Dead Weight

by Ragan, T. R.

  The phone rang and the landlord walked away, giving Lizzy time to grab a pen from her purse and write Mrs. Hardy’s telephone number on her hand.

  Chapter 28

  A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

  Morning came much too fast. Lizzy walked sleepily into the kitchen, surprised to see coffee already brewing. Hayley was sitting on the living room floor petting Hannah. “I thought you were allergic to cats?”

  “I am.” Hayley dangled a string over the kitten’s head, making Hannah twist and turn in an eager attempt to capture it.

  “I never heard you come in last night,” Lizzy said.

  “Liar.”

  Lizzy smiled. “You’re up early.”

  Hayley nodded and said, “I left something on the coffee table for you.”

  Forgoing the coffee for a moment, Lizzy made her way to the large envelope on the coffee table. She reached inside and pulled out a pile of pictures. Two dozen pictures at least: horrible, dirty sickening pictures.

  “Shit.” Every picture was of a younger Frank Fullerton with his daughter, Carol. “Shit, shit. Shit. This is not good. Where did you get these?”

  “Where do you think?”

  “You broke into the man’s house?”

  Hayley shrugged. “Do you mean the sicko pervert’s house? The window was left open.”

  “How? Last night?”

  “Over the weekend,” Hayley said matter-of-factly.

  “You were babysitting all weekend.”

  “Jessica pissed me off. I needed to blow off some steam.”

  “Do you have any idea how much trouble we could get into if anyone found out?”

  “I don’t think about those things. Ruth Fullerton is running out of time. And since you’re losing your mojo I thought I’d help you out.”

  Losing my mojo? Lizzy shook her head. “What is wrong with you, Hayley? What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

  “What’s wrong with you, Lizzy? What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “Tit for tat,” Lizzy said. “Is that it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Have you talked to Linda Gates lately?”

  “Have you?”

  Lizzy left the pictures for now, went to the kitchen and filled up a mug with hot coffee. When she returned to the main room she saw that Hayley had moved to the couch, one leg folded beneath the other.

  Obviously Hayley was angry about something and needed to blow off steam. Lizzy sat on the other end of the couch. “Tit for tat it is,” Lizzy said. “I haven’t seen Linda in over two weeks.”

  “I haven’t seen her in three,” Hayley said.

  “I haven’t seen Linda Gates because I’ve been busy.”

  “Ditto.”

  “I have been busy trying to keep my business running. And while I’m spinning around in my hamster wheel, I’ve let my personal life go to pot.”

  “You and Jared broke up?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “So what happened with moving in with him?”

  “I chickened out and told him I wasn’t ready.”

  “And now you’re regretting it or are you just upset about the hot next-door neighbor?”

  “How did you—oh, Jessica.”

  Hayley nodded. “I never tagged you as the jealous type.”

  “That’s because I’m not...at least I didn’t think I was. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it...feeling insecure and wishy washy.”

  “I believe it’s called love.”

  Lizzy sipped her coffee. “Sounds like you have some experience in the field.”

  Hayley grunted. “If you ask me, love doesn’t exist. They, whoever they are, say love is some sort of intangible thing—unconditional and almighty.” Hayley shook her head in disgust. “Come on, really?”

  There was a short pause before Hayley continued.

  “Maybe I don’t believe in love because human beings, overall, are such pricks.”

  Lizzy didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing.

  “Maybe I don’t have the capacity to love, or maybe I just don’t understand it. Love seems so stifling. Not my thing, I guess.”

  “Well, maybe someday one of us will be able to enlighten the other on the subject of love.”

  “Cool.”

  “About breaking into Frank’s house...”

  Hayley nodded, waited.

  Lizzy couldn’t hold it in. “Are you crazy?”

  “Most people who know me would say yes.”

  “What would you say?”

  “That you ask too many questions.”

  “Hayley, do you understand the danger you’re putting yourself in every time you do something like holding a knife to a man’s throat or breaking and entering?”

  “I do.”

  “But you’re not worried?”

  “Not one bit.”

  Before Lizzy could continue her lecture, Hayley said, “Fire me if you want. But I want you to know that won’t stop me from going after assholes like Frank Fullerton.”

  “So you’ve decided to become some sort of vigilante?”

  “I don’t think of myself as much of anything. But everybody likes to put a label on shit, so call me whatever makes you happy.”

  After escaping the evil grasp of Spiderman, Hayley had confided in Lizzy and told her that for the first time in a long while she wanted to live. But Lizzy was just now realizing that Hayley might possibly want to live for different reasons than Lizzy first thought. “Where have you been going late at night?”

  “I thought you weren’t going to try and be my mother.”

  “If I was your mother, I wouldn’t give a shit where you were at night, would I?”

  Hayley looked away.

  “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just that I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

  “Well, don’t be.”

  Silence engulfed the room.

  “Do you want me to move out of your apartment?” Hayley asked. “I would completely understand. Your place, your rules.”

  “No. I just want you to talk to me, Hayley.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to help you.”

  Hayley stood and took her empty coffee mug to the kitchen sink. Then she grabbed her backpack, pulled the strap over her shoulder and headed for the door. After unlocking the deadbolt, she looked over her shoulder at Lizzy. “You can’t help me anymore than you already have.”

  “Then just do me a favor and be careful. I don’t want to see you end up getting in trouble for trying to do what’s right, but going about it all wrong. You’ve got a natural instinct for investigative work. You could go far in this business. And don’t ever forget that you’re one of the smart ones, Hayley. So be smart.”

  Lizzy went to the door. “And thanks for the pictures,” she called out before Hayley could get away.

  ***

  Lizzy went to her bedroom and turned on her computer.

  She had called Jared back last night, but they only had a moment to talk before his pager went off. He was working on a whopper of a case, something to do with money laundering by a federal judge in another state but with connections here in Sacramento. If convicted, the judge would be removed from office immediately.

  Last night Lizzy had transferred Vivian’s mother’s telephone number from her hand to a notepad. She picked up the phone and called the number.

  A woman’s voice sounded on the other end of the line after the third ring. “Hello.”

  “Hello. My name is Lizzy Gardner and I’m calling about Vivian Hardy. Is this her mother?”

  “What now? Is she in the hospital again?”

  Lizzy took that as a yes. “Does Vivian go to the hospital often?”

  A ponderous sigh could be heard on the other end. “I have no idea. I just remember getting a call from one of those med centers once telling me my daughter needed someone to pick her up.”

  Lizzy could hear shuffling
on the other end.

  “That was over a year ago,” the woman said. “I make notations on my calendar when she calls. It looks like we talked a few months ago.”

  “I went to her apartment and knocked several times,” Lizzy told the woman. “There was no answer and the landlord hasn’t seen her in months.”

  “Vivian likes her privacy. You would too if you needed more than one fireman to get you from place to place.”

  “Firemen?”

  “She has two bum knees and when you’re over 300 pounds with bad knees, you need help. She won’t listen to me. Never has, never will. What is it that you need exactly?”

  “Apparently Vivian had joined the Weight Watcher Warriors, an online weight loss group. She befriended a girl named Diane Kramer who has been missing for some time.”

  “That name sounds familiar.”

  “Did you meet Diane?”

  “No, no. I haven’t made the trip to California to see Vivian, but I do remember her talking about a woman named Diane when she called last. She was worried about her. That in itself is uncharacteristic of Vivian, you know, to worry about anyone but herself, so the name stuck in my head.”

  Lizzy decided to give Mrs. Hardy time to think...see if she remembered anything else.

  “If I remember correctly, Diane was even larger than Vivian. No,” she amended, “I think it was the other way around. Anyhow, Vivian didn’t like the way the woman’s sister treated her, trying to push Diane into losing weight. I couldn’t speak my mind, of course, because I agreed with the sister. But there’s no helping someone that wants to eat their way to an early grave.”

  Suddenly Lizzy felt sorry for Vivian. “Do you remember anything else your daughter might have said last time the two of you spoke?”

  “She did talk about joining a fat camp, or something.”

  “Do you know where?”

  “I don’t. Wait...she said something about a mountain cabin. That’s all I know.”

  “Do you remember if the cabin was located in California?”

  “No, I don’t remember, but I would assume so.”

  “If you remember anything else, would you mind if I left you my number so you can call me?”

  “That would be fine.”

  Lizzy exchanged information with the woman, surprised when Mrs. Hardy didn’t say another peep about her own daughter. Something like: “Would you let me know if you hear from Vivian?” Or “I’d appreciate a call if you hear anything about my daughter.” Nothing.

  Lizzy got off the phone and made notes that she filed away. Then she made a list:

  Diane Kramer Missing Person Case

  Give photo of Diane to police

  Find Vivian Hardy

  Talk to Andrea Kramer

  Have a nice long chat with Anthony Melbourne

  Send daily emails to WWW, the online group

  Stay in touch with Debra Taphorn and Michael Denton

  Carol Fullerton Cold Case

  Ask Ruth Fullerton about Frank’s relationship with his daughter

  Hold off a few days before telling Detective Roth about the pictures

  Have Jessica or Hayley follow Carol’s friend, Ellen Woodson

  Find out if Hayley heard anything re: Burning Man

  There were three new messages from the WWW group. Nothing important. Lizzy looked at the clock. It was time to get ready for exercise. Instead of working out on the treadmill, she planned to give Melbourne’s brain a workout. Following him around wasn’t doing anybody any good. It was costing Andrea Kramer a lot of money for Lizzy to get toned.

  Although Lizzy liked money as much as the next guy, she preferred to do actual work for the money she earned. Besides, she was tired of doing push-ups and lunges. A hike here and there, a good ol’ walk down the street, maybe even a bike ride might be alright, but exercising every day with an egomaniac health guru wasn’t her thing.

  She needed to take a lesson or two from Hayley. That girl would never waste her time doing something as stupid as working out every day in the hopes of learning one little tidbit about a case. No, Hayley might get carried away more often than not, but she knew how to take the bull by the horns and get the work done.

  Hayley was absolutely right.

  Lizzy was losing her mojo. Starting today, though, she planned to get it back. After taking the bloody photo of Diane Kramer to Detective Roth for analyzing, she needed to find a way to get into Vivian Hardy’s apartment.

  Chapter 29

  Pumped Up Kicks

  If there was one thing Jessica didn’t want to be when she grew up, it was a private investigator. After sitting in her car for three hours, her butt was sore and her neck was stiff. She had borrowed her mom’s car and she was parked a few houses away from Ellen Woodson’s house.

  Well, she reconsidered, if she ever was a private investigator, instead of a psychologist or a criminologist, she would have to pay someone else to do surveillance...as Lizzy had done when she’d assigned her this tedious, boring job.

  Why couldn’t Hayley do this? What was Hayley doing in her free time? That’s the person they should be watching, Jessica thought. They should be watching Hayley.

  She’d been following Ellen Woodson in hopes that she would lead them to Carol. Today Ellen had gone home for lunch instead of to the mall like she’d done the other two days. A three hour lunch seemed a bit much and Jessica thought about leaving.

  The good news was that while Jessica was sitting here, she’d gotten a head start on one of her classes that wouldn’t begin for another few weeks. The professor had been kind enough to let her students know what their first assignment would be. Among other classes, Jessica would be taking Introduction to Criminal Justice and Society at California State University Sacramento.

  She put her book away, afraid she might fall asleep if she read another word about societal response to criminals. She drank from her water bottle and then turned up the music and tapped her fingers against the console in rhythm to “Pumped up Kicks” by Foster the People. She listened to the words and smiled when she realized she was listening to the CD Hayley had made for her.

  Before Foster the People could sing the second verse, Ellen Woodson came out of her house rolling a piece of luggage behind her. The woman looked around suspiciously before opening her trunk and shoving the luggage inside.

  Holy Moly! Jessica couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  This was the longest lunch Ellen had taken so far. And now luggage?

  Jessica was a glass-half-empty sort of person and she figured hell would have to freeze over before Ellen Woodson would do anything remotely out of her regularly scheduled day.

  Trying not to get overly excited, Jessica kept her head back against the headrest and made sure not to make any sudden moves.

  Although both sides of the street were lined with parked cars, as far as she could tell, her car was the only one with somebody in the driver’s seat. If she made any fast moves, Ellen might see movement and then she would know they were on to her. The music suddenly sounded too loud, but there was no way she was going to risk leaning forward and turning the volume down. The moment Ellen Woodson shut her trunk and climbed in behind the wheel, Jessica felt safe enough to turn the music off. Her hands were shaking. She felt as if she was following a criminal instead of a harmless bank teller.

  Ever since Jessica was shot six months ago, she’d been a little wary about investigative work. That had happened right after she’d started working for Lizzy. Thinking a math tutor was Spiderman, the serial killer roaming the streets of Sacramento at the time, Jessica had brought a gun into the math tutor’s house. Instead of finding a serial killer, she’d found herself in the middle of a crazy sex scandal. One of two men shot her. The men, it turned out, spent their weekends searching for a poor lonely soul to dress up and play with. They threatened their victim with his life while forcing him to perform sexual acts. They filmed the whole thing and then, of course, turned around and sold the video to thousand
s of perverts around the world.

  What was the world coming to? Jessica wondered as she started the car and merged onto the street, careful to stay well behind Ellen Woodson’s car.

  ***

  “I’m glad you’re home,” Lizzy said the moment Hayley walked through the door to her apartment.

  Hayley took a step back. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I need to ask you for a favor.”

  “No, I’m not going to stop going out at night. And no, I’m not going to put away your dishes, too. If it’s about that candy dish I broke, I’m sorry. I didn’t see it when I pulled out the coffee mug. You really need to organize your cupboards better.”

  “It’s nothing like that,” Lizzy said. “You broke my candy dish?”

  “It really wasn’t that nice anyhow. I wouldn’t serve my best friend candy corn in that thing.”

  “Do you have a best friend?”

  “No, but that’s not the point. That dish was ugly. I already did you a favor.”

  Lizzy didn’t care about the dish and she knew Hayley felt bad. Besides, she had other things on her mind. “I need you to help me break in to somebody’s apartment,” Lizzy blurted.

  Hayley’s eyes narrowed. “You just gave me a big lecture this morning about being smart and now you’re asking me to show you how to break and enter?”

  “I know. It’s horrible of me. And wrong. But I’m not asking you to do it, I’m just asking you to show me the way.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Sadly, yes, I am. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Jared all day, hoping he could get me a fast-pass to getting a warrant but he’s working a case right now and even if he had time to call me back, he certainly isn’t going to have time to get me the warrant I need sooner rather than later. Legally the process could take fifteen minutes, depending on the circumstance. The problem is, Vivian Hardy could be in trouble, but she has signed dozens of documents that do not allow the landlord to enter her apartment. Besides, there are no smells coming out of the place.”