Reading Between the Crimes

by Kate Young

  I studied her. “Why not show yourself then? Why be so secretive with the flashing lights and not stopping when I spotted you?”

  “I got scared, okay!” She wiped the sweat that had beaded up on her forehead. I believed her. She sounded and looked scared. “I tried to get your attention the second time, but you went in and got your phone to take pictures of me. And I can’t be linked to this.” She tossed her cigarette out the window. “What’s she doing?” She nodded toward Melanie, who still kept watch for more Richardsons.

  “‘She,’” Melanie began, “is keeping her eyes peeled for your freaky-ass family members. And I’m here to tell you, they’ll be sorry they messed with us.” She patted my tote at her side. “Very sorry.”

  Bea seemed to take the warning seriously as her brows rose in an appraising type of way. “They all rode in Kenneth’s van. They’re on the way to the attorney’s office. Chill.”

  I rooted through my bag and extracted the picture. “Do you know who this is?”

  Bea glanced down at the picture and nodded slowly. “Where’d you get that? Did he give it to you?” Bea’s eyes were wide. “Because if he did, you are in more danger than you know. I have to show you something. She opened the door and got out. Come inside with me.” My God. All these strangers wanted to help me. And there was no way I was going inside a house with a nineteen-year-old girl who might have had a hand in poisoning Harper.

  “Not a chance.”

  Mel folded her arms and shook her head in agreement.

  “Tell me whatever it is you have to say and what you know about this picture, or I’ll report you to the police.”

  Bea rolled her eyes again. “It’s not me you have to worry about!” Her voice rose, and people were beginning to step outside their houses and notice us. Well shit.

  After one last appraising look around, I took my bag from Mel, and waved toward the walkway. “Lead the way.”

  Mel kept up her bad cop routine as she leaned closer to Beatrice. “Then you better tell us. And if you’re setting us up, I swear, little girl, we’ll make you regret ever coming after us.”

  “Sheesh, bitchy aren’t ya?” Bea was unfazed, looking quite transfixed by the picture I gave her.

  Mel and I exchanged a worried, wide-eyed glance.

  “This is dad,” Beatrice said after she unlocked the door and we stepped inside the familiar eerie foyer. She traced the face of the tall, thin guy that I thought bore a resemblance to LJ, and nodded. “We have a large framed print of this hanging in the second-floor hallway of this house. I’ll show you.”

  “Okay.” I put my hand on the banister as she mounted the steps. Once she was out of eyesight, I pointed for Mel to do a quick recon and have a sneak peak in the adjacent rooms. The house did sound quiet, and I started to believe Beatrice had told the truth that her family was out.

  “What do you know about the picture? When and where was it taken? Do you know the people in the picture?” I shot rapid-fire questions her way as I reached the top of the stairs. Mel cleared her throat a few steps below and made the okay gesture with her index finger and thumb. I let out a little sigh of relief.

  “Here it is. All I know is that someone took the picture at some retreat my dad went to years ago.” She rubbed her fingertips softly over the image of her late father. “He and his first wife lived there for a time.”

  A huge painted portrait hung at the end of the dark paneled hallway. We all three stood in awe of the oversize painting. The enlargement made the images of the stern-looking men in old fashioned suits and hats, and the drably dressed, solemn, and sad-looking women, with their hair in long thick braids, all the more haunting. The resemblances I’d originally noticed were undeniable now.

  “So he was married before your mom?” Mel asked, sounding more like herself. Seeing the type of man Beatrice’s father had been gave us more compassion for the girl.

  “Yes,” Bea said in a faraway voice. “He was young here. Seventeen, I think.” She touched the image of a young man with his hands folded in front of him. “He wasn’t always so horrible.”

  The question I’d yet to ask took form as the lump in my throat. I swallowed. “Um, Beatrice. Do you know which of these young ladies was married to your dad?” I touched the edge of the ornate bronze frame.

  “Yes. It’s this girl, here.” Bea leaned closer to the painting, raising her hand higher.

  Melanie understood my question and squeezed my hand while I held my breath. Bea placed her fingers on a pale-haired woman who looked nothing like my mother or grandmother. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  “They weren’t married very long.”

  “Were they Amish or something?” Melanie asked.

  Bea shook her head. “Nope. They were some sort of minimalist movement. When he married my mom, he wasn’t into it any longer. Not that she would have stood for it if he’d wanted to be. She adored fashion and nice things. The picture never saw the light of day while she was alive.” She touched the edge of the picture and seemed to be working on composing herself.

  Harper had told us that in the last days of Leonard’s life, he talked about some sort of movement. She’d believed it only existed in his mind. With this painting hanging here, that just didn’t make sense.

  “What did Harper think of this painting?”

  “Harper didn’t care. She never said a word about it.” Bea sighed, looking so very young. “Harper didn’t love my dad. Not really. But my mother loved him dearly. When she passed away from cancer, my dad sort of got lost for a while. That’s when Aunt Edna came to live with us. She took care of us kids.” She turned away with a shrug. “Only after he decided to marry again did his weird shit resurface.”

  “Weird?” Mel pressed. “Weird how? Like all the family moving in and pooling funds?”

  Bea nodded. “Yeah. I think he wanted to start this backup or something. Can you imagine?” She snorted, but her eyes were watery, and she looked so vulnerable. Perhaps she’d come to me for help all those times, and I’d misconstrued the situation. Now I didn’t think she had anything to do with the attack at the hospital at all.

  “This freaky group took place about fifty years ago or so, and on a remote farm somewhere. That would never fly today.” Bea wiped her face.

  “You poor thing.” Mel patted her shoulder.

  She seemed to see Melanie for the first time. “You the owner of Smart Cookie?”

  “Sure am.”

  “No, shit? I love that place.” Beatrice smiled, and when she did, I could see how pretty she was under that mountain of makeup. It was almost as if she was trying to hide from the world. She probably had been for some time now. “Harper used to bring home boxes every week. Back when she and I were friends. Then she got weird too.”

  No wonder. If Leonard was attempting to force Harper into the life. I shuddered at the thought.

  “You didn’t poison Harper, did you?” Melanie asked straight out.

  Bea flinched and genuinely looked shocked by the allegation. “No! Why would I do something like that? I have my whole life ahead of me, and that certainly would cut it short, going to jail.” She made the universal sign for crazy. “Is that what Harper’s saying?” She groaned. “Nothing surprises me in this family.”

  “You didn’t bring her a cup of Valerian root tea?” I prodded gently. With a hefty dose of Haldol in it?

  “Yes, but I didn’t make that stinky tea. LJ did. He asked me to bring it to her.” Melanie and I exchanged a glance. Either this girl was a brilliant liar, or we’d completely misjudged her.

  “And you all brought that stinky tea over.” Bea shook her head.

  I softened my tone. “Well, the tea itself isn’t a problem, but it does react badly with other medications.”

  “Oh. I guess Harper knew that.”

  I cocked my head to one side. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she must have requested it. Why else would LJ make a disgusting cup of tea like that? He does everythi
ng she says. Loves her.” She’d made a stupid face when she’d said “loves.”

  “LJ went on and on about how bad it stunk.” I cast a glance over to Mel as Bea continued. “We laughed, wondering why anyone would drink that stuff.” Bea shook her head and seemed to be considering. “Can’t believe she tried to kill herself and then blamed me. LJ should be standing up for his only sister.”

  “Is there anyone in the house that’s taking the medication Haldol?”

  “I don’t know. Probably. The whole house is on blood pressure meds and a lot of other shit.” She waved her hands around. “This house a geriatric doctor’s paradise. I can’t wait to get out.”

  She seemed confused as to the purpose of the medication. “Haldol is an antipsychotic medication,” I said gently.

  Bea burst out laughing. “Well, the whole family needs that drug.” She shook her head as she lit up another cigarette. Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her back pocket. Her face paled. “They’re on their way back. I set a notification for Edna’s phone to ping me when they left the address.” The cadence of her voice had increased. “Okay. I’m not giving you what I’m about to give you. And if you say I did, I’ll deny it.” She stared me straight in the face before going across the hall to the room locked with a padlock from the outside.

  Mel and I both gaped. Who did they have in that room? My hand went to my bag and moved slowly inside, to grip holster of my gun. I undid the snap. Bea pulled a necklace with a key on it out from inside her shirt, unlocked the door, and went inside.

  Melanie glanced around again. She, like me, seemed to be concerned about a trap. I didn’t discount the idea that the Richardson family could have possibly sent the most innocent of the group to entrap me.

  Bea came out of the room, holding a laptop bag. “It’s theft just so that you know what we’re dealing with here. Once he knows you have it, watch out.”

  “He?” I asked slowly.

  “Charles.” She hefted the darker version of the same laptop bag Charles had been carrying at the courthouse. “He gave me a key.”

  By the way she tossed her hair, I feared he didn’t give her a key just for her to help guard his things. I hadn’t expected that. “Charles is staying with your family too?”

  She nodded. “He and my dad were close. They were working on something together. Kenneth thinks he participated, but that’s total bull. Kenneth is a total deadbeat.”

  I shivered and stared at the briefcase. “What’s in it?”

  “You’ll see.” She started rushing us toward the stairs. “Charles is driving his car, and he could be way ahead of the others.” She passed by me and hurried down the stairs. Mel and I had to rush to keep up with her.

  “I won’t get caught doing this. And when Charles finds out it’s missing—and I plan to be far away when that happens—watch out.” Charles had gone with the family to the lawyer’s office.

  “Why didn’t you go with the others? Didn’t you want to hear you dad’s will being read?” Melanie asked when we went out onto the front porch with Bea.

  “He didn’t leave me anything. He left it all to his favorite. But it doesn’t matter. My mom left a trust for me. I get it on my birthday, at the end of the month.” She held out the bag to me, her eyes deadly serious. “I swear I’m not trapping you. I swear I want to help you. You don’t deserve what’s coming for you.”

  Was this girl a mastermind of trickery? I gave myself an inward shake. Bea seemed to be honest, and God help me, I wanted to know what was on the laptop.

  “Okay,” I said, and took the bag while trying to wrap my head around everything. “Why are you doing any of this? Why share anything with us?”

  Bea patted her face where a few tears had left tracks. “Because as foolhardy as my father was, he’s the only father I had. And there were times he was a good dad. Whoever killed him should go away. Forever. Then and only then can I truly be free. Free from this whole family. Once this is done, I’m gone. I’m helping you guys, and in turn you can help me. Whoever is guilty should pay. Agreed?”

  Whatever Bea planned to hand over must be a smoking gun in the evidence department. I could understand how she needed justice for her dad—and her need to break free from her twisted family. But as she readily admitted, she’d stolen the evidence, and stolen it from Charles Hammond, a man who was a wild card in the whole ordeal. And I no longer worked for the defense and didn’t have the firm’s security to back me. I suppose I could just say whatever it was had been anonymously delivered to me. Yes. This opportunity felt too important to pass over. And the truth belonged to me also.

  “Agreed,” I said.

  She nodded and swallowed. “I’m going to tell you this, but I’ll deny it if you have me questioned by the police. I overheard LJ on the phone with someone the morning the police took Harper to the hospital. He said, ‘She’ll be there. Remember, she’s tall, reddish hair, and a pretty face.’ He’s awful. He’s my brother, but he lacks empathy or whatever you call it.” She shook her head.

  I felt all the blood drain from my face. LJ sent the attacker.

  Bea frowned and gave me an awkward pat on the arm. “This is where we part ways for good. Good luck.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Detective Battle was waiting for me when Mel and I got home. The dark clouds that rolled in overhead were an ominous sign of the weather to come. There were a lot of ominous signs happening these days, and I prayed they weren’t a foreshadowing of what was to come. The detective propped his large frame against the door and crossed his arms. He didn’t appear to be in any hurry to leave, and this made us both nervous.

  “God. Do you think Bea set us up? Maybe she called the police the second we got out of the car.” She glanced in the back seat, where Charles’s computer bag sat.

  My stomach swam with nerves, but I refused to show my emotions. “No.” I swallowed. “No. Why would she do that?” Lord, please don’t let her have set us up. “You heard her. She seemed sincere at wanting the person responsible to pay.” I said this out loud to convince myself as much as Melanie. I usually felt more confident in my discernment. Now, with everything going on with my mother and finding out about LJ’s involvement in my own attack, plus the confirmation that he’d been in close proximity when someone murdered his father, my head was all over the place.

  “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. Bea even told us about her rotten brother and what he did to you. Do you want me to hang around a bit? Be backup?” She glanced at her watch. I could tell she was already running late for work.

  “No. I’ve got it. We’ll sync up after your shift.”

  Mel smiled. “We have day one of pub crawl tonight. You still want to go? Probably not, right?”

  I’d completely forgotten. The town’s kick-off night started this evening and would continue the rest of this week, and the finale would be an all-day event on Saturday.

  “I don’t think so.” I could see the detective staring in our direction out of my peripheral vision.

  “I understand. I don’t feel much like it either. I’ll come by after work.” We hugged, parted, and I watched Mel trudge to her car before I slung the computer bag over my shoulder, along with my purse. If this was some kind of sting, I didn’t want Mel anywhere near it.

  I began climbing up to my stoop as casually as I could manage—just a gal going inside with her bags. Everything is fine.

  “Interesting morning,” the detective said by way of a greeting, and he pushed off the door.

  “Can I help you?” I hit the key fob. The car beeped a couple of times in succession. I turned back to the detective.

  “I hope so.” He didn’t move from my door as I closed the distance between us. “Geraldo Morales woke up.”

  “That’s good.” I waited for him to elaborate. “I was beginning to think that wouldn’t ever happen. Where’s Quinn? I thought he was the liaison?”

  “He’s busy. And is it?”

  “Is what?” I raised my brows.
r />   “Good that he woke up.”

  I squinted at him. “Listen, Detective, I’ve had a long and disturbing morning.” No point denying what happened today at the courthouse, not to mention at the Richardson house. I scratched my head. “And I still have a lot of work ahead of me before I can call it quits for the day. If we could speed this little tap dancing act along, I’d be appreciative.”

  “Your mother didn’t check in with you before her performance in the courtroom?” He had a little smirk going on, and his audacity gave me precisely the grit I needed at this moment.

  I pursed my lips and raised my brows as high as I possibly could. I’d seen that look from my mother an infinite number of times when I behaved childishly.

  “Okay, okay. I get it. It’s too soon to joke just yet.” His smirk disappeared. “Morales gave us the name of the person who paid him to attack you.” He studied me for several beats, and my patience waned.

  I shifted my bag higher on my shoulder as the weight of the bag began to dig into my clavicle. “LJ Richardson?”

  He cocked his head to one side. “No.”

  Huh? “Okay, well, whoever it is, arrest them. Or did you come here to tell me that you’ve already arrested them?”

  “Well, that’s where it gets interesting.” Again he watched me.

  “Okay. And?” I huffed. My God, all these games!

  “He said you paid him. He claims you told him exactly where’d you’d be and at what time.”

  I blinked a couple of times. “Come again?”

  “You hired Morales to attack you.”

  I let out a harsh laugh. “For the love of God.” I glanced briefly heavenward. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You came over here to tell me that the man who attacked me in broad daylight, in front of countless witnesses, blames me? Wow. So, you’re wasting both of our time.”

  He rolled his shoulders back and stared down his nose at me. “No, ma’am. He swears by it. Some guy came into the bar representing you. And later he received a call from the man with the exact location.”