And why target Catherine? Did she know something? Or was she just convenient? Did someone know about her affair with Morrisey? Plenty of people knew Catherine was going to be out in the garden that night. Was it a crime of opportunity? Was it even a crime? Was he hallucinating? He should just file it away and move on, but no matter how he worked it, he couldn't buy Catherine as being soulless enough to stage Luthor's death, or smart enough to pull it off without leaving a truck load of physical evidence. Catherine was an obvious kind of woman, and he doubted she had her bridge club fooled for one minute about what she did after their meetings.
Was he looking at one murder, or two murders and an attempt? And if so, how could he prove it? The only anomaly was the gun, and so far it had proved untraceable. Terry said something about a gun. He'd been preoccupied and it hadn't registered. Someone had a gun that looked like a Luger but it wasn't? He needed to check this with Terry. Did Terry require another look? Was his accident an attempt to divert suspicion that went wrong? Or just a coincidence?
Technically, the case was closed, but it felt about as closed as the busted driver's side door on his uncle's old Chevy. Maybe he could fit a quick trip to the park in before he went to work.
~ ~ ~
Lia sat on a fallen log at the bottom of the ravine. Chewy and Honey chased each other across the creek and through the trees. She listened as they traded insults with a pair of chittering squirrels safely taunting from a high perch. They gave up and ran off to sniff for deer. She looked up at the network of intertwining branches overhead, the layers of leaves, following the linear pattern limb by limb. The filtering sunlight had never failed to bring her peace. Today it wasn't working.
She tried some deep breathing. She'd never been much for yoga and meditation, but Bailey swore by it. How was it done? In for a count of four, hold for a count of four, out for a count of four, hold for a count of four. She kept it up for a few minutes. It made her dizzy. Her head was spinning, so she gave it up.
She just couldn't grasp Anna's attitude. Anna had always been one to take life as it came, but to be happy about Luthor being shot? That was inconceivable. And no matter what Anna said, she couldn't wrap her mind around Catherine shooting Luthor. She could see them having an affair. She didn't like it, loathed thinking about all the times Catherine flirted with Luthor and she brushed it off as meaningless. What did that say about her, that it was so easy to deny it then, and so easy to see it now?
She had to be the world's biggest chump. And, dammit, what was wrong with grieving, with taking time to feel? But what was she grieving, really? Was it Luthor, or was it the fact of their relationship? She had thought he was giving her the space she needed. Instead, he was using the extra time to run around on her. And if she took that a bit further, was that what made Luthor attractive to her? That he wasn't as demanding of her time and energy as other men had been? She felt like she was touching on an ugly truth about herself. Something about intimacy, and maybe about control. Maybe dating someone who was busy with other women allowed her to maintain control over her life. Luthor had always been someone she could never marry. Had that also been part of the attraction? Knowing the relationship could go no further? Did she really want intimacy? Maybe not, the way she kept shoving Peter away. Was that the problem with Peter, that he was actually available to her?
Geezlepete. All the whirling thoughts were making her more crazy. She remembered something Bailey mentioned, the Buddhist practice of mindfulness. How you open your senses and take in everything around you without having thoughts about it. Pure experience with no judgments. Just soak it all up like soaking in sunshine on the beach. She closed her eyes and listened to the wind in the trees, felt sun on her eyelids, and tried to let her thoughts run past her like a gurgling creek.
A twig snapped behind her, jolting her out of the meditation.
~ ~ ~
Peter opened the rear door of his Blazer. Before he could grab Viola's lead, she bolted for the trees. "Great." He looked around and spotted Jim and Fleece on the side of the hill. He called up, "What do I do now? I've got an escapee loose in the woods."
Jim trotted down to the fence. "You've got two choices. You can wait until she comes back on her own, or you can go after her."
"How long will it take for her to come back?"
"An hour, maybe two."
"I can't wait that long, but I don't know how to get through this mess."
"There's a path, I'll show you. Not many people use it anymore. Wait a minute while I come out." Jim ran back up the hill, through the corral and down to the parking lot. He led Peter down an overgrown trail. "You know, I'm having a hard time getting a handle on everything that's happened."
"How so?"
"Lia told me your serial killer theory, how you thought it was one of us. I guess it's true Catherine shot Luthor, since she had Lia's phone, but do you really think Catherine was a serial killer?"
Peter stepped over a log. "Hard to say. What are your thoughts about it?"
"Catherine was very social. You always knew when she was around, she was never one to hide in the corners. She always wanted company, and she was always looking for attention and fishing for compliments. She put a lot of energy into staying in shape, and she loved for people to notice it. Seems like a serial killer would need to fade into the background. I don't think Catherine knew how to go unnoticed, and it isn't like her to do something all by herself. I can't see her skulking around like someone would if they were sneaking up on people and killing them." He held a branch aside so Peter could pass.
"Can't see her shooting Luthor. He was always flattering to her, I noticed. Not in her nature to get rid of a handsome young man who paid her compliments. They're saying she gave him money and maybe she wanted revenge. I don't think the money would have mattered to her, and for her to want revenge, she'd have to admit she lost him. I don't know that her pride would let her go down that path, if you know what I mean. I think her answer would be to find a younger man, who was more handsome, and parade him in front of Luthor. Someone like that fellow you brought to her party. You can't prove anything to someone who's dead."
"Interesting thought."
"Besides. If she was going to kill anyone, I think it would be a woman. Cut out the competition."
"So who do you think it was?"
"Hard to say. Makes me nervous, thinking that someone here killed Luthor and then framed Catherine and killed her, too. Makes me wonder if any of us are safe."
~ ~ ~
Lia looked up to see Bailey scrambling down the path. "Hey, Bailey, where's Kita?"
"She's around here somewhere, what's up with you? I haven't seen you in ages."
"I was having myself a good think. Only it's not getting anywhere."
"What's the problem?"
"I don't know what to think about Anna. The way she was talking today, she sounds like a different person. I'm confused. She sounded really heartless."
"Really? What did she say?"
"She thinks I should be happy Luthor's dead and just get on with my life. Like it's a gift."
"Sounds harsh," Bailey admitted, "but would that really be so bad?"
"It just doesn't seem right to be happy about people dying. And she said such awful things about Catherine."
"We've all been saying awful things about Catherine for months."
"This was different. Inhuman. Like she was talking about a bug and it didn't matter if it got squashed."
"There's another way to look at this."
"What do you mean?"
"Now Catherine can start over and try again in the next life."
"Try again?"
"She pretty much screwed this one up. She either deliberately taunted you by commissioning us to build her garden, or else she was so self-involved, so clueless, she didn't understand how hurtful that would be. Either way, I can't imagine her seeing the light this time around. So maybe it was time she started over."
"I don't know, Bailey. How can drown
ing be okay?"
"Life and death are illusions. We all just pass to another plane of existence. She's in a better place now, where she can see her life here on Earth and understand how she affected the people around her. Maybe it was karma for Catherine to die like that after she killed Luthor."
Irked, Lia snapped back, "You think? And what about Luthor. Was it karma for him to die like that? With his brains all over his car? You didn't have to see that. I did."
"I'm sorry you saw that. I can't say what Luthor's karma was. But he wasn't doing anyone any good here."
"Anna said Catherine did me a favor when she shot Luthor."
"Maybe she did, if you can let it go."
"I don't understand how you can think that."
"As long as I've known you, you've found a reason to be miserable no matter what's going on. When you and Luthor were together, he made you crazy, when you broke up you felt guilty, when you took him back, you hated yourself. Now he's gone and you're feeling guilty again. Happiness is a choice. You can accept what life gives you, embrace your circumstances, or you can change things. But you just sit in your mess and obsess."
"That's brutal, Bailey. Have I really been that bad? Have I been that awful to be around?"
"I've been your friend the best way I know how. You're talented and funny and you have a lot to give. But you choose to be caught in this cycle, and nothing I or anyone else has said has made any difference. You disliked Catherine when she was alive, now she's dead and it's like you lost your best friend, even though she had an affair with Luthor. Luthor cheated on you, he was a total scum-bag. And you're still giving him space in your head after he's been gone for two months. He doesn't deserve it, and it does him no good. You're using him as a reason to be miserable, and to push Peter away. I thought if Luthor was gone, you'd lighten up. But you seem determined to be unhappy, no matter what."
Lia stared hard at Bailey. There was something feral in Bailey's eyes, something she hadn't seen before. "Bailey, this doesn't sound like you. You're usually all 'love and light.'"
"Since when is putting something out of its misery not a loving thing to do?"
At Lia's shocked look, Bailey relented. "Don't take me so seriously. I'm just thinking out loud. I just want what's best for you, you know that, right?" She put her arm around Lia and gave her a squeeze.
"Yeah, sure."
"So what else is new? Jose tells me you got a gun. Is that true?"
"Yeah, I'm on a waiting list for the concealed-carry class."
"What brought that on?"
"Too much happening around here. It made me nervous."
"That's wild."
"Aren't you afraid? You dragged Catherine out of her pond, doesn't it stay with you?"
"Not really. What happens, happens. Fear isn't going to stop it, Fear just ruins everything else."
"Well, I feel better with a little protection, especially when I go walking alone in the woods."
"And I thought protection was something you got at the pharmacy."
Lia laughed, relieved to see her friend back to her usual self.
"What kind of gun did you get?"
"I went to see Terry and Donna a few days ago. Terry gave me this little two-shot derringer. He said I could give him a painting sometime, something for Donna. You should have heard him, telling me all about the history of derringers, how with the old ones, the bullets flew slow enough that you could see the bullet in midair. He said they flew about twenty-five miles an hour. Now they go twice as fast. Apparently now they have derringers fit with laser scopes for competition shooting. I didn't tell Terry, but I think that's pretty dumb, to put a laser scope on a gun that doesn't shoot straight."
"I've never seen a derringer, can I look at it?"
"Sure." Lia pulled the tiny gun out of her pocket. Bailey held out her hand and Lia gave it to her. "It's nothing special."
Bailey turned it over in her hand. "Aren't you concerned someone might take it away and use it on you?"
"Terry and I talked about that, about being ready to shoot if you pull your gun, not pulling it just to intimidate. He said people don't find derringers intimidating anyway, so you're better off shooting than waving it around."
"It's not very big at all, is it?" Bailey mused.
"No, I wanted something I could keep in a pocket. It only holds two bullets. And with a barrel this short, it's not accurate at any distance. That's probably why Terry was willing to let it go. If it won't take down a bull moose at fifty yards, I don't think he wants it."
Bailey turned it over. "Cute little thing, isn't it?"
"Funny, isn't it? I can't believe it has rosewood grips. Doesn't look like you could hurt anything with it. Never thought I'd own a gun. Times change, I guess."
"So are you going to start doing target practice?"
"I suppose I'll have to. I need to know how to use it."
Bailey held the gun in her lap. She looked in Lia's eyes. "I'm sorry if I came on too strong earlier. You know I love you, right?"
"Sure Bailey."
"I just hate seeing you so unhappy. I hate seeing anyone unhappy. It's a mission, you know? Eliminating pain and suffering."
"I've never seen you so serious."
"Sometimes the loving thing is the hard thing. Tell me Lia, if you had the chance, would you like a fresh start?"
"What do you mean?"
"A do-over. Just get off the merry-go-round and start again."
Lia looked down at her hands. "I haven't been that unhappy. Maybe lately I've been struggling, but..."
She heard the metallic click of the hammer at the same time as she felt the muzzle on the side of her head, pressing into her left temple. Time stopped. Lia froze. Horror gripped her. This was Bailey, her friend and partner, the woman who helped her pour 3,000 pounds of concrete. It made no sense.
Her world narrowed to the pressure of the derringer's barrel on her skin. Her mind went blank. Seconds passed while she fought the constriction in her chest and felt a single bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face. She pleaded, "What are you doing? Bailey, give it back to me!"
"I will in a minute. Hold still, I've got my finger on the trigger, you don't want me to flinch. It's a mission, like I said, getting rid of pain and unhappiness. This is the easiest way."
Baileys voice faded in and out as Lia struggled to grasp her situation. Her voice trembled, barely audible as she pushed past the paralysis in her chest. "You can't mean this. We're friends! Why would you do this? This isn't funny. Please give it back." Tears sprang from Lia's eyes.
"Keep your hands in your lap. If you so much as breathe, I'll pull the trigger."
"Please, Bailey, what do you want? Tell me what you want." Lia cried harder.
"I just want the world to be a better place. Can you honestly say the world isn't better without Luthor and Catherine?"
"N-n-no."
"That's right. Luthor was a bad person. He cheated on you. He lied and he used people. Catherine was mean-spirited and selfish. I don't think you're bad, but I do think you're desperately unhappy. You had a chance to change that and you didn't take it. So maybe you need a fresh start."
"Please don't do this."
"I envy you, really. There are so many times I'd have liked the chance to start over, but suicide is a sin."
"Isn't what you're doing a sin?"
"How can it be sinful to help someone move on without the stain of suicide on their soul? How can it be sinful to rid the world of self-generated misery?"
Lia grasped at a straw. "What about your karma?"
"Souls at the highest levels take on karmic burdens that ultimately serve enlightenment. Hitler was an ascended master who galvanized the world through his actions. Hitler served a higher purpose, and so do I."
"Please, let me go. I won't tell anyone. I don't want to die."
"I won't enjoy this. I will miss you."
"This is wrong, Bailey."
"It'll be okay. You'll see," Bailey soothed, Th
ink of that wonderful place you're going, and it'll all be over before you know it."
"No . . . " Lia forced the word out past her paralysis, a whisper of denial.
"Think loving thoughts, Lia."
Lia was suddenly bowled over. A gunshot blasted. Someone screamed. Bailey was rolling on the ground, bleeding, being harried by two balls of fur, one black, one golden. Chewy scolded in his high-pitched bark. Lia found herself on the ground. She scrambled through last year's leaves, desperately searching for the gun on the ground around her log. She caught the glint of steel out of the corner of her eye and lunged for it, fumbling the derringer into her hands. She pointed it at Bailey, panting raggedly. "Honey, Viola, stay!" The dogs stilled, but kept up a menacing growl. Bailey crouched on the ground with her arms over her head, begging, "Don't shoot! Don't let them hurt me!
Jim and Peter came crashing into the clearing. "My God, Lia," Peter shouted, "What are you doing?"
Chapter 23
Friday, July 22
The canvas of rich corals and greens was propped inside his screen door. The note read, "Dinner at 8? My place?" Peter smiled. The painting of the cactus flower reminded him of Lia, her guarded attitude and her vulnerability. Did she realize she'd given him a self-portrait? He carried it in and punched her number one-handed on his phone while Viola danced around him.
"Peter!"
"I got your very attractive invitation," he said as he held the painting against the wall, visualizing how it would look over the sofa. He rejected the spot, wanting a place where he would see it while he was sitting around.
"And?"
"Must I wait until eight?" He walked over to the opposite wall and propped it up on the book case, then bent down, ruffling Viola's fur. She licked his nose.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Depends. What are you going to feed me?"
"Liver."
"Ugh. Make it ten. Better yet, let me send over Viola instead. She loves liver."
"It would serve you right. It's a surprise."
"Promise it's not liver."
"I'm not making any promises, but you can bring dessert."
He followed a familiar, pulsing music and the scent of wood smoke to her backyard. Lia stood over the grill, poking at coals. Honey and Chewy were stationed nearby, tracking Lia's every move and drooling like Pavlov's dogs. Peter took a moment to enjoy Lia's fluid movements as she arranged a pair of baking potatoes and lowered the hood of the grill. Viola whimpered, straining at her leash. Lia turned at the sound.
A Shot in the Bark (A Dog Park Mystery) Page 17