Trent stood for a moment, his dark gaze fixed on me. Then he took Gary’s arm and turned away, leading him toward his car. “I have no evidence against Kathleen.”
If he hadn’t turned away, he would have been able to see the sparks shooting upward from my head.
No evidence? Just the word of the woman he claimed to love.
“I’m going to take you up on that offer of coming in tomorrow instead of tonight,” I said.
He paused with the door to his backseat half open and looked at me.
Too late. The sparks had been replaced by ice. He wouldn’t be able to see that in the cold black of the night.
“I’ll go to your place as soon as I get the prisoner booked.”
“Why? I’m safe now, right? Gary’s in custody and all’s right with the world.”
Trent’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be at your place in an hour.”
An hour should give me enough time to get to Kathleen’s hotel room and force her to confess. Fred would follow me, of course, but, short of physical violence, he couldn’t stop me. I just needed to be sure he couldn’t tattle on me to Trent until it was a done deal.
“Will I be able to get hold of you on your cell phone?” I was pretty sure I knew the answer.
He shook his head. “It’s evidence now. I’ll pick up a new one and call you when I leave the station.”
“Okay.”
From the corner of my vision I saw Fred stand stiffly upright. I could feel his gaze on me.
He knew what okay meant.
Chapter Seventeen
Trent led the procession as we drove out of the wooded area and back toward the street. I followed him and Fred followed me.
Trent turned off and headed for the police station. I turned off and headed to the Pleasant Grove Manor.
Fred stayed behind me. I drove slowly to be sure I didn’t lose him. I could have done this alone, but Fred has a way of getting information out of people.
We pulled into the Pleasant Grove Manor parking lot. He parked next to me, got out, and came over to where I stood beside my car.
“Kathleen?” he asked.
I nodded. “We have to trick her into confessing and record it.”
“Any idea how we do that?”
I couldn’t believe he was asking me. He’s always the one who comes up with ideas. “We tell her Gary’s been arrested and, um, he’s going to flip on her.”
He shook his head.
Even I had to admit my suggestion was pretty lame. “Uh, okay, how about if we tell her we want to help her get away, but she has to tell us the truth.”
I shook my head before he had a chance. “I know. That sucks. Look, I make chocolate, you come up with ways to get information out of people. So you tell me what we can do.”
“You’re targeting the wrong person. You want to prove to Trent that Kathleen’s guilty. You’re letting your emotions overrule your logic. We need to talk to Corey.”
I frowned. “Corey’s not going to talk to us. He knows we’re not Professor Walter Keats and Elizabeth Shelby. After that visit, he probably won’t say anything to us except, Go away.”
“Let’s go inside. It’s cold out here.”
He was right. The adrenalin from my brush with death had worn off, and I was shivering.
We went in. It was Friday night. The bar area on one side of the lobby held a few people, but it wasn’t crowded. Friday night in Pleasant Grove doesn’t bring out the wild partiers. Neither does Saturday night. There aren’t a lot of wild partiers in Pleasant Grove.
Fred indicated an empty table in the corner.
We sat and he called someone on his cell phone.
“Mr. Paggett, this is Fred Sommers. I have a video of you and Kathleen sitting in Death by Chocolate. The audio component of that video includes a confession that you committed murder for her. Unless you want me to give that confession to the police, you need to come downstairs and talk to me. Come by yourself. Do not bring Kathleen. My assistant and I are sitting at the corner table. I’ll order a martini for you.” He disconnected the call.
“You lied to him.”
“Not really. You have the audio and video stored in your brain.” He waved to a waitress across the room.
“You can’t turn my brain over to the police.”
He gave me a look that made me wonder if he could.
The waitress came to our table.
“Two martinis and two glasses of your best Pinot Grigio.”
Corey arrived and shoved her out of the way. His hair was still moussed and spiked in contrast to the rest of his disheveled appearance. His shirt was wrinkled and tucked half in and half out of his tight jeans. His beard looked scruffy, and his sparkling white teeth were hidden behind tightly compressed lips. He no longer looked arrogant and assured. He looked angry and terrified.
He paused with his hands on the back of the chair across from Fred. “You.” The single word burst from his mouth with the force of a swear word.
“Me.” Fred nodded in my direction. “And her. This time we’re not playing games. This time we’re serious. If you’d told us the truth the first time around, we wouldn’t be here now.”
Corey shook his head. “We’re not here now.” He turned to leave.
I started to rise from my chair. What was I planning to do? Grab him?
“We’re not after you,” Fred said, “but if you force us, we will use that recording to take you down.”
I settled back into my chair.
Corey turned around, his brow furrowed. “If you made a recording of my conversation without my consent at a time when I had an expectation of privacy, that recording is not admissible in court.”
“This isn’t about going to court.”
The waitress arrived and set the drinks on the table.
Corey twitched.
“Sit,” Fred ordered.
He sat and gulped half the first martini.
Fred sipped his wine. “My employer wants Kathleen, not you.”
Interesting. Was he referring to me as his employer? I picked up my glass of wine and leaned back to watch the Fred Show.
Corey jerked his head back and forth in a negative response. “Kathleen’s not involved in anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I told you to come alone.” Fred pointed over Corey’s shoulder. “What’s Kathleen doing here?”
Corey spun around to look.
So did I.
I didn’t see her.
“Where?” Corey asked.
“Sorry. Not her.” Fred took another sip of wine.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
“I’m Fred Sommers, and I want to know all the details of Kathleen’s plot to kill her husband.”
Corey drained his first martini and reached for the second. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You will soon. When I diverted your attention to look for Kathleen, I put a heavy dose of drugs in both your drinks.” Corey’s eyes widened and he set the half-empty glass back on the table. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. The only effect will be that you’ll do whatever I tell you to do, and you’ll answer all my questions truthfully.”
Corey’s jaw went slack as panic spread over his face. He looked at me.
I smiled.
Drugs.
Go, Fred!
Fred laid a small device that looked like a flash drive on the table. He turned it on then gave the date, time, location, and our names. “Corey Paggett, do I have your permission to record our conversation?”
Corey stared at Fred as if he didn’t understand the question.
Fred nodded.
Corey nodded.
“Would you please vocalize your agreement for the recorder? Do I have your permission to record this conversation? Please say the word yes.”
Corey nodded again. “Yes.” The single word came out soft and slow as if he were drugged.
Well.
“Please tell me ab
out your relationship with Kathleen Gabler.”
“We’re in love. We’re going to get married.”
“Was Kathleen going to divorce her husband?”
Corey moved his head slowly back and forth. “He wouldn’t give her a divorce. He abused her. She was afraid he was going to kill her.”
“How did you plan to resolve Kathleen Gabler’s problem with her husband?”
“I promised I would kill him.”
I shivered. His flat tone made the horrendous words even worse.
“Please tell me the details of your plan to murder Jeff Gabler.” Fred’s tone had no emotion either. He might as well have been asking Corey how he planned to get back to his room.
“We waited until he scheduled a trip to Kansas City. I came the day before he got here and checked into the Sleep-E-Z Motel as Carl Smith. She left the day after he did and drove straight to her ex-husband’s house. He’s a sucker and she knew he’d take her in and give her an alibi.”
My hands clenched into fists on the table.
If Trent was such a sucker, maybe he’d give me an alibi after I killed Kathleen.
“What was your role in Jeff Gabler’s murder?” Fred asked.
“I went to Jeff’s room at two a.m. while Kathleen was with her ex-husband. I went there to kill her husband.”
I bit my lip. It had to be the effect of the drug that made this man sound so unfeeling about such a contemptuous act.
“How did you get into Jeff’s hotel room?”
“I knocked, but he didn’t answer. Then I saw the door was open. It’s an old hotel, not like those new ones that lock automatically. I went in. He was lying on the floor, dead, with blood everywhere.”
“What?” The word burst from my lips before I could stop it.
Corey looked at me in surprise as if he’d forgotten I was there.
I cringed and put my hand over my mouth. Had I interrupted the flow of the truth drug?
“He was already dead when you got there?” Fred asked.
“Yes.”
Corey had not killed Ransom. Fred’s drug forced him to tell the truth. The confession I’d overheard was bogus.
Kathleen wasn’t guilty of murder. I wasn’t going to be able to visit her on death row and make fun of her orange jumpsuit.
“What did you do then?” Fred asked.
Corey shifted in his seat. “I ran. When I got back to my motel room, I texted Kathleen that the job was done.”
“You let Kathleen think you killed her husband?”
“She said if I killed him, I’d be her hero, that she’d marry me.”
“You and Kathleen Gabler plotted to kill her husband, but you didn’t complete that plan because someone killed him before you got there?”
“If Kathleen finds out, she won’t marry me.”
“Do you know who killed Jeff Gabler?”
“No.”
The waitress approached our table. Fred waved her away. “Where’s Kathleen now?” he asked.
“In her room. We can’t be seen together for a while.”
Fred turned off the recorder and put it in his shirt pocket. “Lindsay, why don’t you go across the lobby and call your friend while Corey and I wait here. Trent needs to know about this situation as well as the probability that Gary is the murderer.”
Yes, Trent needed to know what we’d just discovered. But… “What about the…” I indicated Corey’s martini glasses. “Should we destroy the evidence?”
Fred rose. “Please wait here, Corey. My assistant and I need a moment.”
We walked a few feet away.
Fred leaned close to my ear. “There are no drugs.”
I nodded. “Got it. No drugs. Don’t worry. I won’t tell Trent, but we need to get rid of the martini glasses. I’ll take them with me and dump them in a trash container somewhere.”
“That’s not necessary. There are no drugs. I used only the power of suggestion.”
I stepped back and frowned. “No drugs?”
“No drugs.”
“He told us all that because of the power of suggestion? You don’t have to lie to me. I’ll cover for you.”
“I promise, no drugs.”
“So that makes you like Svengali?”
He shrugged. “Look at Corey’s appearance. He’s obviously susceptible to peer pressure. If my idea hadn’t worked, we could always have used the cattle prods on him.”
“Really?”
“No. Call Trent and get him over here.” He went back to the table where Corey waited patiently, victim of the power of suggestion.
Wow.
He didn’t kill Ransom. Fred thought Gary did it. Ransom had the key to something Gary wanted. He wanted that key so badly he’d broken into my house, killed the man outside, and then he’d kidnapped me.
Kathleen’s story about the intruder in her hotel room was probably true.
Gary was a lawyer. He knew his rights. He wasn’t going to admit to anything.
The cops might have collected enough DNA from Henry’s claws to put him in my house. That might be enough to convict him of killing the drug guy standing guard outside my house.
But what evidence would they have that he killed his friend?
Finding what that key unlocked was critical.
I fumbled in my purse and brought out my cell phone. It was almost midnight. Probably too late to call the Gablers and ask to see what was in Ransom’s toy chest tonight.
It might be worth it if we found a gun inside that was used to commit another murder and had Gary’s fingerprints on it.
Or a head wrapped in plastic, ditto Gary’s fingerprints.
Or we might find Ransom’s collection of DVDs from his teenage years.
I started to call Trent but realized I didn’t know his new number. I’d have to go through 911. Gary continued to cause problems.
Chapter Eighteen
Trent called me back and listened to my excited recitation of Corey’s confession and Fred’s recording. I left out the part about the truth serum. There was no truth serum. No reason to bring it up.
I also left out the part about Kathleen regarding him as a sucker. He sort of was, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
I waited for his reaction. I didn’t expect him to be thrilled that his ex-wife had used him to establish an alibi so her lover could kill her husband.
Well, maybe I kind of did.
He wasn’t.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes.” Cold, emotionless cop.
“Okay.” I gave his attitude right back to him.
“Don’t do anything until we get there.”
“Okay.”
He hung up.
I looked at the phone for a moment.
Don’t do anything?
What did that mean? I had to do all sorts of things. Breathe in, breathe out. Swallow. Maybe go to the bathroom.
And I had to guard Kathleen and be sure she didn’t leave the hotel until Trent got there to arrest her.
I walked back over to where Fred and Corey waited. Corey still appeared to be in a daze.
I believed Fred when he said there were no drugs involved. He never lies to me. Often he doesn’t answer a question, but he never lies to me.
He must have used the Vulcan Mind Meld.
I’d ask him later, and he’d probably not answer me later.
“Trent’s on his way,” I said.
“Good.”
“And I need to go upstairs and wait outside Kathleen’s room to be sure she doesn’t escape.”
He looked at me for a long moment then nodded. “You want to see her hauled out in handcuffs.”
“Yes.”
“All right, but wait down the hall and call me if she starts to leave. Don’t do anything.”
Why was everybody obsessed with me not doing anything?
I rode the shaky, ancient elevator to the fourth floor and strode down the hallway to room 413. It was halfway between the stairs and the elevator. Fred had
instructed me to wait down the hall. That wasn’t possible with two exits to block.
I took my position directly across the hall from her room, took out my cell phone, and activated the camera. See her in handcuffs? I wanted a picture of her in handcuffs.
Her door looked ordinary, the same as the other ones that lined the hallway. Nothing unique about hers except the number.
What did I expect? What did a door hiding a wanna-be murderer look like? Flames shooting out the keyhole? Blood trickling from inside or spelling out Redrum on the door?
None of the above.
I waited.
And waited.
What was taking so long? It was a small town. Trent was at the station a few miles away when I talked to him.
I checked my watch. It had only been ten minutes.
Finally the elevator doors opened and Gerald Lawson stepped out first.
And last.
“Where’s Trent?”
“Downstairs.” He strode to Kathleen’s door and knocked. “Police.”
I opened my mouth to protest then closed it. I didn’t want to see Lawson drag Kathleen off to jail. I wanted to see Trent do it. I wanted to know that he could do it, that he…
I bit my lip. I wanted to know that he wasn’t still in love with her.
I didn’t want to think that. I wanted to believe I was only waiting to photograph Kathleen hauled away in handcuffs so I could gloat.
But the awful truth was, I needed to know Trent could do it. And that wasn’t going to happen.
Kathleen answered the door. She wore a red silk gown. Her hair and makeup were immaculate.
She was expecting someone.
Gary?
Corey?
Trent?
Lawson flashed his badge. “Kathleen Gabler, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder.”
She stepped backward and tried to close the door.
Lawson lifted an arm and held the door open. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Kathleen’s gaze narrowed to evil slits. “How dare you? Get away from my door.” She tried again to close it.
Deadly Chocolate Addiction (Death by Chocolate Book 6) Page 16