Artful Dodger (Maggie Kean Mis-Adventures) (22 page)

Revenge could be sweet, no matter what they say.

Lindsay glanced at her watch and jumped up next to me. “I’ve got to go. I’ve already been out too long,” she stammered, her voice edged in panic.

“Is Tom due home soon?” I asked, instantly recognizing the hysteria in her voice.

She nodded. “I dropped the kids off at my neighbor’s house. If I hurry, I’ll have enough time to pick them up and start dinner before he gets home.”

I put my hand out to stop her. I couldn’t let her leave without saying something. “Lindsay, I know Elizabeth would want you to carry out your part in the deal you made with her. I can’t show you the art world like she could, but she left me a list of names that might help you...and me, for that matter. And I’m positive that Elizabeth would want you to take your children and move to a safe house, even if she couldn’t be there to help. She’s not here.  But I am.”

She stared at me, wide-eyed, like I’d knocked the wind out of her. “I couldn’t possibly ask you to help me. That’s why I called you and warned you to stay away.”

“You what?
You
called me?”

“I had to. I knew you’d keep coming back otherwise.”

“You’re the one who called and threatened me?”

“I didn’t know what else to do, Maggie.  You were determined to get information. If Tom knew you were coming around asking questions, there’s no telling what he would do.” After taking a few steps, she swiveled around and faced me. “I couldn’t let you end up the same way Elizabeth did.” Before her words had a chance to sink in, she turned away and started walking rapidly around the lake.

I was so startled by her confession that I stood looking out on the water, my mind a blank slate, a common occurrence these days. It felt like the blood had drained from my brain and pooled in my feet, leaving them heavy and too clunky to move.

“You really think Tom had something to do with Elizabeth’s murder?” I yelled, sprinting halfway around the lake before catching up to her. “Why didn’t you go to the police if you were suspicious?” I managed to ask between some heavy wheezing. I really had to start some type of workout program.Lindsay stopped and glared at me. “What do you think? Tom finds out I’m Cranford Boyer’s daughter, goes to visit her, and the next thing I know she’s dead.  Surely you don’t think it was accidental that Elizabeth ended up murdered right after she visited me.”

“Look, Lindsay,” I panted, “as much as it pains me to say this, your husband may not have had anything to do with her death. If you took this to trial, a defense attorney would blow your case right out of the water. The whole thing is based on circumstantial evidence.”

“You’re defending the man?” she asked incredulously.

I shook my head vehemently. “No, of course not.” I stooped over and propped my hands on my knees, willing my breathing to become even and steady. I had to admit; an aerobics class was looking more and more appealing...and necessary. “Believe me. From what you’ve said, I think your husband is as endearing as tooth decay. I thought so the first time I met him and I would like to avoid ever running into him again—”

“What do you mean ‘again’?” she asked, interrupting me.

“I mean, I’ve already met the man. He was the cop who interrogated me the day Elizabeth was discovered in my septic tank.”

“How did you know it was Tom? How did you connect him to me?”

This was no time to bring up my aborted stakeout. Lindsay would never trust me again if I admitted to spying on her. “I recognized him as I drove away the first time I came to your house.”

“But he didn’t come home after you left that day.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Maybe he just drove by to check on you and went back to the station.” She looked doubtful, but clearly, checking up on his wife without her knowledge wasn’t too far out of character for old Tom. Lindsay started toward the cars again. I tried to keep up with her long-legged strides.

“I remember looking at his name tag,” I added. “Why do you go by ‘Burns’ instead of ‘Mailer’?”

“Because my mother’s name was Burns. I didn’t want to change it when we got married... for sentimental reasons. And Tom didn’t really complain.” She brushed her hair back. “In the beginning, he could be sweet when he wanted to.”

I found that hard to believe. “But why didn’t you go to the police with your suspicions?”

“My husband’s a cop, remember? Those guys are thick as thieves down there. It’s like a fraternity. If one of them is guilty, they protect each other, no matter what. If I said anything, I’d be laughed out of the station house and Tom would be furious with me. The way he treated me this last time... I’m sure he would have killed me.”

“Lindsay,” I said, still trying to keep pace with her, “no matter what really happened to Elizabeth, whether your husband had a hand in it or not, you have to get away from him. I know that Elizabeth would be adamant about that. She belonged to a lot of organizations, but the only one that she was really passionate about was CDV.” I grabbed Lindsay’s hand and forced her to stop. “I knew Elizabeth for several years. I can say this with all honesty. Cranford Boyer was a very abusive man.” I shook my head at her unspoken question. “No, he never hit her. But he was verbally abusive and emotionally distant. Elizabeth was alone during their entire marriage. The only time they were together was for public functions that were held in order to benefit his company. So when he died, Elizabeth finally felt free.” I took both of her arms and turned her toward me. “I know that Elizabeth would feel like her death was not in vain, even vindicated, if she knew that you and your children were safe.”

“How can I do that? Tom would track me down like an animal. Don’t forget, he’s a cop. And now, with Elizabeth’s death, he’ll be even more determined to find us. And when he does.. .” she added in a whisper, “I just can’t take that chance. Not with two kids.”

“Look, don’t do anything right now, but I have a friend who can help you.” I hurried on despite the skepticism clouding her face. “He’s a detective on the case and I’ll talk to him. He’ll know what to do and how to keep you and your children safe.” There was no reason to mention that Villari was already checking out her husband, albeit discreetly. It would only frighten her, and the woman was frightened enough.

“Maggie, I don’t know who your friend is, but Tom is dangerous. Please be careful. It’s hard enough for me to live with the knowledge that I might have caused Elizabeth’s death by telling Tom everything. I can’t live with another murder on my conscience.” She held my shoulders and shook me. “Listen to me. Don’t come to my house again. Don’t call me. Stay away. Elizabeth loved you, and the only way I can repay her kindness is to keep you safe and away from here.  Go home and forget about me.”

“I can’t do that, Lindsay. Elizabeth won’t stand for it.”

She tilted her head quizzically.

“I dream of her all the time,” I responded. “It’s like she’s looking over my shoulder. You have no idea of the lectures I’d have to endure if I let you slip away.”

Lindsay loosened her grip and smiled.

“So get used to it,” I added. “I’m not going away. I promise to be careful, but I’m not going away.”

“Elizabeth was right,” she said softly, “you
are
easy to love.”

Chapter Fourteen

Lindsay drove off like a woman possessed, and considering the threat of her husband’s fists, she wasn’t too far off the mark. Dust flew up behind her tires as she squealed out of the parking lot. I was still coughing and trying to insert my key into the car door when a black sedan pulled up next to me. Frightened, I whirled around, positive that Vacuum Nose had gotten wind of our conversation and was here to land a few punches before heading home and finishing up with Lindsay. Then it dawned on me that cops don’t drive BMWs and my heart sank when I recognized Preston Boyer, behind the wheel.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded as he jumped out and strode purposefully around the hood of the car to stand in front of me.

“That’s exactly what I’d like to know, Maggie. What are
you
doing out here in the boondocks with some lady who looks like she pushes all her belongings in a shopping cart?”

Enraged by his callousness, I stuck my hands on my hips. “Look, you little rodent. I’ve never answered to you before and I’m not about to begin now. Since when did you decide to take on the role of bodyguard and start following me?”

“Interesting choice of words, Maggie,” he mused. “Now, why would you need a bodyguard?”

Apparently, the prospect of Vacuum Nose rearranging my nose had spooked me more than I’d realized.  “That’s just the point. I don’t.” Even in the sun his face had a chalky, sallow cast. When authors wrote, “All the blood drained from his face,” they could have been describing Preston. A vampire had more color.

Preston leaned his khaki-clad butt against the car, crossed his feet at the ankles, and stared, clearly not believing a word I said. “You’re such a smart-ass,” he declared insolently.

“Gee, Preston, is that the best you could come up with? I thought snappy repartee was your forte.”

He glared. Any minute now I expected him to stick out his tongue like a pouting two-year-old.

“I didn’t come here to spar with you.”

“That’s just the point, Preston. Why are you here? I live right next door to you, remember? We’re neighbors. This is a long way to drive just to swap insults.”

“I’m following you.”

“No, duh. That much is obvious. The question is why? What possible reason would you have for trailing me all the way out here?”

“Because I’m suspicious.”

“Of?”

“Of how you wiggled your way into Grandmother’s will. Suspicious of where her body was found. And I’m suspicious of the sudden relationship you have with Detective Villari.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked coolly.

“Let’s not play coy.” He sneered contemptuously. “I’ve seen his car in your driveway several times—”

“Well, that’s quite an indictment of guilt. The man’s investigating the scene of a crime. Would you rather he park down the street?”

“And when I drove by last night,” he continued, ignoring my outburst, “I saw the two of you fogging up the windshield like a couple of teenagers on prom night.”

Blood suffused my face. So much for remaining cool under fire. I was already embarrassed about Villari’s rejection and the last thing I needed was a discussion about my personal life with this little twerp.

“Jealous?” I taunted, throwing the ball back in his court. One thing I’d learned over the years: when your defense is crumbling and your back is up against the wall, shore up your offense and attack. Attack in full force.

“In your dreams, Maggie.”

“You’re never in my dreams, Preston. I like to sleep peacefully at night.”

“Look, you little—”

“Don’t call me names and don’t threaten me, Preston. The detective and I are good friends, remember? He might not take too kindly to your nasty behavior. Say what you have to say and then get lost. And don’t follow me again. If you do, I’ll sic him on you.”

“You’ve got a big mouth, Maggie, and nothing to back it up.”

I scratched my head. “Well now, that’s not exactly true, is it, Preston?” I drawled in my best “
down on the bayou
” Southern accent. “Right now there’s that little question of Grandma’s pile of money, and I do believe I have a wee bit of a say over what happens to that stack of bills.” I paused. “And I’ve got to admit, I don’t really cotton to sneaky, low-down little vermin like yourself.” “Believe it or not,” he said tersely, “I didn’t come here to battle with you.”

“So far you haven’t explained why you did come. Why don’t you clear up that little question?” I scowled. “Was it Cassie? Did she come crying because I turned down your terribly generous offer?”

His voice hardened.  “You should have taken the offer, Maggie, although that’s not the reason I’m here. Like I said, I was suspicious. But there’s more.”

“Well?” I drummed my fingers on the hood. “Dr. Cole called the house today.”

“Who is Dr. Cole?”

Preston frowned. “He’s an oncologist.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Grandmother had cancer, Maggie. Terminal cancer.”

I knew even before I arrived home that I’d find Villari pacing up and down the driveway. The man had an uncanny knack for knowing when I was off sticking my nose someplace he didn’t think it belonged. And although I would never admit it aloud, not unless someone was prying my fingernails off with a pair of rusty pliers, I was very glad to see the guy. Preston’s sudden revelation about Elizabeth’s cancer had thrown me for a loop, and as old-fashioned as it sounded, I desperately needed a steady man and a strong shoulder to lean on.

A million thoughts collided and crashed in my head like carnival bumper cars. I didn’t have the slightest clue how to slow them down or stop them completely. How could I have been so clueless? A woman walks around riddled with inoperable cancer and I don’t notice a thing? Either Elizabeth was an unbelievable actress or I was a shoo-in for the “Most Self-Absorbed Neighbor” award.

The moment he yanked open the car door, I lashed out.  “Don’t say a word, Villari.  I’m not in the mood. It’s been a lousy day and listening to you growl is the last thing I need right now.” He took one look at my face and dropped the anger like a hot potato. He lifted one of my hands off the steering wheel and threaded his fingers through mine, tugging me gently out of the car. Villari shut the door behind me and then stood and blocked my way as I started toward the house. Holding both my hands captive, he backed me up against the car.