Last Call

by Allyson K. Abbott

  Hope squeezed her eyes closed and gritted her teeth. “That bastard,” she muttered. “He deserved it. When I asked him what he had done with her, he said she was dead, that she’d choked on some food, and by the time he got her to the hospital, it was too late.”

  “He lied,” Duncan said.

  Hope shook her head and let out a humorless laugh. “Where is she now?”

  “She’s safe,” Duncan said. “She’s with a foster family that is more than capable of caring for her.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” Hope scoffed. “That child is a demon.”

  I wanted to shake the woman. “She is not a demon,” I said. “And if you feel that way about her, why on earth did you want her back?”

  “I didn’t want her back,” Hope snapped. “At least not for any length of time. But I needed some money. I lost my home, I lost my car, I wasn’t able to get a job—”

  “Because of the drugs?” I said.

  Hope didn’t answer. She just glared at me. After a moment of eye-to-eye standoff, she said, “I realized if I was dead, my sister could claim Felicity and apply for assistance to care for her. That money would have come in real handy.”

  “It was your sister who died?” Duncan said.

  Hope stared at him for the longest time without answering.

  “Did you kill her?” he prompted.

  “No!” Hope snapped. “She overdosed.”

  “She’s lying,” I said.

  Hope shot me a dirty look. Her defiance was once again at the forefront, but it didn’t last long. After a few seconds of glaring at me, her body sagged. She looked down at her lap. “I went to my sister for help last year,” she said. “I was living on the streets; I had nowhere to go. She took me in, and after awhile, I was able to convince her to try some cocaine. From there, I talked her into some crystal meth, and then heroin. Pretty soon, she was as hooked as I was. But we were burning through her money pretty fast, and then she lost her job.” She paused, sighing heavily. “I knew I was going to have to do something else soon.”

  She fidgeted with her fingers for a moment. “When she died, I realized I could assume her identity. That’s when I got the idea about Felicity. I knew Sheldon had discovered my lie about her, and removed her from the facility where I’d placed her.”

  More silence, and then Hope looked up at Duncan with tears in her eyes, tears I felt sure were for herself rather than anyone else. “I just thought Felicity would be happier with her momma, and we could get some money, and stay in my sister’s house. I was going to get clean, get off the drugs, and try to get a job.”

  “She’s lying again,” I said.

  Hope’s face contorted into a mask of fury. “Screw you!” she said.

  “Get her out of here,” Duncan said to the uniformed officers.

  One of the officers approached Hope and took hold of her arm. “Come with me, please,” he said.

  I half-expected Hope to put up a fight, but she went with the men without resisting.

  I had no sympathy for the woman. Though I knew we’d likely never be able to prove it unless she confessed, I felt certain Hope had intentionally overdosed her sister. She had killed her sister, killed her ex-husband, and I felt certain that in time she would have killed Felicity, if she’d ever been able to get custody of her. Felicity was nothing more than a paycheck to her.

  Fortunately, Felicity was safe now. But she was also all alone in the world, and that saddened me.

  Chapter 27

  The following morning, I awoke to a mishmash of emotions. I was sleeping alone in my bed for the first time in a while, and though it felt good to be back in my own space, I missed waking up to Duncan’s smiling face.

  I consoled myself with the knowledge that I’d be seeing him soon enough and got out of bed to get ready for the day ahead. As I was setting the coffeepot in my kitchen to brew, my cell phone rang, and I saw it was Mal.

  “Hey, Mal,” I answered. “I’m just getting the coffee going. Want to come up and have a cup with me?”

  “I’d love to. Be there in a sec. Can you meet me at your apartment door?”

  I went down to let him in. Mal had a set of keys to the bar, and while both he and Duncan had planned a long late night of follow-ups on the Janssen case, Mal informed me that he was going to continue to stay in my basement for now, until the business with Wade Klein was settled. When I let him in, he looked haggard and worn, and I suspected he hadn’t slept at all, but rather had just now returned to the bar from an all-nighter.

  I whipped up some scrambled eggs with cheese and some bacon for the two of us, and we settled in at the kitchen table. “How did things go last night?” I asked him.

  “Good,” he said. “Hope Janssen confessed to shooting Sheldon in exchange for a plea deal. She was staking out Sheldon’s place, and she said she saw me go in that morning, heard the gunshot, and saw me come running out shortly afterward. After I was gone, she went over and tried the door and found it unlocked, so she went inside, unsure what had happened. She thought perhaps I had shot Sheldon, and she admitted she was disappointed to find out otherwise. Apparently, she and Sheldon had quite the confrontation. She demanded to know where Felicity was and stormed through the house looking for her. When Sheldon told her that story about Felicity choking and dying, she snapped, grabbed the gun, which Sheldon had left on the dining room table, and shot him. Then she ran. She was waiting on some false IDs to be made so she could disappear when you and Duncan came to visit. Needless to say, she was shocked when she realized Felicity was still alive. Any smart person would have stuck with the original plan and disappeared, but Hope’s greed and her need for drugs overruled.”

  “So you’re in the clear?” I asked.

  Mal nodded and smiled.

  “What about the evidence you got from Klein’s books?”

  “It looks promising. I’m hoping to get a search warrant soon.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Mal. But I’m sorry you had to go through all you did.”

  “Hey,” he said with a shrug and a smile, “I came out on the right side of things in the end, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Speaking of being on the right side of things,” I said, “I think a certain young lady who let you stay in her lake house is still harboring some serious feelings for you. Maybe you two should give it another try. You still have feelings for her, don’t you?”

  Mal smiled again. “Sabrina is a great gal, no doubt about it. But it just didn’t work for us. I think we’re from two different worlds or something.” He paused and sighed. “I don’t know what went wrong. It just felt awkward.”

  “Maybe that’s because you guys put too much pressure on yourselves. I mean, you gave up your life and job back in Washington to come out here and be with her. That’s a lot of pressure.”

  Mal nodded slowly, finishing up his last piece of bacon. “It was good to see her again,” he said.

  “Give her a call,” I urged. “I’m betting she’s willing to take another stab at it.”

  “Maybe I will.” He grabbed his napkin, wiped his mouth, and pushed back his chair. “In the meantime, I’ve got more work to do. What’s on your agenda for today?”

  “I’m waiting to hear from Duncan regarding the Knutson case. If all goes as planned, we’re hoping we can bust Caroline today.”

  Mal chuckled.

  “What?” I said.

  “Now you’re even using cop slang,” he said. “I think we’ve fully converted you.”

  He got up, gave me a kiss on the head, and then left. I finished my own meal, washed the dishes, and then headed for the shower. It felt good to be back in my own shower again, and I took a little longer than usual.

  Once I was dressed and ready for the day, I headed downstairs. It was only nine-thirty, so my day staff hadn’t come in yet. I called Cora to see if she was up and about, and invited her to come over early so I could talk to her.

  “What about?” she asked.

  “I�
��ll tell you when you get here,” I said.

  “Ooh, a secret,” she cooed. “I’ll be there in two shakes.”

  True to her word, she was knocking on the front door seven minutes later. Her office, a portion of which also served as her home, was only blocks away.

  “Okay,” she said, settling into a chair and placing her laptop on the table. “What’s up? Spill the beans.” She opened her laptop and booted it up, as if she thought I was going to ask her to do some research for me.

  “Duncan proposed to me,” I said.

  Cora froze, her eyes wide. “No kidding?” she said.

  “No kidding.”

  “Did you give him an answer?”

  I shook my head. “I told him I needed some time to think about it.”

  “Why?” Cora said, making a disbelieving face at me. “You love him, don’t you?”

  “I do, but come on, Cora. We haven’t known each other all that long, and we haven’t talked about a lot of things, and we have no idea if we’ll be at all compatible over the long term.”

  Cora waved away my objections. “Nobody knows if they’re compatible over the long term when they decide to get married. Even if you’re greatly compatible, there will always be compromises to make, and disagreements to have. What matters is your commitment to each other. Are you ready to be committed to him? To making it work?”

  “I am,” I said. “I’m not as sure about him, though.”

  “So have a long engagement and live together. See what happens. Don’t let the opportunity slip away unless you have some serious doubts.”

  I said nothing.

  “Do you have serious doubts?” she asked me after a while.

  Did I? I had doubts, but then, those came with every relationship. When I didn’t answer right away, Cora tried a different tack.

  “Tell me the things you’re sure of,” she said.

  “I’m sure I love him,” I said. “I’m sure I have feelings for him that are stronger than any feelings I’ve ever had for anyone else.” I thought a moment. “I’m sure we are very compatible in the bedroom,” I added with a wiggle of my brows.

  “That’s important.”

  “I’m also sure I don’t want to lose him,” I concluded.

  “Sounds to me like you’ve made up your mind.”

  “But how do I know if he feels the same way about me?”

  “Oh, he does.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you don’t know he’s looking. And I’ve heard the way his voice changes when he’s talking to or about you, unlike the way it sounds with anyone else. I may not have your synesthesia, but some things are obvious even to we simple mortals.”

  My phone rang then, and when I saw it was Duncan calling, I had a momentary panic, thinking he somehow knew we were discussing him. “Good morning, Duncan,” I said, letting Cora know who was calling.

  “Good morning, sunshine. Are you ready to go after Mrs. Knutson with me?”

  “I’m ready any time. Do you want me to meet you somewhere, or are you going to pick me up?”

  “I’ll pick you up in twenty,” he said. “I’ve got to grab something on the way. I’ll text you when I’m out front.”

  I disconnected the call and filled Cora in on our plans. The front door of the bar opened then, and Debra came in to start her shift for the day.

  “You’re here early,” she said to Cora.

  “I was called in for a consultation,” Cora said with a wink.

  “More of that crime stuff?” Debra said in a tired voice. Many of my employees were intrigued by what the Capone Club and I did, and they participated whenever they could. Debra was an exception.

  “Nope,” Cora said. “Duncan proposed to her and she’s not sure what to do.”

  Debra stopped with her coat half off, gaping at me. “He proposed?”

  I nodded, giving Cora a dirty look for letting my secret out of the bag.

  “That’s fantastic!” Debra said, slipping her coat the rest of the way off and tossing it onto a barstool. “And about time, I might say.”

  “It hasn’t been very long at all,” I protested. “That’s part of the problem. We’ve only known each other for a few months.”

  Debra waved away my objection the same way Cora had. “Time is irrelevant. Sometimes you just know, you know? And with the two of you, it was obvious from day one.”

  “Really?” My voice was rife with skepticism.

  “Yes, really,” Debra said. “Ask anyone here.” She headed behind the bar and started her morning prep work. The front door opened again and Pete came in with my cook, Jon, on his tail.

  “Morning, guys,” Debra hollered from behind the bar. “Guess who finally popped the question?”

  Both men turned and looked at me expectantly.

  “Hey,” I said, “How do you know she isn’t talking about Cora and Tiny?”

  Jon rolled his eyes at me.

  Pete said, “It’s about time. You two have been dancing around this thing for far too long.”

  I looked over at Cora, who gave me back a smug look that said told you so.

  I shook my head and smiled. “Okay, I give.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to tell him yes?” Cora asked.

  “I haven’t made my mind up yet,” I told her. “But you guys have given me some things to think about.”

  With that, I got up and helped Pete and Debra with their morning prep until Duncan texted me that he was out front. I thanked them all for their candor and advice, grabbed my coat and gloves, and headed out.

  As soon as I was settled in the car, Duncan leaned over and kissed me. “Missed you last night,” he said with a sigh.

  “I missed you, too,” I told him, and it was true. “So what’s our plan?”

  Duncan filled me in as we drove to Roberta’s police station. They’d already made arrangements with Caroline to come down to the station with her attorney, Natalie Sokoloff, in tow.

  “Was the ME able to come up with anything?” I asked.

  Duncan shook his head. “No, but he did give us some information we can use. We’ll just have to hope Caroline is easily rattled.”

  We arrived at the station, and Duncan went around to the trunk of his car and took out a small metal tank. He carried it inside and set it on the table in the interview room we were going to use. Roberta found us in there and greeted us both with a cheery, “Good morning.”

  We removed our coats, which Roberta took somewhere to hang, and when she returned we spent a few minutes going over the plan once again. Five minutes later, a uniformed officer poked his head in the room and said, “Your suspect is here.”

  “Send them on back,” Roberta said. “And make sure the camera is rolling before they enter the room.”

  “Got it,” the officer said.

  A few minutes later, Caroline Knutson entered the room with Natalie Sokoloff at her side. As soon as she stepped into the room and saw the tank on the table, Caroline froze. But it was a brief hesitation, there and gone in a second.

  “Come on in and take a seat,” Roberta said. Extra chairs had been placed in the room prior to our arrival, and Roberta waved a hand toward the two chairs on the far side of the table, right in front of the tank. “Can I take your coats?” Roberta offered.

  “No need,” Sokoloff said. “I doubt we’ll be here very long.”

  “Suit yourself,” Roberta said with a shrug and a smile. She sat across from Caroline, and Duncan sat down beside her. I settled into a chair that was positioned in the corner behind them, giving me full view of Caroline.

  Roberta informed them that the interview was being recorded, stated the date, the time, the case involved, and all the people present. She then recited the Miranda warning to Caroline. Once that was done, she said, “Okay, here’s the thing. We’ve had a hard time dismissing your husband’s death, Mrs. Knutson, because the ME wasn’t able to find any direct cause. And it seems
you have a fair amount of motive for wanting your husband out of the way.”

  Caroline opened her mouth, presumably to object to this statement, but Sokoloff silenced her with a hand on her arm.

  “We researched your computer,” Roberta went on, “thinking we might find some internet searches about poisons, or ways to kill someone.”

  Caroline bristled, but she pursed her lips and remained silent.

  “We didn’t find anything,” Roberta said, and Caroline’s mouth relaxed. “We searched your husband’s computer, too, thinking you might have used his, but we didn’t find anything there either.”

  Sokoloff tilted her head and gave Roberta an impatient look.

  “But we did find something on your computer that made us curious,” Roberta went on. “It was an email from the library, informing you that a book you requested was in. You had deleted the email, of course, but those kinds of things often aren’t really gone, so we were able to resurrect it.”

  “And what was the book referenced in the email?” Sokoloff asked, sounding bored.

  “It was a design book of some sort,” Roberta said dismissively. “The book itself wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that Mrs. Knutson used the library. So I went to her branch and had a chat with some of the workers there, and got a look at some of the other books she’s checked out in the past.”

  Caroline looked off to the side, her expression worried for a moment, but after a few seconds, she appeared to relax.

  “We didn’t find anything interesting there either,” Roberta said.

  “Is there a point to this?” Sokoloff asked.

  “There is,” Roberta said. “Your client’s history of checked-out books didn’t offer anything of interest, but one of the librarians did. She knows you, Mrs. Knutson, and she recalled a day when you came into the library and spent a lot of time on one of the computers. You then pulled a book from the shelves that you sat down and read. She noticed the title of the book and it concerned her; that’s why she remembered it. You might recall that one of the library staff members approached you one day and asked if you were okay.”

  Judging from the worried look on Caroline’s face, she did, indeed, recall the event.