Coached to Death

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Coached to Death Page 28

by Victoria Laurie


  “He didn’t know you’d sought sanctuary in the church?” Gilley asked.

  “No,” Carmen said. “Like I told you, I kept to the basement and lived on the leftovers from the Sunday school pizza party. No one knew I was down there except my sister. And if she hadn’t texted me right then that she was outside waiting for me, I think the Angel would’ve found me and murdered me too.”

  “What happened with Sasha?” I asked carefully.

  Carmen shook her head, then dropped her chin. Her shoulders shook for a moment, and she put her fingers to her lips. I felt bad for asking about something so painful, but I also knew we needed to have as much detail about the Angel’s methods as possible.

  “She hid me at her place. I was upstairs getting dressed, and Sasha called up that she was going out for some groceries. I happened to glance out the window as Sasha got into her car, and that’s when the Angel of Death appeared out of nowhere, yanked the car door open as my sister was putting on her seat belt and . . . and . . .”

  Gilley reached over and put a hand on Carmen’s shoulder while she shook her head and dissolved into a puddle of tears. She didn’t need to tell us what happened next. We already knew.

  Still, Carmen gathered herself and said softly, “She killed her. She killed my beautiful Sasha, who did nothing. She did nothing. And now the police are after me! How could they think I had anything to do with that?”

  Carmen lifted her chin and looked imploringly at me and Gilley.

  I said, “Because they have nothing but some flimsy witness who spotted you running from your sister’s house. If you’ll let us call the police here, Carmen, I’m sure we can explain—”

  “No!” Carmen yelled. “No police!”

  I pressed my lips together. I could understand her fear, but she was being a bit unreasonable. Still, I had promised to respect her wishes. “Fine. We won’t call them. Not yet. But eventually, we’ll need to let them know that you witnessed this Angel of Death breaking the punch bowl over Heather’s head.”

  “But I didn’t witness that,” she said. “I only came to the doorway after I heard the crash.”

  “It’s basically the same thing,” I said. “And we need them to find the bullet that was fired at you. I’m quite certain they don’t even know it’s there.”

  “It’s there,” she said. “I felt it go by me and saw the puff of dust when it went into the bookcase.”

  “See? If they dig that bullet out and match it to the one that killed your sister, then they’ll have something to go on, Carmen. They’ll know your story is true,” Gilley said.

  But Carmen still looked uneasy. She rubbed her temples and said, “I don’t know. I still think it’s a bad idea for me to talk to them. What if they think I fired the bullet into the bookcase to throw them off? If they match it to the gun that killed my sister, they could lock me up for her murder too.”

  “Okay,” I said. “For now, let’s just worry about what to do with you in the next few days.”

  “Can’t I stay here?” she asked.

  “You certainly could, but it’d get a little tricky. The Angel of Death has been seen in this area by several people. She might be too close for comfort right now. Plus, one of the detectives on Heather’s case often stops by. If he spotted you . . . well, it could be bad.”

  “That’s no good,” Carmen said. “Maybe I should go back to Miss Heather’s.”

  “And maybe there’s another solution,” I told her. “Have you ever spent time in Islip?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Would you like to?”

  “As long as it’s safe from the Angel of Death, I’d be willing to go there.”

  “Excellent. I have a plan. Tonight you stay here, and Gilley and I will also sleep here to watch over you. The alarm is on, and my electronic butler monitors my every movement; he’ll know to alert the police should anyone attempt to get inside. I think we’ll be okay.

  “As for tomorrow, we’ll move you to a safe location, and then we’ll talk to that detective about digging out the bullet and about the quinine. It’s a shame we couldn’t find any evidence in Heather’s house tying someone to the poisoning.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful with that,” Carmen said. “I didn’t know Miss Heather was poisoned. Who would’ve thought that some simple tonic water would kill her?”

  I blinked and looked at Gilley. “What?” he asked.

  “Who indeed,” I said to him. “Who would’ve known about Heather’s allergy?”

  “Any of her friends might’ve known,” he said.

  I pointed to Carmen. “But Carmen didn’t even know. Carmen, how long had you worked for Heather?”

  “Seventeen years,” she said. “I worked for her and her husband, and then just her when he passed away. When she was having money troubles, she let everyone else go but me. She said I was her most loyal and trusted employee.”

  “Then why did she set up a camera to spy on you six months ago?” Gilley asked.

  Carmen appeared taken aback. “How do you know about that?”

  “I’m a good investigator,” he said and didn’t explain further.

  Carmen frowned, but she seemed to accept his answer. “She wasn’t spying on me. She was going to use the camera to spy on her ex-boyfriend. She thought he was seeing someone . . .” Carmen paused to look meaningfully at me.

  “Nigel and I were never a thing,” I said. “Never.”

  Carmen nodded. “Yeah, I believe you. Anyway, the camera was hidden in a little clock. She tested it out in the kitchen for a few days last spring, and then she sent it to Nigel, but after he unwrapped it, he sent it back telling her it wasn’t his taste, so she never got any proof one way or the other. She was going to throw the clock away, but I told her I liked it, so she let me put it on a shelf in the kitchen and the camera probably just kept running all this time.”

  “Do you know why she had a security camera over the door at the far end of the house?” I asked.

  Carmen cocked her head. “What camera?”

  “Heather had a camera pointed at the door that led to her library.”

  “She did?” Carmen said. “That’s the first I’ve heard of it. But it was probably because she used to go there every night to work, and it was a little creepy at that end of the house after dark. It was right next to the woods and everything, so maybe it was to make her feel safe.”

  “That makes sense, actually,” Gilley said, adding a yawn.

  I looked at my watch; it was nearly eleven. “All right, everyone,” I said. “Let’s get to bed. We’ll all sleep here tonight, and I’ll lay out our plan in the morning, okay?”

  Gilley and Carmen nodded, and we got up as one and began to troop toward the bedrooms. “Where are you bunking?” Gilley asked me.

  “With you,” I said.

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Is that a problem?”

  He smiled sideways. “No. As long as you don’t get all handsy.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Jazz hands are the only hands I’d ever get with you, sweetie.”

  “See?” he said, looping his arm through mine. “This is why we’re friends. You just get me.”

  Chapter 15

  The next morning, I was up before everyone else, making coffee and pacing the kitchen floor. The thing that was truly troubling me was the fact that, with her story of what happened the night Heather was murdered, Carmen had effectively given the Angel of Death—our assassin—an alibi.

  “So who did kill Heather?” I muttered.

  “What’s that?” Gilley asked from the doorway.

  I jumped at the sound of his voice. “Nothing. I was just muttering to myself.”

  Gilley rubbed his eyes and moved directly to the coffee carafe. “Anything good in all that muttering?”

  I sighed. “No. Unfortunately. I’m still just really stumped by this mystery about who actually did kill Heather.”

  “It would’ve had to have been someone who specifically
knew she could die by ingesting quinine,” Gil said.

  “Exactly. And if Carmen had worked for Heather for seventeen years and she didn’t know the extent of Heather’s allergy—then who did?”

  “Maybe someone from that slumber party that Sunny told us about,” Gil said.

  I scowled. “Come on,” I said. “From a million years ago? Who’d remember that? And who’d know to connect quinine to what happened that night? Even Sunny didn’t know what kind of pill Heather had ingested.”

  “Just a thought,” Gilley said.

  “We’ll need to do some digging,” I said.

  “When are you going to call Erma?” Gil asked, changing the subject.

  “I sent her an e-mail last night while you were in the bathroom.”

  “Did you lay out all the specifics?”

  “No. I simply suggested that we had a friend who was in a bit of a jam and needed a place to stay, and did she have any room at her place, now that her roommate had left, to accommodate this friend of ours.”

  Gilley cocked an eyebrow at me. “Sugar, you’re going to have to warn her about what she could be getting herself into. Remember, Carmen’s sister was murdered for harboring her.”

  “Yes, I know, Gilley. I’m going to have a follow-up conversation with her at the office, and I’m going to tell her that Carmen is in the kind of trouble that could bring danger. I’ll let her decide if she wants to get involved or not.”

  Gilley shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t agree. I think you should come totally clean with Erma. You can’t ask her to harbor a fugitive and not tell her that’s what she’ll be doing.”

  “Carmen didn’t kill anyone,” I said testily. “Especially not her sister.”

  “Technically, that is probably correct, but also technically, at this moment, Carmen is being sought in connection to her sister’s murder—and Heather’s, for that matter—and as such she is also technically a fugitive from the law.”

  I growled in frustration. I hated that Gilley was right. “Fine. I’ll divulge all to Erma. And we’ll both have to hope that she doesn’t run screaming to the police and all three of us end up in jail.”

  “Erma’s not gonna snitch,” Gilley said, but then I noticed a hint of indecision in his expression. “I’ll bring doughnuts.”

  I pointed at him. “Good plan.”

  Gilley and I drove separately to the office. We left the driveway at the same time, me driving behind him all the way to town. I checked my rearview every few seconds to make sure we weren’t being followed, and as far as I could tell, we weren’t.

  Still, I didn’t rest easy until Gilley had turned into the parking lot behind my office building, and I continued on a bit to park at the curb. Keeping a watchful eye on my rearview mirror for exactly two minutes to see if any other cars entered the parking lot behind Gilley, I then texted him that I was on the move and to give me thirty seconds.

  Hurrying out of my car, I dashed to the front door, unlocked it, entered the building, turned to relock the door, then ran to my office door to unlock that and step inside to punch in the alarm code. Once that was disarmed, I rushed to the back and threw open the rear exit to allow Gilley to run in with Carmen, who had a coat over her head.

  Not that that was suspicious.

  “Why’d you throw a coat over her head?” I snapped, pulling it off poor Carmen.

  “I didn’t!” Gilley snapped back. “It was her idea.”

  “I didn’t want anyone to see me,” she said, putting a hand to her hair to smooth it out.

  I sighed and made an effort to soften my voice. “I think we’re in the clear. Now, come with me.”

  “Where’re we going?” she asked.

  “Upstairs to an empty office, where I can hide you while I have a talk with a friend of mine who might be willing to take you to her place.”

  “Okay,” Carmen said.

  We headed up the stairs to Maks’s office, and I fumbled with my keys until I found the right one to unlock the door. Leading Carmen inside, I was a bit surprised to find it fully furnished—and elegantly so.

  “This is nice,” Carmen said.

  “It is, isn’t it?” I agreed. “Okay, Carmen, you stay here for an hour or so. The tenant I have in this office is out of town for the week, but I still think it would be unwise to make any noise or call attention to yourself in any way while you’re here. Also, please don’t move anything, okay? I don’t want my tenant to become suspicious that I had anyone in here without his knowledge.”

  Carmen moved to a small love seat and sat down obediently. “I won’t move from this spot.”

  “Good,” I said, then waved goodbye to her and headed back downstairs.

  I waited by the front door, checking my watch every half minute or so, and finally I spotted my Audi making the turn into the parking lot. “Perfect,” I said.

  Rushing back to my office, I ducked past Gilley, busy at his computer, and to the back door again to open it for Erma.

  She came in wearing a big smile and an ill-fitting knit dress. “Good morning, Erma,” I said, holding the door while she squeezed past me.

  “Hey, Ms. Cooper!” she sang. “I was so excited to get your e-mail and text this morning!”

  I locked the rear door and motioned for Erma to follow me. “I so appreciate you coming so early.” Once we took our seats, and Gilley appeared with coffee and a plate full of doughnuts, I began to explain Carmen’s situation.

  Erma stared at me openmouthed and bug-eyed for the entire time I spoke. Well, save for those three instances where she paused to gobble down a doughnut, but otherwise she paid rapt attention. At the end of my story, she said, “Whoa. That’s intense.”

  “It is,” I agreed.

  “So her sister really got murdered?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “Which is why asking you to participate in all this may be asking far too much, but I really don’t know what else to do with Carmen. I can’t hide her at my house, and she’s too afraid to allow me to contact the police on her behalf.”

  “I can take her in,” Erma said.

  “Oh, Erma, that would be so wonderful, but are you sure?”

  “Of course! I mean, the poor lady just lost her sister! That’s gotta be rough.”

  “It would be,” I said, thinking with a pang back to the two times I’d almost lost my own sister.

  “Well then, heck yeah, I’m in.”

  “But you realize you would be harboring a fugitive,” Gilley said, handing Erma the remaining plated doughnut.

  She took it with a giant, grateful smile. “Yeah, that doesn’t scare me.”

  “And,” I said delicately, “you must also take into account that her sister was murdered by the same woman who’s after her. We can’t guarantee that you’ll be totally safe with her in your company.”

  Erma shrugged. “I live in a trailer park in Islip. I’m used to watching my back.”

  I looked at Gilley, suddenly unsure. I think it was Erma’s willingness to toss aside the danger. It left me feeling that she was perhaps too naïve to be involved.

  He shrugged and offered a look that said he understood, but it was her choice.

  “Erma,” I said. “Are you absolutely positive that you’re up for this?”

  She eyed me quizzically. “Ms. Cooper, I know I may look kinda slow on the uptake, but I can take care of myself. Well, usually. Most of the time. What I mean is, I hear what you’re saying, and I understand this is a dangerous assignment, but I still want to help this lady if I can. Nobody’s gonna follow me to some run-down trailer park in Islip. I can get her into my place unnoticed, I promise, and she can hide out there as long as she needs.”

  I let out a breath of relief. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

  Ten minutes later, our three cars left the building at the exact same time, all in a row, all following each other very closely until we were at the intersection just before the on-ramp to the highway, and then, as we’d pre-planned, we sp
lit into three different routes. Erma carried on straight, I turned left, and Gilley turned right.

  “How’s everyone doing?” I asked. I had Gilley and Erma connected on a conference call.

  “I’m good,” Gilley said. “No one on my six.”

  “Your six?” Erma asked.

  “My tail.”

  “Ah. Got it. No one on my six either, Ms. Cooper.”

  “Perfect,” I said, eyeing my rearview. “Oh, crap,” I whispered as I noticed a car behind me.

  “What is it?” Gilley said quickly.

  I glanced forward again and gripped the steering wheel. “Listen to me carefully, you two. I need for you to call each other. Gilley, you do the dialing. Erma, you continue on to Islip with Carmen. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

  “Cat!” Gilley called out. “What’s happening? Should I turn around?”

  “No!” I told him. “No, Gilley, I’m fine. I just have a pesky detective riding my own six. And I think he’s about to pull me over. You two go on, now, okay?”

  With that I hung up, and no sooner had I done that than Shepherd flipped on the police lights in his unmarked vehicle. “Perfect,” I muttered. “Juuuust perfect.”

  Flicking my turn signal to show him how cooperative I’d be, I pulled into the parking lot of a bank and stopped. I didn’t get out or roll down my window, settling for simply sitting in my seat and seething.

  He rapped on my window, and I waited a beat before I lowered it. “Good morning, Detective,” I said flatly. “What’s the charge today? Driving under the influence of too much coffee?”

  “Cute,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

  “So talk.”

  “Have you had breakfast?” he asked. “Other than coffee?”

  His question took me by surprise. “Uh . . . no, actually.”

  “Good. Follow me. I know a great place.”

  With that, he turned on his heel and walked back to his car.

  I frowned as he pulled out in front of me and led the way to the restaurant. This wasn’t what I needed this morning. I was anxious about Erma and Carmen. I had planned to make sure that Carmen was safely holed up at Erma’s before dropping in on Sunny again to ask her if she knew of anyone who might’ve known about Heather’s allergy to quinine.

 

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