Cover Story (19 page)

“Officer Vicker is immune to his feelings when he's on the job.”

“Huh—like you?” she asked coyly.

Mark gave her chin a playful tug. “Exactly. Now what did you want to see me about?”

“Oh, I just wanted to look at your handsome face”—she grinned—“and find out if you know anything about what happened here yet?”

“Flattery would ordinarily get you everywhere but I don't have any clues to share.”

“You don't or won't?”

“Don't. This guy was a professional. He wore gloves. I'm presuming he took a careful look around before leaving and anything that might have been evidence is now gone. I'm wondering if Miz Coldicutt has been entirely forthcoming with us.”

“Teensy? What would she know?”
Just what I was thinking.

“I plan on asking her that question as soon as I'm allowed. For the perp to return a second night and gain entry when she was at home makes me believe she was the target. He'd already searched the house and come up empty. He wanted to make her talk this time.”

“That's only supposition, isn't it? How do you know it's the same guy both nights?”

Mark gave her a “get real” look. “It's just too much of a coincidence otherwise. No, someone is searching for something. First at Molly's, then at Riverwell Press, and now here. The question is, did he find it last night?”

“Aha. I think there's another question, too. If it is the same guy, then it's obviously not Bob because he's in custody. Therefore, they have to let him go. Right?”

Mark shook his head, ever so slightly. “That's what you'd assume but doesn't mean it will automatically happen. They still have other evidence against him.”

“That doesn't make sense. What you really mean is they're not about to admit he's the wrong guy until they have someone to take his place.”

“Don't go putting words in my mouth, especially within hearing distance of the FBI. I'll push that fact with them but I really don't think they're listening much to me at the moment.”

Lizzie nodded, feeling all her earlier elation deflated. “I dropped Molly off at the hospital on my way over here. I'm not sure how Teensy is doing this morning. I sure hope she's able to tell you something.”

“You're not the only one. I want to put a stop to this before anyone else gets hurt. Or murdered.” He ran his hand across his forehead where perspiration glistened.

Lizzie willed herself not to reach out and touch one of the large damp spots on the front of his uniform shirt. “A day like this, too bad you can't wear shorts,” she offered, managing a small smile.

Mark grinned. “You wouldn't believe how many officers volunteer for bicycle duty just to get to wear shorts.”

“I can think of one or two officers I'd rather not imagine in that situation. I'm going over to the hospital now. Will I see you tonight?”

“You are the only name on my agenda for this evening. Do you want to go out?”

“No. I'll make something and then we can just relax. That's if you promise not to fall asleep on me,” she added with a smile.

“Believe me, only a fool would do so intentionally.”

• • •

L
izzie waited for the elevator to the fifth floor at Mercy General Hospital. She jostled for a spot in the crowded car, wondering what she'd find in Teensy's room. Officer Yost sat in a chair next to the door of room 514. He nodded at Lizzie, who gave him a quick smile. She then attempted to quietly push the door open but it squeaked and Molly peeked around the half-closed curtain and watched her tiptoe past Teensy's roommate, who appeared to be asleep.

Lizzie managed to hold in a gasp when she saw Teensy. Her face looked like someone had added colorful putty at random. A gauze had been wrapped around her head but her red hair stuck up on top. The right eye was swollen half shut. She had a sling holding her right arm and shoulder in place.

Lizzie leaned over and gave her a light kiss on her left cheek. Then she grabbed Molly's hand and squeezed it.

“I feel so bad for you, Teensy. Is there anything I can do?” Lizzie asked.

Teensy closed her eyes. Molly said, “She can't talk or shake her head without it hurting. Closed eyes mean ‘no.' If I could get her to wink, I'd say we'd have a definitive ‘yes.'” Lizzie could see how difficult it was for Molly to joke about what had happened to Teensy.

“Well, I won't bother you then. I just wanted to see how you're doing, Teensy. Molly, do you want a lift home?”

“No, honey. I'm going to stay here awhile or until they kick me out. I'll just call a taxi when I decide to go. You run along and tend to all your chores. And, thanks again for staying over last night.”

“I was happy to do it. You call if you'd rather I picked you up, you hear?” She left as Molly was settling back into the one very worn burgundy leather chair by the bedside.

The realization that Teensy was scheduled to do a book signing at the Winn-Dixie in just over an hour jolted Lizzie. She drove over to the store to explain what had happened. A few customers had already started lining up at the table set up with stacks of Teensy's books.

Eugenia Killick came bustling over to Lizzie as she looked around. “Why, Ms. Turner. You're here early. That's a good sign.”

“I'm afraid it's not,” Lizzie said and went on to explain why Teensy wouldn't be at the event.

“Oh my goodness, Lordy no. How is Teensy? Will she be okay?”

“Yes, she will. But I doubt she'll be able to do any events for a while. And you've got this so beautifully set up, too.”

Eugenia beamed. “I like doing special events and displays. We'll just be sure to have her in as soon as she's able.” She glanced at the line that had now grown to six. “I'll have to tell them. They were all so excited that a real live local author would be signing today. I can't believe something like that's happening right here in Ashton Corners. It's just horrible, that's what it is.”

Lizzie left her in a huddle with the eager book buyers. Word would spread fast through town now.

The truth of anything at all doesn't lie in someone's account of it. It lies in all the small facts of the time. An advertisement in a paper. The sale of a house. The price of a ring.

THE DAUGHTER OF TIME
—JOSEPHINE TEY

T
he next morning, Lizzie tried to work up some enthusiasm for her run. She'd had a late night with Mark over and thought he might stay. But between yawns, he begged off and headed home for a short but necessary sleep. Lizzie knew that some of his reluctance to stay also stemmed from the fact that she had a housemate. They'd drawn away from each other and sat, knees touching, when Andie arrived home from dinner out with her friends.

Andie looked at them both and grinned, then told them she'd say good night right then and there and watch a movie on her computer in her room until bedtime.
Smart girl.

• • •

L
izzie planned to visit her mama and have lunch with her. She'd try to stay available later in the afternoon in case Molly needed her for anything.

She finally decided on a two-piece blue and green jersey tank and short-sleeved top with cream-colored roll cuff pants and dressed, pleased that she'd finally been able to get her brain working enough to make a decision. It must be emotional fatigue. She spent several minutes doing tension-release exercises for her neck and shoulders, then left a note for Andie, who was still asleep, and drove out to Magnolia Manor.

She found Evelyn Turner in the sunroom, eyes closed, face bathed in the beams of the rising sun. She wondered if her mama was asleep or just contented. Someone laughed farther down the hall and Evelyn opened her eyes. She looked at Lizzie a few minutes and then smiled.

Lizzie felt her heart do a flip-flop. She felt sure her mama knew who she was today. She saw it in her eyes. She reached for Evelyn's hand.

“Mama, it looks like you're enjoying some sunbathing.”

Evelyn turned her face back to the sun and closed her eyes but said in a quiet voice, “Yes.”

Lizzie almost danced around the room. Instead she opted to tell her mama about the events of the week, with some major editing out of the nasty parts. The lunch bell rang and Lizzie took Evelyn by the arm and led her to the smaller dining room where guests dined with the residents. She enjoyed the baked pike on the menu and noticed her mama had a healthy appetite for a change.

After a dessert of lemon meringue pie, they walked back to Evelyn's room and Lizzie read a few more chapters from
Emma
by Jane Austen. When Evelyn's eyes started slowly closing, Lizzie helped her lie down on her bed and covered her with a light afghan. She tiptoed out of the room and left the building feeling much happier than she had for several visits.

Lizzie's cell phone rang as she pulled into her driveway. She turned off the ignition and pressed the talk key. It was Jacob.

“Lizzie, I'm going up to Birmingham to see Bob shortly and I wondered if you'd heard an update on Teensy. I couldn't reach Molly and I would like to tell Bob about what's happened. Maybe he'll have some ideas.”

“I'm so glad you'll be visiting him. I can't imagine how he's feeling right now. Teensy seems to be doing as well as can be expected, I guess. She's bruised and sore, and still has pain from the break to her collarbone, but it looks like her concussion wasn't serious, so that's the main thing. Molly's been with her most of the day and said that Teensy should be out of the hospital in a couple of days if she continues to improve. I know Molly will be thrilled you're visiting Bob.” She ran her theory by him again about how Bob should be released since Teensy's second attack happened while he was in jail.

“It makes sense to you and me, Lizzie. But his not explaining his whereabouts was only a part of the total picture to them. I'm meeting Ken and we'll see what can be done. If they charge Bob it will probably be possession of counterfeit money but the amount was really minimal so we should be able to get him out on bail. I'll try my best, Lizzie.”

“I know you will. Please tell him we're all thinking about him.”

“Will do. I'll phone when I know something.”

“Thanks,” Lizzie said and sat holding her cell phone a few minutes before putting it away and going into the house.

Andie had left a note that she went home to get a change of clothes but would be back for dinner, which gave Lizzie plenty of time to focus on what still needed to get done before school started. Too bad her mind kept returning to Teensy and Bob. Just what was going on? Who else was involved? How close was the FBI to finding them?

• • •

L
izzie had arranged with Molly that she would spend a few hours the next afternoon sitting with Teensy. They met outside her door in the hospital corridor as Molly prepared to go home. She looked tired and disheveled. Lizzie wondered if she'd spent the night at the hospital.

“Mark was here this morning and questioned her some,” Molly said. “She wasn't able to remember much of what happened, unfortunately. He was good with her. She's still a bit hard to understand, her cheek's so swollen. I think she's enjoying the painkillers, though,” Molly added with a chuckle. “She doesn't always make a whole lot of sense but doesn't care, either.”

Lizzie smiled. “That sounds promising.”

“Did you hear from Jacob last night?”

“Yes. He said he's staying on in Birmingham at least another day. He's trying hard to get them to formally charge Bob so he can attempt to get him out on bail. Seems they have to decide today.”

“Poor Bob.” Molly sighed.

“Jacob will take good care of him and I will take care of Teensy, so you go home now and just relax.”

“I'll try to do just that. The mayor stopped by to see how she's doing. He said they had a date for tonight.”

“That's an awful lot of dates in a short time span,” Lizzie commented.

“Uh-huh. I think our good mayor may be smitten. Then again, I believe that Teensy is also.” Molly smiled. “She always was one to rush into things. I'll come by after supper again and see how she's doing.”

“By the way, I cancelled this past Saturday's book signing. The manager of Winn-Dixie was shocked to hear what had happened and asked that we let her know when Teensy's able to come in.”

“That's very nice of her,” Molly said then gave Lizzie a quick kiss on the cheek and left.

Lizzie sat reading a magazine while Teensy slept. Finally, after about an hour she heard Teensy stir.

“It's Lizzie, Teensy. Can I get you anything? Some water, maybe?” She spied the drinking glass and straw on the bedside table.

“Yes, thank you, sugar,” Teensy mumbled.

Lizzie held the straw to her lips and waited while Teensy took a small drink.

“You're looking much better,” Lizzie lied.
What else do you say?
“I hear you'll be home in another day or two.”

Teensy closed her eyes and Lizzie wondered if she'd gone back to sleep but she whispered, “I can't wait to blow this joint.”

Lizzie laughed softly even though the next bed over was empty. She wondered if the woman had been released or moved to another room. They sat quietly for a few minutes. Teensy eventually looked as if she were wide-awake. Lizzie hoped it would be a good time to ask her some questions. She had a feeling that Teensy was the crux of the matter, even if she didn't know it herself.

She leaned closer to the bed. “Teensy, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“No, sugar, but you know the police chief tried that this morning. I couldn't remember much of anything to tell him.”

“I'm not thinking about what happened on Saturday. I'm trying more to figure out why this is all happening. Why your house, then you? Teensy”—she leaned even closer and grabbed her hand—“do you know anything at all about the counterfeiting or the murders?”

Teensy smiled. “I know those last painkillers I took seem to be settling in now.” She sighed and closed her eyes.

“Teensy,” Lizzie whispered. “Do you know anything? Please think. Your life could be in danger. Bob's, too. Maybe even Molly's.”

It took several minutes but finally Teensy said in a soft voice, “I'm real scared, Lizzie. I don't want to die.” She opened her eyes and tried to focus on Lizzie. “I might know of a motive, why I got beat up. But you've got to promise not to tell Molly.”

“Molly needs to know, Teensy. She's worried about you also and wants to help protect you.”

“I don't know who it was. I was attacked from behind. I've already told the police that, and Molly, too. But Molly's not to know the rest of it. Swear. On pinky fingers.”

Lizzie had no choice but to do so. She was pleased, though, that Teensy had said nothing about not telling the police.

“What's been happening, Teensy?” she asked.

“My deceased husband, John, God rest him, was a kind and generous man. He truly was. Anything I wanted, I got. And he'd give the shirt off his back to a friend in need.” She paused, almost as if dropping off for a nap, and then roused herself. “But, and it pains me to say this, he had a tendency to get mixed up in big schemes. That's how he made all his money . . . and he had a pile of it.”

Lizzie found it difficult to hear her clearly so leaned in closer.

Teensy sighed then continued, “Unfortunately, quite a bit of it came from somewhat shady activities. Gambling and money laundering being the main ones.” She paused and looked at Lizzie, who tried to maintain a blank face.

Teensy sighed. “I sort of introduced Big John—that's what they all called him—to Orwell Rivers when John wanted to expand his money laundering business. Orwell was working in the bank at that time. He agreed to be part of it, for a tidy sum. Eventually, Orwell had enough set aside to open his own printing shop.” Teensy burped. “Oops, excuse me.”

Teensy tried to sit up a bit straighter but she groaned and grimaced as she slid back down.

“Do you want me to get a nurse to help you?”

“No, don't bother, sugar. I'll be okay. Now where was I?” She seemed a bit more alert. “Oh yes, Orwell. A few years back Big John got involved in a counterfeiting scheme. When his business partner told him they'd need a new printing location, John went to Orwell. He threatened to expose his earlier dealings if he didn't cooperate. And they of course enticed him with a real good paycheck.

“I knew and I didn't do anything to try to talk John out of all this.” Teensy was quiet a few minutes. “Do you totally think I'm a horrid old woman?”

“No, I don't, Teensy. I'm just a bit shocked. Quite a bit, actually.” She thought through what Teensy had just told her. “I can't help feeling if you'd told the police all this to start with, you might not be in here right now.”

Teensy agreed. “But I couldn't just turn on Big John. He may have been a crook but I loved him very much.”

Lizzie nodded. “So, John's partner is still out there. I wonder if he's responsible for all of this. But why?”

“Search me, sugar.” She tried to take a deep breath but couldn't manage it. “I don't even know what he's looking for, if it is indeed him.” Her eyelids fluttered shut and a few minutes later, Lizzie could hear her lightly snoring.

She walked softly out of the room into the hallway and pulled out her cell phone. When Mark answered she told him she had some vital information for him and would be right over. She nodded at the officer sitting beside Teensy's door and left.

On the drive to the police station, Lizzie tried to sort through all the information she'd just heard. Big John Coldicutt had been a gangster and Teensy had known about it. What did that make her? Hopefully, not an accessory.
Oh boy
.

The officer at the front desk sent her right into Mark's office. She sat across from him in the only comfortable visitor's chair and wondered where to begin. When she'd finished telling him what Teensy had told her, Mark just shook his head.

“Does she realize that she probably wouldn't be injured and in the hospital if she'd told me all that at the beginning?”

“She does and she regrets it. I asked if she knew who his partner was and she says she doesn't know. He's behind all this, isn't he?”

“Could very well be. Maybe Rivers did want out after all and our Mr. X wasn't about to let that happen. But what does Cabe Wilson have to do with it?” Mark mused, more to himself than to Lizzie.

“And Bob? I guess you'll have to tell the FBI?”

“When I'm ready to. I have two murders to solve first and I don't want them using this information in any way that will damage my investigation.” Mark sighed. “Thanks for telling me, Lizzie. I've got a meeting with the mayor right now so I'll have to run.”

“What will happen to Teensy?”

“You mean, will there be any charges? I doubt it. She had knowledge but wasn't part of it. I'm inclined to believe her. What good would it do charging a widow in her seventies with anything? No. Her reputation might be a bit tarnished when this all gets out but that's about it.”

Lizzie thought about it a moment. “I think she's most worried about how Molly will take it.”