Almost Dead (6 page)

CHAPTER 13

“You worry too much,” Lizzy told Jessica as she kept her hands on the wheel and her eyes on the road.

“I’m going to see if I can get a few days off and come for a short visit.”

“It’s been sort of hectic,” Lizzy told her. “I appreciate the thought, but it’s really not necessary.”

“Class is starting in a minute,” Jessica said. “I have to go, but we’re not finished with this conversation, OK?”

“Whatever you say. Go to class. We’ll talk again soon.” Lizzy hit the Off button on the console, shutting off their Bluetooth connection. Jessica Pleiss had joined Lizzy Gardner Investigations as an intern when she was attending Sac State. They had been through a lot together. Recently, Jessica had been accepted into the FBI Academy, located on a Marine Corps base in Quantico, Virginia. She was enrolled in a twenty-week training course, and, as far as Lizzy was concerned, she needed to stay in Virginia and focus on her studies.

Parking was tight around Melony Reed’s house off Fuller in Granite Bay, so Lizzy parked at the junior high school across the street and walked the half block to her place. Melony had called, told her it was an emergency. Lizzy didn’t plan to be in the office today, so she’d told Melony she would stop by this afternoon.

The only thing Lizzy knew about her was that she was newly divorced and more than a little bitter toward her ex-husband, who had run off with his secretary and taken everything with him, including her pride.

A light rain sprinkled the walkway as she made her way to the door.

Melony Reed greeted her before she could knock. The woman was tall and thin. Her cheekbones were sharp, and a thick layer of foundation was losing out to the gray circles under her eyes. She looked like a Stepford wife: a little too perfect in her sleeveless pink formfitting dress and pearl necklace.

Melony opened the door wide and said, “Thank you for coming.”

Lizzy followed her inside. The interior was traditional: calm, orderly, and predictable. Everything was impeccably tidy.

Melony bent down to pick up an invisible piece of lint from the hardwood floors and said, “Excuse the mess.”

After Lizzy turned down an offer of tea and coffee and they were seated in the living room, Lizzy said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get right down to business. It’s been a crazy week.”

Melony agreed.

“During our phone conversation, you said that you were afraid for your life.”

“That’s correct.”

“You also said that you talked to the police, but they can’t help you.”

“Correct.”

Lizzy pulled out paper and pencil and peered into a pair of cat-shaped eyes. “Why don’t we start from the beginning?”

The woman’s hands were clasped in her lap, her spine as straight as a post. “In the past three weeks,” Melony said, “four people from my high school have died.”

Lizzy waited for her to go on, but Melony seemed to think that bit of information was enough to sound the alarms. “And?”

“And I’m afraid I might be next.”

“People die all the time.” Lizzy knew that firsthand.

“You sound like the police.”

Ouch.

“One freak accident might be overlooked, but four so close together? The odds are astounding.”

“How did they die?”

“Stephen White was blown up while barbecuing a steak. People barbeque every day. Tell me that’s not a little peculiar? Debi Murray was the next to go. She was driving on the highway when her brakes went out. She hit a divider and went over an embankment. Died instantly. And then Gavin Murdock, a health freak, had a heart attack on his thirty-first birthday. Concerned, I called my friend Rachel Elliott. She didn’t have time to talk for long, but I asked her if she’d heard the news about the others, which she had. We set a time to meet for coffee the next day, but she didn’t show up. It turned out, thirty minutes after I talked to Rachel, she was dead—tripped and fell during her evening run.”

“How? Did she hit her head on a rock?”

“No. Get this—she fell on a cluster of punji sticks, the same sort of sharp upright bamboo sticks that were used in the Vietnam War.”

“What did the police say about that?”

“They’re still looking into it, of course, but they believe kids in the neighborhood were playing around. The police report indicates that the sticks weren’t sharp enough to kill anybody and therefore they believe Rachel died of a heart attack before she even hit the ground. Absurd.”

It was quiet while Lizzy made notes.

“I’m scared,” Melony said. “I don’t know what to do.”

Lizzy looked up from her notes. “Were you close to any of the other people who’ve died beside Rachel Elliott?”

“At one time . . . yes. We were all very close, which is why I’m worried. We were in the same club back in high school.” She stood and went to another room. When she returned, she handed Lizzy a thin spiral notebook. “If you open it up, you’ll see that I wrote down the names of everyone in the Ambassador Club. There were thirteen of us.”

Lizzy flipped the notebook open. Thirteen names, just as she said. A few phone numbers and addresses were scribbled in the margins. “You believe everyone on this list is in danger?”

“I do. I haven’t been able to locate three of the people on the list. They could have moved away or maybe they’re dead, too. As you can see, I’ve made notes—anything I thought might be helpful to you.”

“Have you called every name with a number?”

“No. Rachel was the only one on the list who I contacted. After she died, I went to the police. Then I called you.”

“How did you get my name?”

“Detective Chase.”

Lizzy tried not to grimace, but it wasn’t easy. Did Detective Chase think this was amusing? That man was a walking, talking asshole. He obviously didn’t take the woman seriously. And, well, Lizzy could hardly blame him. Melony was definitely skittish; although it was difficult to tell whether she was nervous or scared. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, making Lizzy think she might be feeling guilty instead of frightened. Was she doing this for attention? It happened, far too often.

“Why don’t you tell me more about your club,” Lizzy said. “I’m having a difficult time figuring out why you believe anyone would want to do you or anyone else in your group harm.”

Melony stood and then walked around a bit before white-knuckling the back of her chair. “Because we were mean,” she blurted, then slumped forward in defeat.

Lizzy lifted a brow. “Mean as in
Mean Girls
?”

“Yes, but our club included boys, too. There were eight girls and five boys.”

“Was that the club’s intention? To be nasty to other students?”

“No. The group was originally formed with the idea of making an exclusive club for VIP students.”

“VIP students?”

Melony looked heavenward as if she were exasperated, which annoyed Lizzy. Getting any real information out of the woman was like waiting for water to boil.

“Rich kids,” Melony said. “Kids who simply preferred to hang out with like-minded people.”

Lizzy set her notebook aside so she could rub the bridge of her nose. Detective Chase was going to get an earful.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“No,” Lizzy said. “I don’t think you do. If you did, you might see how very silly your group sounds to an outsider.”

“You shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Rich kids are taunted, too. We were treated like outliers, so we decided to band together and do something about it.”

“Are you saying that kids picked on you?”

“In the beginning, yes. But our group rallied together quickly. They didn’t have a chance after that.”

Lizzy pulled in her emotions. Her mother used to tell her that two wrongs didn’t make a right. But she wasn’t here to lecture the woman, so she kept that one to herself. One thing she never understood or cared for, though, were bullies. “OK, so you started this exclusive group, but it somehow became more of a mean-kid group?”

“Yes,” Melony said. “More or less.”

“And now you think somebody on the other side of the Ambassador Club’s backlash is coming after every single one of you?”

“I do.”

“Any idea who that might be?”

Melony began to pace the room. “It’s not easy to narrow the list down. I’ll be the first to admit that we got carried away. By the time our class graduated, I would chance it to say that there weren’t too many people who liked us.”

“That must have been painful.”

“Not really. We had each other. At least in the beginning.”

“And then what happened?”
Please tell me you all grew up.

“It wasn’t until our ten-year reunion two years back that I realized how deeply the scars ran. Dean Newman, one of the boys in our club, talked to me at the beginning of the night. He wanted to know how I was holding up and whether or not the guilt was getting to me. He went on to tell me that he had become an alcoholic and recently joined AA. A few weeks ago, I heard from Dean again. As part of his treatment, he’d vowed to apologize to every single person he might have caused harm.”

“And he just called you out of the blue recently to let you know?”

“Not exactly. He called me because he wanted names.”

“Of the victims of your abuse?”

“Yes,” she managed, unable to look Lizzy in the eyes.

“Did anyone in your group cause verbal
and
physical harm?”

“A few.”

“Did you?”

“A shove there, a push into the locker every once in a while. Nothing to get worked up about.”

Lizzy held in a moan.

“Mostly just the usual kind of stunts kids pull in high school.”

Lizzy cocked her head. “Could you fill me in, please? What are the usual stunts?”

“You know, taking someone’s clothes while they’re in the shower or taking the older kids’ keys and moving their car to a spot a few blocks away. Things like that.”

Lizzy was making notes. When she looked up, Melony was chewing on her bottom lip.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

“I wasn’t involved, but two of the guys and Rachel did kidnap a girl once and take her on a ride.”

Lizzy tried to remain calm. “What was the girl’s name?”

“I don’t know. I was going to ask Rachel when we met up, but like I said, she was dead by morning.”

“Do you know what happened to the girl you’re talking about?”

“I just know it was bad.”

Lovely.
“Anything else?”

“It all happened so long ago. I’m sure there were other incidents, but I’ll have to think some more.”

“You do that. As things stand right now, if someone really is causing these accidents, from what you said it could be almost anybody.”

Melony pointed at the notebook next to Lizzy. “I also included a list of students who I believe were picked on the most, including people I consider to be unstable, based on things I’ve heard.”

Melony disappeared for the second time. This time she returned with an envelope and handed it to Lizzy.

“What’s this?”

“A thousand dollars. A deposit. If my douche bag of an ex-husband wasn’t hiding all of his earnings, I would be able to give you more up front. As it is, I was planning on remodeling the kitchen, but that will have to wait. For now, I’ll have to set my budget at ten thousand dollars.”

Lizzy held up the notebook. “You’ve given me a long list of names of people who were affected by the Ambassador Club’s tormenting. This could take forever and a day to reach out to all of these people, let alone narrow the list of suspects down to ten . . . or one. In two or three months’ time, your money could be spent and you might not be any closer to the truth than you are right now.”

“Are you saying you won’t take the job?”

“No. I’m just letting you know that you might be better off spending that money on security around here. An alarm, perhaps a camera installed outside. Keep your car in the garage. Be vigilant about locking your doors and windows.”

“I could move in with the chief of police and I still wouldn’t feel safe. I need to know who’s behind these killings. I need you to say yes. If you agree to do this, I’ll feel safer knowing that every time we take someone off the list of suspects, we’ll be one step closer to finding the person responsible.”

Lizzy stood and gathered her things. She held up the envelope. “I’ll get started right away.”

“I appreciate it.”

Lizzy shook her hand. It was a done deal.

She disliked Melony Reed, and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to take on the job, but the idea that Detective Chase was responsible for this woman coming to her for help spurred Lizzy onward.

Somehow, someway, she’d make the big man eat crow. Again.

CHAPTER 14

Eighty-year-old Donna Kingsbury talked faster than an auctioneer on speed. And louder, too, although she needed to talk loudly if she wanted to be heard over the television blasting in the other room. Mrs. Kingsbury stood in the middle of the kitchen in her trailer home wearing a flowery muumuu, nylon knee-highs, and slippers. The place smelled like old dishrags and cat pee, which made sense when an orange-and-white cat appeared from the other room and began to weave around her thick ankles, its tail curling around her calves.

Hayley had been listening to her talk for ten minutes nonstop. Her cavernous mouth just kept running like a faucet that couldn’t be turned off.

She couldn’t remember it ever being so difficult to get information out of someone. Adoption searches were usually easy. Hayley could do them with her eyes closed. But getting anything useful out of this crazy lady felt never ending.

The good news was Donna Kingsbury lived in Citrus Heights. At least she hadn’t had to drive too far.

Kitally and Hayley had learned from their short visit with Dan Blatt that he’d been unable to handle all the grief stemming from the death of his first wife and had asked his mother-in-law, now ex-mother-in-law, to take care of his daughter for a few weeks. A few weeks turned into a few months and a few months turned into years. At least, that’s what Mr. Blatt had told them. The man was slime. How could you give away your daughter as if she were a cat or dog and then never look back?

“That child was the devil’s offspring,” the old woman assured her. “I always wondered if Barbara and Dan made a trade with some new-aged gypsies.”

Hayley opened her mouth to speak, but she wasn’t fast enough.

“I don’t have too many good things to say about Dan, either, you understand. That man couldn’t take care of a cactus, let alone his own wife and daughter. My Barbara deserved better. She would probably still be alive if it weren’t for that man taking advantage of her, forcing her to slave over him day and night.

“As Mrs. Kinsbury droned on, Hayley found herself wishing she’d waited for Kitally to return from her morning surveillance, another workers’ comp claimant with an alleged neck injury. Kitally had patience, and she knew how to handle people like Mrs. Kingsbury.

When the old lady finally paused for breath, Hayley jumped in. “Please, Mrs. Kingsbury, I need to know what happened to Debra Blatt.”

“I told you already. I gave her away.”

The words came out so fast, Hayley thought maybe she heard her wrong. “You gave her away?”

“Damn straight,” she said, lifting her chin, daring Hayley to judge her. “She was nothing but trouble.”

Another cat appeared. This one was solid black.

“I had four cats at the time, and she used to pull on their tails. Once she started peeing in the bed, I couldn’t take it any longer.”

“How long did Debra live here with you?”

“Two hellish years. She must have been five or six when I finally called social services and told them they needed to take the girl or I was throwing her out on the street.” The woman snorted. “That did the trick.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

A spider skittered out from under the carpet and onto the linoleum. The woman was fast, though—she jumped on the thing, putting her whole body into killing it with the bottom of her slippered foot. “What do you mean do I know where she is?” She guffawed. “It’s been close to twenty years.”

“You haven’t stayed in touch with your granddaughter?”

“No. Why should I? She wasn’t my blood. I only took her in because Dan promised to pay me, which he never did.”

Having heard enough, Hayley started for the exit.

“She must be close to twenty-five years old now,” the woman shouted after her. “Wait. Did she die and leave me some kind of inheritance? Is that why you’re here?”

Hayley had never been much for words, but it took everything she had not to turn and verbally rip the old hag to shreds.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” the woman screeched after her. “My granddaughter died and she wants to help out her ol’ Grandma.”

Hayley stepped outside without bothering to shut the door behind her. Away from the stench, she inhaled.

“You come back here right now and tell me how much she left me!”

Hayley pulled a tape recorder from her back pocket and pivoted so that she was facing the old woman, who’d skittered after her as far as the doorway. “It’s true,” Hayley told her. “Debra married well. She had millions when she died, but her will specifically states that we can only disperse monies to the people who loved her most.” Hayley smiled and held the recorder in the air for her to see. “I’m so glad we had this talk. I can’t thank you enough for being so frank with me. I’ve got everything the estate attorney needs right here.”

It was a ludicrous lie, but this was a ludicrous, awful old woman. It felt sweet to watch her mouth fall open, and sweeter still to hear no words come out of it.