Walk Through the Valley

by Debbie Viguié

  She nodded. “I didn’t understand until I was an adult that that was what was going on. When I took the job redesigning his house, though, I already knew. I knew what he did for a living, but I needed experience. I needed work. So I said yes.”

  “What did you do for him?” Cindy asked.

  “I redesigned everything. I mean, it was a dream come true, especially for someone just starting out. There were things, though, that he wanted that I knew...I knew they weren’t right. But I did the job. I was afraid not to after a while. He had secret rooms put in all over for all kinds of things. There was a panic room and a few different safes. I designed an entire weapons room where he could store things. The more I gave him the more he let slip details about the things he needed and why he needed them. Then, the final part.”

  She came to a halt and tears started running down her cheeks. “He needed one last special room with a furnace that could burn at 1800 degrees Fahrenheit. I knew, knew what it was for, and yet I got it for him anyway.”

  That was how hot you needed it to burn to cremate bodies. He glanced at Cindy and could tell by the look on her face that she had come to that conclusion as well.

  “I did my job. I did everything he asked. I even gave him his horrible sunflower carpet that he wanted. He said it was a constant reminder that life is fleeting and precious. I swore to myself that I would never again be in that position, afraid of my client. I finished the job and I left.”

  “But not before you took pictures of everything,” Cindy said.

  Lisa nodded. “I documented everything. I kept those files for insurance, you know, just in case. Then a few years passed and nothing happened and I thought...I thought I was safe. Then, when that car hit us, I knew it was because of him. In my mind I thought that it had finally caught up with me. I was just sorry that Kyle was there.”

  “He had read the article about you and suddenly he realized you probably had information about all his secret rooms, enough to give to the police if you ever wanted to,” Cindy said.

  She nodded.

  “Where are the files now? Do you keep them at your office?”

  Lisa shook her head. “No, not those. They are where they’ve been since the day I finished that job. They’re in a safe deposit box here in town.”

  “Lisa, you have to go to the police with this,” Cindy said.

  “No! The only reason he hasn’t killed me yet is because he doesn’t know where they are, what I’ve done with them. He wants me to give them to him and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Then he really won’t have a reason not to kill you,” Jeremiah said.

  “He won’t. He values my dad’s services too much.”

  Jeremiah and Cindy exchanged glances. He could tell she was thinking the same thing. Lisa was a dead woman either way.

  Mark had managed to go nearly a whole day without having to think about or talk about Milt’s death. He could feel himself beginning to unwind. Vacation was definitely good for him and he couldn’t tell how much of Traci’s happy glow was inspired by Tahiti and how much was because of the baby. All he knew for sure was that she looked amazing and he couldn’t be happier.

  It was time for lunch and they had made their way to the restaurant. He was even getting used to the leisurely meals on the island. Lunch generally took two hours. Dinner took a minimum of three with course after course of food arriving.

  As they entered the dining room he glanced around, noting the other hotel guests present. One table held a young family with a small girl who was asleep, her head resting on a stuffed bear. He continued to look around and winced slightly when he saw Elisa at one of the tables. Fortunately she was engrossed in reading something. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss Milt’s death with her some more. He almost turned around and walked out, but Traci eagerly pulled him toward a table before he could.

  No sooner had they sat down than Elisa made a beeline for them. She sat down opposite Mark and leaned across the table. “The police are here. Apparently Milt did die from ingesting a peanut product. They’re with the manager and the head chef in the kitchen right now.”

  Mark groaned. That was almost certainly going to delay their own meal and he was starving. He turned and looked at Traci who was staring wide-eyed at the writer.

  “Elisa, this is my wife, Traci. Traci, this is Elisa.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Elisa said, shaking Traci’s hand.

  “I love your books,” Traci said.

  “I think that might be an understatement,” Mark said.

  “It’s always good to meet a fan,” Elisa said with a smile.

  Mark’s stomach rumbled loudly.

  “I’m starving, too,” Traci said.

  “Me three. I’ve been here for half an hour, but with all that’s going on in the kitchen, I don’t know how long before we’ll see food,” Elisa said, echoing Mark’s own fears.

  His stomach growled again.

  “Okay, that does it. We have to get to the bottom of this so we can eat,” he said, standing up.

  He leaned down and kissed Traci. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Go get ‘em,” she said with a grin.

  Mark moved toward the kitchen with Elisa beside him. “It’s nice that your wife is so supportive,” she said.

  “She’s beyond supportive.”

  In the kitchen they found Nina, the manager, one of the policemen from the other day, and the head chef. It looked like any other kitchen staff had vacated the premises for the duration of the inspection.

  “As you can see, there is nothing here,” the chef said, closing a refrigerator.

  The manager and the policeman both nodded in Mark and Elisa’s direction.

  “It has to have come from here,” Nina fumed. “My husband was killed by your negligence.”

  “Madam, I can assure you, we had nothing to do with it,” the chef said.

  “Nina, I thought you were convinced that he was murdered by one of his enemies from home?” Mark said.

  She hesitated for a moment and Mark realized she was trying to decide which story to stick with. Confusion and fear warred briefly in her eyes and he knew in an instant that Elisa was right. Nina had killed her husband.

  “Since he likely died within an hour of consuming the peanut product, the only people who could have killed your husband were the ones that had access to his food or drink at breakfast,” Mark said.

  She nodded slowly, clearly ready to jump on whatever theory he presented.

  “If there are no peanut containing products in this kitchen, then we can rightly deduce that whoever had the peanut product added it to his food or drink knowing that he had the allergy and with the full intent of killing him.”

  “We have gone through the kitchen trash with the police. No one has disposed of anything there,” the manager said.

  “Which means that whoever did it took the evidence with them for disposal at some other place at some other time,” Mark said.

  “That would follow,” the police officer said.

  “And I’m guessing that person didn’t realize that the kitchen had been so thoroughly prepped to be peanut free. They thought that surely there would be something, even a bit of peanut oil, that would be found and his death would be labeled an unfortunate accident.”

  He noticed that when he said the words “peanut oil” Nina turned noticeably paler.

  “Are you saying one of his enemies followed him here and poisoned him?” she asked.

  “No. I’m saying that one of his enemies arrived with him here and poisoned him,” Mark said, staring meaningfully at her.

  “Can you prove what you are saying?” the policeman asked.

  “I think I just might be able to prove that Nina killed her husband, yes.”

  “That’s a lie!” she shrieked, lunging toward him.

  The manager grabbed her and pulled her back.

  “How can you prove it?” the policeman asked.

  “H
ave you allowed her to remove anything from the room where she was staying with Milt?”

  “Not a thing. We sealed and locked the room.”

  “And we provided her with a few clothes and other such items from our store and moved her to a different room,” the manager added.

  “Then if I’m right, all the evidence we need should still be in her old room.”

  Nina began yelling and sputtering, growing more incoherent by the second. Mark only understood snatches of what she was saying such as “my property” and “sue the hotel”. She was so out of control that he knew he had to be right.

  Together they exited the back door of the kitchen and made their way to the hut where Milt had died. The policeman held on to Nina’s arm the entire way. Once there, he passed the key to the manager who opened the padlock on the door.

  They all made their way inside and spread out through the room. “In the bathroom you will find Nina’s toiletries bag. There are a couple of small vials of perfume. I believe one of those actually contains peanut oil,” Mark said.

  The policeman handed Nina over to the manager who put a hand on her arm. The man then entered the bathroom and returned with the bag in question. He pulled out the first vial, sniffed it, then put it back. The second one was just over half empty and he opened the top of it and sniffed. He then placed his finger over the top and tilted a little of the liquid inside onto it. He sniffed it again and then touched it to the tip of his tongue.

  “Peanut oil,” he confirmed.

  Nina visibly deflated.

  “Why did she not throw this out?”

  “She couldn’t throw it in the trash in here because it would be noticeable. I’m guessing the reason she didn’t dispose of it when she went to the beach and waited for him to die was just in case she needed to give him a second dose. He had an epinephrine pen in his things, but I’m guessing she was counting on him not being able to use it. Although, she might have tampered with it as well.”

  Mark walked into the bathroom and returned with the package in question. He nodded his head slowly. “Yes, look. It’s expired by a few months. I’m guessing he wasn’t the kind of man to risk his health given that he called months in advance to discuss the allergy with the manager. I’d be willing to bet she held on to this expired one and when the time came to get ready for the trip she swapped it out for a new one that he had, ensuring that even if he managed to use the pen it wouldn’t save him.”

  “So, you’ve been planning to kill him for months?” the policeman asked.

  “No! I just. I don’t know why I kept that old one. I found the airline tickets to Tahiti last week. He was taking some other woman. I pretended that I hadn’t seen the name on the second ticket. He wasn’t willing to admit to the affair so he took me on the trip instead.”

  “That’s why he called to change the flowers he wanted in the room so last minute,” the manager said.

  “I knew he was going to dump me, just like he did his ex-wife.”

  Elisa smiled at Mark. He nodded his head. She had called it.

  “After all I did for that man! How could he?”

  Nina dissolved into bitter sobs.

  “On that note, I think our work here is done,” Mark said. He turned to the manager. “Is the kitchen back open for business?”

  The man nodded. “I’ll tell the chef right away. Thank you for your help.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said.

  He turned and left and Elisa went with him. As soon as they were out of earshot he said, “You were right about Nina.”

  “Good catch on the perfume vial with peanut oil,” she said.

  “Once I was totally on board with her being the killer, it all snapped into place. I’m just glad she wasn’t a very good actress.”

  “Yeah, she wasn’t very convincing in the part of grieving widow.”

  “No, and the fact that she kept vacillating between blaming mysterious enemies and the kitchen staff just raised alarms.”

  “She probably thought she was covering her bases. If she’d never brought up the whole idea that he had been murdered this would almost certainly have gone down as an unfortunate accident even when the police couldn’t find any peanut products in the kitchen.”

  “Poor old Milt. He made a lot of bad choices.”

  “He married her for starters,” Elisa said.

  “And then he cheated on her. That was just asking for trouble,” Mark added. “At least that’s behind us now and we can enjoy the rest of our vacations. I didn’t like the fact that work seemed to follow me here.”

  “I didn’t mind so much. Solving mysteries has actually been a lifesaver for me,” Elisa admitted.

  “So, you do this often?” Mark asked, surprised.

  She nodded. “I have a police officer friend in Hawaii. That’s where I live most of the time. His name is Kapono.”

  Mark came to a halt. “You don’t happen to know a police captain on Oahu, first name William?”

  “Of course I do,” she said with a cheery smile.

  “Oh, you’re the one,” Mark said. When Jeremiah had been in Honolulu trying to find Cindy after she’d been kidnapped, his friend William had told him that he had his own version of Cindy, a female writer who was constantly finding dead bodies.

  “I take it you’ve heard of me?”

  “Yup.”

  He didn’t bother enlightening her further. They had made it back to the dining room and Traci lit up when she saw them.

  “Everything solved?”

  “It was the wife,” Elisa said.

  “With the peanut oil,” Mark added.

  “Here in the dining room,” Elisa concluded cheerfully.

  Traci laughed and shook her head. “You two actually manage to make murder sound whimsical.”

  “One does try,” Elisa said with a smile. “You must come by my room later, by the way. I have a copy of my new book which is coming out next month. I want to give it to you.”

  “For me?” Traci gasped in delight.

  “Yes. Consider it a thank you for letting me borrow your husband for crime solving.”

  “Traci is the only reason I participated,” Mark said.

  His stomach growled.

  “Okay, that and I was hungry.”

  Cindy had gone briefly back to her brother’s room to let her dad know everything was relatively okay after their abrupt departure. She finally returned to Lisa’s room where Jeremiah was still trying to talk some sense into her. When she walked in and closed the door behind her Lisa turned red rimmed eyes to her.

  “Please you have to help me. Kyle can never know about this,” Lisa begged.

  “This is the kind of thing you needed to come clean with Kyle about before the two of you became serious,” Jeremiah said. He stared at Cindy. “He needs to know what he’s getting himself into before he can make an informed choice.”

  “Kyle won’t understand!”

  “Maybe he will,” Cindy said, staring back at Jeremiah. “Who knows, maybe he even suspected all along that there were things about your past that were dark, that you didn’t want to share.”

  “Not Kyle. He’s too sweet and naïve. He sees the good in everything and never the bad.”

  Jeremiah gave Cindy a slight smile and she smiled back. That was one thing she and her brother didn’t have in common. She always saw the danger, the dark and scary things that could happen. It was Jeremiah who had helped her learn that just because you saw those things it didn’t mean you could bury your head in the sand and hide from life. Life was to be embraced in all its terrifying, unpredictable glory.

  “I just wanted to give people beautiful things,” Lisa said, more tears beginning to fall.

  “We understand, Lisa, but you have to understand that there are no more choices here, no moves to be made except one,” Cindy said. “If you don’t go to the police they’ll kill you.”

  “Or, more likely at this point, they’ll kill Kyle to send you a message,” Jeremiah said.r />
  Lisa began crying harder and Cindy felt a twisting knot in her stomach because she knew Jeremiah was right.

  19

  There was a knock on the door and a minute later Detective Sanders came in.

  “What is she doing here?” Lisa asked, wiping her eyes.

  “I called her while Jeremiah was dealing with the two thugs,” Cindy said.

  “I got here as fast as I could.”

  “I don’t want to talk to her,” Lisa said, sounding like a churlish child.

  “We’ve gone way past what you do and don’t want,” Cindy said, hardening her voice. “That happened the moment you involved my brother. It’s time to think of someone else’s needs, someone else’s future.”

  “She’s right. If you care anything for that man in the other room, you’ll do what’s right,” the detective said.

  “But I’m afraid,” Lisa whimpered.

  “We’re not,” Jeremiah said in a strong voice. “We’ve been in worse situations. We’ll help you find your way out of this one.”

  “I’d take them up on that offer. From what I hear about these two they’re real miracle workers,” the detective said. “And besides, if you run from this now you’ll be running the rest of your life. And trust me that isn’t a way to live.”

  Lisa took a long, shuddering breath. “What do I have to do?”

  “You have to start by telling me the truth,” the detective said.

  “And then you’ll have to tell Kyle,” Cindy added.

  Lisa nodded. “Okay.”

  Late that night Cindy and Jeremiah were sitting in a parked car behind one of the older casinos. Detective Sanders hadn’t wanted them anywhere near what was about to happen, but Lisa had refused to go through with it without them there as emotional support. In the end the detective had consented, but Jeremiah and Cindy were parked a good two hundred yards from where all the excitement was scheduled to happen.

  The detective was in another car with several police officers and Lisa was just arriving on the scene in a taxi that quickly sped away as soon as it had dropped her off. Underneath her arm she was clutching a file folder. After arranging for her to be released from the hospital earlier, the detective had instructed Lisa to pull the documents she had on the crime boss out of her safe deposit box.