then the top was all glass, which is what made it look like a greenhouse. I tried the doors but they were locked and so—”

  Thad made another exasperated sound.

  “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea I ever had, but I found a ladder leaning up against the side of the building and I climbed up just high enough so I could peek inside—”

  Thad, unable to take her slow buildup, jumped in with the rest. “She fell off the goddamn ladder, hit the side of her head on the way down, and landed on her ankle with enough force to shoot the bone right out the side of her skin.” His voice trembled with restrained emotion. “She blacked out after the fall and because she was out there by herself she lay there for who-knows-how-long. When she came to, thankfully, she was able to reach her phone and call me. I raced out to get her because I knew I could make it faster than the ambulance.”

  Tabitha had tears in her eyes now. She looked distraught at how pained Thad was over her accident, but she tried to brush over it with her trademark confidence. “I’m gonna be fine,” she said. “I admit it wasn’t my finest hour, but the important thing is, Riley, you need to look into this farm and see who is using it. Something is off here.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell Carl all of this instead of going out there yourself?” I asked, shocked that she’d be so reckless.

  “Exactly,” Thad muttered through gritted teeth.

  “Calm down, you two,” Tabitha said. “I was going to, and I will. But you know he is going to have to do everything by the book and that’ll take forever. I just thought if I could figure out who was working the land, I could . . . expedite the process a little.” She had the nerve to smile at us. “By the way, how did you know the Krisanskis?”

  I explained to Thad and Tabitha everything I’d learned about Helen Krisanski’s death and her connection to Dr. Davenport.

  Tabitha, who had to be either in serious pain or majorly medicated, looked as excited as I’d ever seen her. “Maybe the daughter had a grudge against Arthur? Maybe she blamed him for her mom’s death?”

  I thought about this but rejected the idea pretty quickly. Lauren had sounded more sad than angry when we spoke about Arthur earlier in the day. She didn’t seem to be hiding anything, and certainly not something as big as having killed the man I was interviewing her about. But I did agree that it was strange someone was using the Krisanski farm, given she had specifically told me they weren’t.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, rising to leave. “But I’ll touch base with her again and let you know what I find out.”

  I needed to talk to Carl about all of this, and preferably before my meeting with the mayor. I told them I’d take it from there and ordered Tabitha to rest, which was laughable since Tabitha had never taken an order from anybody in her life, least of all me.

  Thad stood up to walk me out, but before we got to the door Tabitha said, “Hurry, Riley.”

  At first I thought she was saying that because of the wedding, but when I looked at her she flicked her eyes to Thad. Suddenly her mania made more sense to me. Someone was threatening Thad’s family and she was worried he could be next. All of this sleuthing around was to protect the man she loved.

  And, okay, maybe a little bit to protect her wedding, too.

  CHAPTER 33

  The sun was rising as I drove home from the hospital. I’d get home just in time to take Coltrane out for his morning walk, shower, and change before heading to meet Mayor Lancett. I called out to Coltrane when I walked inside, expecting him to come bounding to the door like always. But he didn’t.

  “Coltrane!” I called again, tossing my purse and keys onto the entry table. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you outside.”

  Again, nothing. This wasn’t normal; it was too quiet. All of the sudden everything around me seemed sharpened into high definition. I stood still, looking around at every surface of my house. Where was Coltrane? Was someone here? There was no broken window—I could see all the way to the back of the kitchen where the deadbolt was firmly slid into place. Coltrane slept in my room with me, usually on the bed. I wondered if it was possible he was still asleep. Maybe all the excitement last night with the phone call and all had made him extra tired.

  I crept down the hallway, carefully and quietly, and peeked through my bedroom door, which stood open. No Coltrane. But there was something new there. A plain white piece of paper sitting on my bed. On. My. Bed.

  Trembling, I picked up the paper and read: DAVENPORT DESERVED TO DIE. YOU DON’T. STOP PLAYING SHERIFF.

  Gravity shifted around me like a slipping transmission and I had to steady myself to stay upright. Someone had been in my bedroom. Could they still be in my house? Where was Coltrane? I was paralyzed with panic. I’m not sure how long I stood there immobilized by fear, but it was a faint scratching noise that brought me back to life. It was coming from the back door. Coltrane.

  I ran to the door and almost collapsed with relief when I saw my dog standing on his hind legs looking through the glass on the back door. I threw open the deadbolt and let him inside.

  Coltrane nearly mauled me, sniffing every inch of me like he was trying to make sure I was all right. He jumped on me and licked my face, soft whines escaping from him every few seconds. I ran my hands through his fur to make sure he was unharmed and nuzzled into his neck, telling him, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

  My heart was beating too fast and I struggled to think what I should do. Someone had been in my home. In my bedroom. Near my dog. I texted Carl’s private number and told him I needed to talk to him ASAP.

  Ten minutes later, he stood in my living room, the note now resting inside of a plastic evidence bag. Carl’s face was an implacable mask as I told him about Tabitha’s field trip to the Krisanski farm, my talk with Libby Nichols, my conversation with Brandon Laytner, and my upcoming meeting with the mayor.

  “You’ve done something to spook our killer. Problem is, we don’t know which of the many things you’ve done has him or her nervous.”

  I thought I detected a note of irritation in his voice. I ignored it.

  “My money is on Brandon Laytner. There’s something off about that guy. And the connection to the tobacco leaves and Bennett Nichols is a little too coincidental for me.”

  “I’ll go talk to him this morning. Ask him his whereabouts the night Davenport was killed, and earlier today for that matter.”

  “And he also may have a reason to want David out of the way,” I said, connections taking shape in my mind. “David said he was going to look at the Invigor8 files in Arthur’s office. Maybe somehow Brandon found out about that? If he already killed once to protect his new wonder drug, it isn’t such a stretch to think he’d do it again.”

  “That’s right,” Carl agreed. “And that’s exactly why you need to take a step back from this.”

  “Oh, no, no, no, Carl,” I said, standing up. “You are not about to protect me off this story.” I’d worked hard to chase these leads, leads that stupid Spencer didn’t even have, and I was not about to let all that hard work go to waste, especially now that I was obviously getting close to the truth.

  “Listen, you’ve been threatened very directly here.” He brandished the bag. “I can’t take a chance of anyone else getting hurt on this.”

  “No one is going to get hurt. We can use this—don’t you see? The murderer is clearly watching me—we can use that to bait him out into the open. It’s perfect.” />
  But he was shaking his head before I even finished my sentence. “Absolutely not. The Tuttle County sheriff’s department does not bait killers, Riley. And certainly not with civilians.”

  “But this is an opportunity,” I said, trying to appeal to his desire to solve the case. “This is as close as we’ve come to figuring out who’s behind all of this. We have their attention. Let’s use that!” I wished so badly Holman was there—he’d totally let me be used as bait.

  “No way,” Carl said, and I could see from the firm set of his jaw that he was not going to waver on this. His phone vibrated and he looked down to check it. “This is Butter. I’ve got to take it.”

  He stepped outside, giving me a chance to think about what I needed to do next. Carl was kidding himself if he thought I was going to step aside on this investigation, but he had been right about one thing: something I’d done recently had won me the attention of the killer. I needed to figure out what it was and then do it again—this time with a plan.

  Carl came back inside and explained the call had been from Butter saying that Lindsey Davis, the prosecutor, wanted to meet with him this morning regarding the charges against Thad. He said in light of present circumstances, he was going to request that Ms. Davis not file any charges just yet. And then he said, “Stay away from this case, Riley. I’m dead serious. Whoever killed Arthur Davenport isn’t playing around. I appreciate you helping me out, but we’ll take it from here.”

  “I think you’re being ridiculous.”

  “I know you do, and I know you’re thinking about blowing me off and investigating on your own. I also need you to know that if I get wind that you’re still asking around on this, I’ll have no choice but to tell Kay Jackson what you’re doing.”