Carbs & Cadavers (21 page)

“Just sit tight,” Lucy said to the caller. “I’m going to tell James what you said. Call you right back.”

Grasping the phone to her chest, Lucy blurted out,“Bennett remembers where he delivered the package. He had switched routes with a friend over a month ago and that’s why he couldn’t think of the address. See, he doesn’t usually go out there.”

“You mean, to Shilling’s Stables?” James asked complacently.

Lucy’s mouth fell open. “How did you
know?
”

“I’m not certain or anything, but Allison came to the library this afternoon to pick up some wedding books and I heard her car as she was leaving. It’s a diesel and the motor makes a unique noise. If I could replay the noise for Whitney, we could see if that’s the sound she heard before she was hit.”

Lucy jumped out of her seat. “If we put those two clues together, there can be no doubt that Allison’s our killer!”

“But what’s her motive?” James wondered.

Lucy gave him an annoyed flick of her wrist. “I’m sure Brinkley had something on Allison, too. It must be something pretty serious because not only did she murder him, but she also wants to silence the other two people who know her secret. Come on!” Lucy headed toward the door. “We’d better get out there!”

“Hold on!” James grabbed her arm. “We can’t just bust in the house and demand to see Amelia! We’ve got to have a plan!”

Lucy paused. “But we can’t waste any time. James, Amelia’s life is in danger!”

“So we’ll call the sheriff.” James sat back down and gestured to the chair opposite him. “Sit down, Lucy. Huckabee now knows about the mask, so we’ll simply tell him where it was delivered. If you do that, you’ll save him a lot of legwork and I’m sure he’ll be grateful to you for that.”

Sighing with resignation, Lucy petulantly grabbed the phone off the kitchen table and dialed her boss’s direct line. “Sheriff? This is Lucy. Listen, that poodle mask Whitney saw was delivered to Shilling’s Stables. My friend is a mail carrier. Um . . . I also think Allison Shilling may be responsible for Brinkley’s death. Please call me back to discuss this. Thank you.” Lucy left her home and cell numbers. “Voice mail. He and Keith must still be tied up with Whitney and Darryl.”

“At least that keeps Whitney safe.” James eyed Lucy as she began dialing again. “Now who are you calling?”

“I’m going to leave a message with the second shift assistant. She can tell Sheriff Huckabee that I left him an urgent message.”

As Lucy was dictating her message to the assistant, she hurriedly finished up by saying, “I gotta go, Sheila. I’ve got another call coming in . . . Lindy? Hold on, hold on! I’ll explain everything.” Lucy summarized the information she had received from both James and Bennett. Lindy babbled about something James couldn’t quite hear and then rang off.

“Now what?” he asked, feeling very much on edge.

“Lindy’s got a friend who works at the Portsmouth School for Girls. She’s going to call her and find out exactly why Allison was kicked out before she could graduate. That might help us figure out her motive. Obviously, if she’s going to marry a senator’s son, her background had better seem squeaky clean.”

James frowned. “That makes sense, especially since Chase has aspirations to get involved in politics in the future. But Allison doesn’t even act like she wants to marry him, so why would she commit all of these crimes to protect that relationship?”

Lucy shrugged. “She’s twenty years old. Who knows what’s motivating her? Maybe she’s marrying him for the money. Senator Radford comes from a whole family of real estate tycoons. I don’t think Allison has much interest in working, do you?”

James thought back to the sight of Allison’s nails. “That certainly seems plausible. So are we waiting for Lindy to call us back?”

“You can if you want.” Lucy gave him an impatient look. “But
I’m
driving out to Shilling’s Stables. Lindy’s calling me back on my cell phone and I’ve done my best to get through to the sheriff.” She narrowed her blue eyes at James. “I’m not going to sit on my ass while Amelia might be in danger.” And with that, she swiped her keys off the cluttered counter and headed for the door.

“I’m coming with you!” James shouted, hating how his voice betrayed a hint of desperation. Lucy’s demeanor had become so downright hostile since Amelia’s disappearance. As they approached Lucy’s car, James spied the disheveled condition of the passenger seat. It was once again littered with papers and other trash.

“I’ll drive,” he offered quickly. “That way you can answer the phone.”

“Fine.” Lucy huffily grabbed her purse from her front seat and climbed into the Bronco.

“You don’t have to get all miffed at me!” James stated as he started the engine, feeling quite miffed himself.

Lucy was silent as they backed down her driveway and headed west. “I’m sorry. I’m just going crazy, thinking that this is all my fault.”

“I feel guilty, too,” James admitted. “When we get there, let’s just park the truck nearby and try to check out the grounds. Maybe we can find Amelia without a confrontation.”

Lucy seemed unimpressed by his idea. “Maybe.” The phone in her hand began to chirp. “Lindy? You found out? Tell me, quick!”

James drove through the shadowy forest leading toward the Shilling’s large horse farm. It was almost six o’clock and night would fall before too long. As he listened to Lindy’s incomprehensible voice through Lucy’s cell phone, he felt chilled by the sight of the leafless trees, the dense, brown tufts of grass along the roadside, and the lack of other cars passing by. Drawing his coat in tighter and wishing he had zipped it before getting in the car, James coaxed the Bronco’s heater to a higher setting and turned left at the next intersection, heading toward the ridge of mountains. They looked blue-black and menacing in the deepening twilight.

Finally, Lucy assured Lindy that she and James would be careful and then summarized her conversation for James’s sake.

“It appears that Allison has a thing for stealing drugs,” Lucy announced. “During her junior year, her roommate at the Portsmouth School was taking codeine after having knee surgery. Apparently, Allison tried a few pills and liked the affects of the painkiller. The roommate was continuously missing one jar of pills after another until she caught Allison taking them from her book bag. Allison had already been given a warning for possession of marijuana, which she claimed wasn’t hers but was forced to go to counseling over, but the incident with the codeine was the last straw. She got kicked out and came back here for her senior year.”

“But Allison stole Coumadin from the Livingstones’ house, not codeine,” James pointed out.

“It just proves that this little lady knows her drugs. She deliberately took the Coumadin with the intention of killing Brinkley.” Lucy pointed toward a dirt road bearing off to the right. “Pull in here. We’ll walk in through the woods and for now, we’ll stick to just looking around for Amelia, but I’m not leaving here until we know what’s happened to that girl.”

James glanced forlornly into the thicket of barren pine trees. Their trunks seemed ragged and bristly and the forest floor was blanketed with sharp pinecones and protruding sticks. Only a small line of light remained above the horizon as James followed Lucy into the woods. He wished he shared her courage, but he was filled with fright over sneaking into the killer’s territory, the daylight dying in front of him as he scrambled down the slope toward an open pasture where several horses stood like silent sentinels at the gate.

“Hurry up, James,” Lucy hissed. “God, I hate horses. You never know how they’re going to act.”

“The horses are the least of our worries.” James passed by her, leading the way to the farthest corner of the fenced field, his feet hastened by the sinking sun and the fear that grabbed a hold of his insides and wouldn’t let go. “Night is falling,” he said, surging forward. “And it’s coming fast.”

James and Lucy
tried to sneak through the brown-tipped field by walking carefully along the perimeter of the fence, but since neither one of them was light on their feet, they more or less plodded forward until they reached a cluster of horses. The frisky animals were waiting by the gate closest to a large stable. They tossed their heads and snapped their long tails in excitement as James and Lucy drew nearer.

“They’re acting like it’s dinnertime,” James whispered.

Lucy eyed the restless horses nervously. “If it is, we’re gonna get caught by whoever feeds them. Let’s try to hide out inside that stable somewhere.”

James saw no other choice. It was growing impossible to see what lay farther ahead beyond the stable. During their descent through the trees the sprawling manor house made out of stucco had been visible. James had noticed lights in the backyard, illuminating a kidney-shaped swimming pool bordering a grass tennis court. The luminosity in the yard had grown brighter with the incoming darkness, but now the only light near the fields was an inviting rectangle escaping from the back door to the stable, which stood ajar.

Keeping her back against the wall, Lucy pivoted her shoulder and took a quick look inside while James tried to get both his breathing and his heart rate under control. He noticed that Lucy’s large breasts were bobbing up and down like buoys in a rough sea and he averted his eyes from her heaving chest just in time as she swung around to face him.

“I can hear someone in there,” she said into his ear. “Sounds like it’s a woman talking to one of the horses.”

The ungainly pair trod over strewn bits of hay as they made their way toward the gentle cooing of a woman from within one of the stalls. The repetitive
whish
of what sounded like a brush running over the horse’s coat and several soft whickers were the only other noises in the stable aside from the woman’s voice.

James motioned for Lucy to stop as he quickly peered into the stall. Allison Shilling was busy grooming a roan-colored horse. Her back was to the door and she was humming softly to herself. Lucy moved next to James, forming a blockade of folded arms, flabby stomachs, and wide hips. At the last second, James reached out and grabbed a pitchfork hanging from a rusted hook nearby.

“Hello, Allison,” Lucy said quietly.

Allison jumped in surprise, startling the horse she was brushing. Its ears twitched nervously as it pawed at the stall door in front of its feet. As Allison tried to calm the beast, the horse neighed loudly and showed the whites of its eyes as it struck out again and again with its powerful hoof against the barn door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Allison yelled, grabbing the horse by its bridle and forcing its head down. “Easy, girl. Easy now,” she soothed the horse while hastily stroking its glossy coat.

“I think that’s a better question to put to you.” Lucy took a step backward, away from the horse’s dangerous hooves. “We know you were the one who stole the Coumadin out of Whitney’s house the night you and Amelia stayed over.”

Allison stopped her caress mid-stroke. Then, ignoring Lucy’s comment, she continued brushing the mare while James watched her carefully to make sure that she wasn’t about to grab a shotgun from within the pile of hay in the corner of the stall.

“The secret Brinkley knew about you must have been a pretty good one, huh?” Lucy tried again.

Allison shrugged. “Brinkley Myers was a loser. I’m not too upset that he’s dead and I don’t think anybody else is, either.”

“Maybe not, but nearly killing your friend Whitney upset
a lot
of people,” Lucy retorted sharply.

Allison put down the brush and, resting a casual arm on the horse’s flank, asked, “Is that why you’re here? You’re
upset
about Whitney?” The girl taunted in return. Then she frowned, looking genuinely confused. “What’s the big deal? She’s fine now, anyway.”

Lucy offered a contemptuous laugh. “Yeah, sure, until
you
can take a second shot at her. Maybe you should drive one of the stable’s trucks next time you do it. She might not make it then.”

Allison’s lip curled and she snarled. “You’re crazy. I didn’t have anything to do with Whitney’s accident. Why don’t you go bother somebody else. There’s a Golden Corral about fifteen miles from here. You and the professor could really make a dent in their All-You-Can-Eat buffet.”

James watched as Lucy’s fists curled into tight angry balls. “I work for the Sheriff’s Department, Allison, and they’re on their way here to discuss the disappearance of Amelia Flowers with you, along with a few other interesting subjects, like murder and attempted murder.”

“Amelia’s ‘disappearance’?” Allison asked, looking less confident than she had a moment before. James was certain he saw a flicker of anxiety enter her expressionless eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Like you don’t know,” Lucy mocked the girl. She then turned to James. “She’d make a good actress, don’t you think? Much better job for her than future senator’s wife.”

Allison stepped toward them, irritation reflecting in her clenched jaw. “I could give a shit about being Chase’s wife. And as for Whitney and Amelia, I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you work for the Sheriff’s Department, then where’s your uniform?” She paused, glaring at Lucy. “Where’s your warrant? How about a badge?” She jerked her thumb angrily at James. “And who is this? Your K-9 unit? Get out of my way.
I’ve
got a life, unlike you two, apparently.”

Lucy didn’t budge. “Not until you admit what you did,” she said evenly. James leaned conspicuously on the pitchfork.

Allison’s eyes bored into Lucy’s and then settled on the sharp tines of the pitchfork. She sighed in annoyance and then put her hands on her small hips. “Fine. I stole the drugs. I thought they were codeine pills, okay? I mean, I knew Whit’s daddy had had some surgery so I figured he must have gotten painkillers out of the deal. I only had, like, a second to look in his medicine cabinet before Whitney called me to say that our pizza was ready. So I just grabbed the bottle.” She shrugged again. “When I got home, I didn’t recognize the name so I didn’t take them. I’m not that stupid.” She pulled a piece of straw from her hair. “I was going to check this Coumadin stuff out on the Internet but when I went to get the bottle from where I’d hidden it, the pills were gone. Oh well. I found something else to replace them soon enough.”

“That’s it?” Lucy asked incredulously.

“Yeah, that’s it. You planning on arresting me?” she asked, still unfazed.

Lucy hesitated before saying, “But what about when you heard that Coumadin was the same drug used to kill Brinkley?”

Allison didn’t speak for a moment as she processed this seemingly new information. “I didn’t know that ’til now.” The girl’s anxiety level was clearly growing. She toyed with the horse’s mane with distracted fingers. “It’s not like I read the papers. Besides, so what? I’m sure lots of people around here with bad tickers use that stuff. She narrowed her eyes wickedly. “It’s because most Americans are too fat.”

“Stop pretending, Allison. Unfortunately for you, the bottle you stole was the only one in Quincy’s Gap. That’s how we know you killed Brinkley. We just followed the trail left by the pills.” Lucy’s tone instantly softened as she tried to work a confession out of the nervous girl. “Look, I know Brinkley did all three of you wrong, but you can fix that now, Allison. Just tell me where Amelia is and it will look really good for you later on. You’ve got to do something to help yourself now. You’re backed into a corner.”

Allison’s eyes flicked back and forth between Lucy and James. Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead and she wiped them away with the back of her sleeve. “Brinkley knew about my drug problem,” she finally whispered. “He threatened to tell Chase all about it, but I told him to shove his blackmailing ways up his ass and that I wouldn’t pay. So, I had no reason to kill him.” She kicked at a bit of straw with her riding boot. “I was actually
disappointed
when Brinkley died.”

“Because you don’t want to marry Chase, right?” James asked softly. “You don’t even love him, do you?”

“No, I don’t!” Allison’s anger returned. “But he’s
rich
and he’s from a
powerful
family and
any girl
would consider herself
lucky
enough to have him,” she said in a scathing singsong. “Isn’t that right, mother?”

“That’s right, Allison,” said a flat, emotionless voice from behind James and Lucy.

Allison pushed past the stunned pair and moved toward her mother. Mrs. Shilling looked very different than she had a few days ago at the festival. Instead of a suit, high heels, and pearls, she wore a faded pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and a down vest. Her white-blonde hair was tucked inside a red baseball cap and she wore black leather driving gloves on her hands.

“Welcome to our home,” she said, wearing a cold smile that never reached her eyes.

“Mrs. Shilling—?” James began.

“Oh, call me Rachel. We don’t need to be so formal.” She uttered a strange laugh. “After all, you’re guests of mine now.”

“Mother? What is going on?” Allison demanded.

Rachel turned to her daughter. “
You
have caused me enough trouble for a lifetime. Go get me some duct tape from the tool shed and bring it back here.”

Allison looked at her mother strangely. “But—”

“NOW!” Rachel roared, and Allison hustled off.

“It was
you
,” Lucy breathed. “You found out about the blackmail and
you
killed Brinkley.”

Rachel smiled crookedly. “Well done, Sherlock. Yes, I killed him. Nothing is going to stop this wedding from taking place. Not some stupid, greedy boy, not you two, and none of Allison’s nitwit friends, either. My daughter is checking into a
private
rehab clinic this week and she’ll get over her . . . little problem.” She took a revolver from the front pocket of her vest. “Now, I’d rather not have Allison see this, as she has
no idea
of what I’ve sacrificed in order to ensure that she marries Chase Radford, but I
will
shoot you in front of her if you give me the slightest excuse to. Do we understand one another?”

James and Lucy nodded miserably.

Allison returned bearing a large roll of duct tape. She began disagreeing feverishly with her mother. Rachel put her hands on her hips and pointed toward the stable’s back door.

“Go lock that!” she ordered, but Allison continued to argue.

“We should have told Sheriff Huckabee we were coming out here,” James muttered under his breath. “I don’t think our plan has gone so well.”

Lucy wore an expression of dismay. “I’m sorry, James. I guess this is what happens when you’re untrained in confronting suspects.”

“Your heart was in the right place, Lucy,” James offered kindly. “You were merely thinking of Amelia’s welfare.”

Allison had closed and locked the back door and was now shaking her head over her mother’s next order, which James hadn’t heard over his whispered exchange with Lucy.

Suddenly, Rachel grabbed her daughter by the shoulders. “I said do it! These people have done terrible things and I’m going to make sure they don’t do them again!”

“What things? I don’t get it!” Allison began to cry.