Cover Story (21 page)

“What would you have done with her if she wouldn't talk?”

“I was to take her out to Riverwell Press and tie her up and leave her in the warehouse.”

Mark shook his head and read Vicker his rights just as Officers Craig and Verge rushed through the door. “Take care of this scum,” he told them and went to Lizzie.

“How bad is it?” He gently removed Teensy's hand and pulled the serviette away.

Lizzie flinched. “I'm not as clobbered as Molly and Teensy had been. You got my message?”

“I did. I just wish I could have gotten here sooner.”

Lizzie smiled cautiously. “You got here in time to get him.” She could hear the sirens in the driveway.
Here we go again.

Mark guided Teensy to the side while the paramedics checked Lizzie's wound. “I'd like you to come to the station and tell me all about what happened.” Teensy started to object. “After we go to the hospital with Lizzie,” he added.

He knew that the cruelest of blows too often came with a smile.

ICE COLD
—TESS GERRITSEN

L
izzie remained in the hospital for observation for several hours. Molly had joined them and stayed until Lizzie was released then drove her back to Molly's house.

“You sure you're all right, honey?” Molly asked once they'd settled in with glasses of sweet tea out on the patio.

“I am, truly, Molly. It looks much worse than it is. I'll bet my headache is gone by tomorrow then we need to get back to figuring out who the main boss is.”

“I'm so grateful to Mark for posting a police officer at Teensy's house. I wish she'd come back here but she can be stubborn. Do you think she's still in danger?”

“It looks like that boss is out to get her. He's tried a couple of times now so I doubt he'll give up.” Lizzie hated to be so blunt but it had to be said.

“I know. That's exactly what I was thinking.” Molly pulled an empty wicker chair toward her and rested her feet on it. “I truly hope this will all be over soon. My nerves are getting shattered. And what's to become of Bob? Surely he'll be released now.” The intensity in her voice startled Lizzie.

“I hope so, Molly.” Maybe they would release him. Maybe they wouldn't. Just because Officer Vicker was under arrest didn't necessarily let Bob off the hook, she hated to admit, even to herself. Vicker said he didn't know who the boss was. Certainly it wasn't Bob. But the FBI might be not so inclined to agree. They could even suggest that since Vicker didn't know the identity of the boss, it could possibly be Bob. So close but so frustrating!

“Maybe you could ask Mark what's happening when he calls you? See if maybe Bob will be released now? Please?”

Lizzie hated it when Molly pleaded. It rarely happened but she knew better than to ignore such a request. “I'll ask him. In fact, I think I'll visit him at the station right now but don't get your hopes up too high. There's only so much he can tell me.”

“You will not.” Molly's voice rose in concern. “You're not fit to do anything but sit and relax.”

Lizzie thought about it a few minutes. She had a headache but she could still function. She wasn't dizzy or anything like that. But she had taken a painkiller so maybe Molly was right. No driving.

“You could drive me but I'd need to go into his office alone.”

She could tell Molly was torn between wanting to take her there and demanding she stay put and rest.

“I'm okay, really I am.” Lizzie tried to reassure her. “Don't I sound fine? Not slurring, babbling or anything?”

Molly thought a few more minutes then nodded. “All right. I drive and we don't stay more than ten minutes.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Molly echoed and reached across to give Lizzie's hand a squeeze.

Molly found a parking space in front of the
Colonist
's office and Lizzie debated about going in first and seeing if George Havers had heard anything. She noticed a big black sedan pull into the police parking lot. Uh-oh. The feds were back in town. She'd have to scoot in quickly in order to grab Mark's attention before they demanded it. Molly followed her in but took a seat in the outer office.

Fortunately, Mark sat in his office at his desk when Lizzie rushed past Officer Yost and through the inner door. Mark looked up in surprise, which turned to concern.

“I'm okay, really I am,” Lizzie assured him. “I had Molly drive me down here because I just had to know what Vicker said and if Bob's off the hook.”

The two FBI special agents walked in unannounced before she got an answer. Mark looked at them, obviously annoyed.

“I'm busy at the moment, gentlemen,” he said.

Drew Jackson looked at Lizzie and looked surprised. “What happened to you?”

“The chief can fill you in. I'm fine, though, really I am.” She was getting tired of asserting that.

Jackson nodded but kept his eyes on her as he said, “We won't take up any of your time, Chief. We'd just like access to your new prisoner.”

“How did you know about him?”

“Good news travels fast,” Ormes threw in. He'd glanced at Lizzie but appeared unbothered by her bandage.

Mark frowned. “I haven't finished questioning him as yet. I'm just letting him cool his heels for a while. Y'all are welcome to sit in when I resume.”

The two men looked at each other and shrugged. “Fine. Can we sit in on this interview, too?” Jackson asked.

Mark leaned back in his chair and interlocked his fingers behind his head. “This here's not an interview.” He smiled. “It's of a personal nature.”

Jackson's jaw tightened. He looked at Ormes who said, “That'll do us just fine, Chief. We have someone else we need to talk to. We'll be back shortly.” He nodded his head in the direction of the door and Jackson, after winking again at Lizzie, followed him out.

Mark's smile turned into a scowl. “I'll be happy to have their fricking hands out of my case.” He looked at Lizzie. “Are you sure you should be here? I'd planned to come over tonight.”

“I know and just so you know, I'm really getting tired of assuring everyone I'm okay.” Lizzie smiled so it wouldn't sound like she'd gotten cranky. “Now, about Officer Vicker?”

Mark visibly relaxed and leaned forward, his arms crossed on the desk. Lizzie noticed his shirt collar didn't look quite so crisp and there were dark circles under his eyes. Another good reason to get this case wrapped up.

“He's admitted to being Coldicutt's man here in town. You were right. He's the nephew, once removed, but he'd never even met the man before getting a phone call out of the blue. It wasn't all familial duty that made him agree to the scheme. There were big bucks in it for him, and Warren Vicker has expensive tastes.”

“Didn't anyone in the office notice his spending habits, if that was the case?”

Mark shrugged. “We'd heard there was family money. Which was true, in a manner of speaking.”

“So what all did he do in this management role?”

“For starters, he hired the drivers who moved the counterfeit bills out of town. I have people on the way to pick them both up now. He didn't authorize the attack on Molly, though; he's adamant about that. She just got caught in the middle after they delivered a few of the wrong boxes.”

“Some middle.” Lizzie sat back and let out a deep sigh. “Does that mean some of the boxes at Molly's had counterfeit money in them?”

“Yeah. They could easily have taken just those boxes but I guess the boys were none too bright. They grabbed all of them and sorted through them later. But it was the attack on Molly that led to Orwell Rivers wanting to pull out of the scheme. The boss ordered Vicker to kill him. They couldn't take a chance on his talking at some point.”

Lizzie shuddered. “Poor guy. He was just greedy. He didn't deserve to die.”

“Not many people do, Lizzie. Cabe Wilson certainly didn't, either. He was part of the ring but also wanted out at that point. Vicker followed him over to Bob's place. It looks like Wilson wanted Miller to help him in some way, maybe by talking to me.”

“But why try to implicate Bob?”

“Vicker realized the whole counterfeit ring was compromised and just jumped at the chance to divert suspicion while at the same time get even with Bob Miller for blocking his promotion years ago. Seems Miller had even threatened to fire him at one point.”

“So does that mean Bob will be released?”

“It would if it were my decision. I'm hoping the FBI will see it the same way, which is why I should go and question Vicker some more before they come back.”

“Do you think Officer Vicker used his role as liaison to attempt to derail the investigation in any way?”

“I've been wondering that myself. We'll have to go over everything just to be certain.”

Mark stood and walked over to the door. He closed it and turned to Lizzie, pulling her into his arms. In the corner, away from the windows, he gave her a long, deep kiss. She was more than a little out of breath when they pulled apart.

“And here I thought you looked tired,” she whispered.

He grinned. “That gave me some of my energy back. Thank you.”

She smiled. “My pleasure.” She felt much better, too.

Murder is always a mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner.

THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY
—OSCAR WILDE

“T
eensy wants to what?”

“Now don't get so excited, Lizzie,” Molly said, leaning across the gearshift separating their seats and patting Lizzie on the arm. It was two days later and Lizzie was driving Molly over to Teensy's house. “She wants to get those signings set up again. She's tired of sitting around doing nothing. That girl never had much in the line of patience. Even though it's only a few days since she got out of the hospital and she's still more colorful than a quilt to look at.”

Lizzie gave Molly a quick glance. Her own bruises were just faint reminders at this point. “I'm surprised she'd want to have her public see her right now.”

Molly chuckled. “She thinks it'll give her a bit of a cachet, her newfound notoriety so to speak, so she's willing to forgo the makeup. Just this once.”

Lizzie shifted her eyes off the road back to Molly for a second. “You mean, that's why we're on our way to her place right now?”

“Well, I didn't think you'd mind,” Molly stated. “You said you weren't busy.”

“No, I don't mind, but I think Mark will. The idea's that she's to keep a low profile until the boss is found. He was the one who ordered Officer Vicker to find out if Teensy knew his identity. And he doesn't have his answer yet.”

“Well, Teensy's determined to put that out of her mind, I guess. She never did have a lot of common sense.”

Lizzie knew she shouldn't give voice to the thought that just popped into her mind, but she did anyway. “What if Teensy has a lot more than common sense? What if she's in fact very crafty?”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“Well, just say that maybe Teensy and her husband were running the counterfeit ring and when he died, she took over. That's one of the reasons she moved to town—not the only reason of course,” she added quickly at the look on Molly's face. “Maybe she's trying to make us believe there's someone else involved, someone's who's trying to silence her? I know that's hard to even think about but you haven't seen her for so many years, Molly. She may have changed. A lot.”

“She'd then be using me.” Molly was silent a few moments. “No, I don't buy that. She wouldn't do that to me. And what about her injuries?”

Lizzie glanced at Molly but didn't say anything. “You think she paid someone to do that to her.” It wasn't a question.

“It's just speculation, Molly, but if she knows she's not in any real danger she'd be confident about doing events.”

They'd driven a couple of blocks in silence when a green sedan approached from the opposite direction. Molly glanced over and gasped as the car passed by. “Teensy was in that car. She was trying to get my attention. I think she was mouthing, ‘Help.'”

“What? Are you sure? You can't be sure. The car passed by so quickly. Was she driving?”

“No, she was the passenger. I didn't even glance at the driver I was so busy watching Teensy.” Molly's voice had risen by a few decibels.

“But it can't be her. She has a police guard and he wouldn't let her drive off with just anyone.”

“Stop this car, Lizzie,” Molly demanded.

Lizzie braked hard. “What?”

“Now turn around and follow them. At a discreet distance, of course.”

“Molly, you can't be serious.” Lizzie was getting a bit exasperated. This was crazy. If it even had been Teensy in the car, she could be on her way someplace with a friend who was police approved. But if she were expecting them, surely she wouldn't just leave?

“Yes, I'm serious and I'm asking you to please do as I say. I don't know what all is happening here but I do know it was Teensy. And I know she's in trouble.”

Lizzie searched her friend's face then sighed. “All right, Molly.”

She checked for traffic then pulled a U-turn, speeding up until they caught a glimpse of the sedan. Fortunately it had kept going straight along Florida Street but now made a left on Beaufort, heading out of town.

Lizzie waited while another car got between them, and then pulled onto Beaufort. She hoped the car in front would stay there for most of the drive, giving her some anonymity. After about ten minutes, the green sedan they were following turned in to a parking lot and sped up across it, disappearing around the back of the building. Lizzie stopped just inside the lot then drove slowly in that direction. The building, a warehouse of some sort, looked closed for the day. Or abandoned. Lizzie pulled into a loading bay that afforded them some cover, then got out of the car to walk around to the back. She signaled Molly to stay put, which she did.

Lizzie peered around the corner just in time to see a man shut the passenger door of a muddy old pickup truck, dark in color. He then walked around and climbed in the driver's seat. Lizzie hid behind a garbage container as the truck backed up then drove past her. She slipped around the corner and ran to the green sedan. It was empty. She doubled back to her car and took off in the direction the truck had driven, right back onto Beaufort.

“What happened?” Molly asked, out of breath, as if she'd been chasing the car.

“I think they're both in the pickup. They must have made a switch behind the building because the green car is there and it's empty.”

“What on earth is going on?” Molly whispered.

Lizzie didn't even want to venture a guess. She sped up until she caught sight of the truck a few blocks ahead, then immediately slowed down. After about a mile, the truck turned right again, into another parking lot, and did the same routine, driving around to behind the building.

“Riverwell Press,” Molly said quietly.

“Molly, grab my cell phone out of my purse and call the police. I'll park over beside the building and sneak around back. You wait here until they arrive.”

Lizzie left Molly talking on the phone and she hugged the wall with her back, moving to the corner, listening for sounds before glancing around it. The pickup was parked up close to the back entrance but was vacant. Lizzie moved forward cautiously, being careful to crouch underneath the windows as she inched toward the door.

She took a few deep breaths to try to quiet her pounding heart then opened the door and listened again. She could hear voices from deep into the warehouse. She walked softly into the office area and toward the door leading to where the books had been housed.
Thank God I know the layout of this place
.

Before she knew it, Molly was at her side. Lizzie shook her head and pointed to the back door, urging her to leave. Molly shook her head and walked over to the interior door, leaning her ear to it. Lizzie threw her hands in the air and joined her. The words were mumbled but sounded like there was some space between the door and the people. Lizzie quietly eased the door open a fraction and could suddenly hear very clearly.

“I am so sorry, Teensy. I certainly did enjoy your company but you can understand, I am a businessman and I just can't risk the fact that some day you might suddenly remember something John said. Or some deep memory will just wangle its way to the surface and you'll know.”

“You're the big boss,” Teensy gasped.

The man still had his back to Lizzie but she knew that voice. And she could tell he had something in his hand, pointed at Teensy. Molly pushed Lizzie to the side and peeked through the doorway. She covered her own gasp with her hand. She looked at Lizzie, who frowned. What to do? She couldn't count on the police arriving in time. She looked around for a weapon. Maybe she could creep up on him. Hit him over the head. But with what? She spotted a paper cutter on top of the metal filing cabinet and tapped Molly on the arm, pointing to it. Molly nodded. While Lizzie walked softly over to get it, she heard the door open wider. Her heart stopped until she realized Molly had opened it and was walking noisily across the floor toward Teensy and her captor.
Oh, Molly, you fool
.

“I know what you're up to, Mayor Hutchins, and you're not about to get away with it.” Molly's voice was loud but calm. She kept walking toward them.

“You hold it right there, Miz Mathews,” Hutchins said as he wheeled around and pointed the gun at her.

Lizzie slowly inched back from the opening.

“Just why did you have to go and poke your pretty little head into this, Miz Mathews?”

“Why, Mayor. You know that Teensy and I are like sisters. I couldn't go letting you hurt her, now could I?” Molly's voice dripped with Southern honey. Lizzie hadn't heard her use such a tone before. But this wasn't the time to admire it.

“You just stop right there. No, move around beside Teensy, where I can keep an eye on you both. Do you expect me to believe you came out here alone?” Hutchins took a quick look around the space behind him. Lizzie remained out of sight.

“I happened to pass you two driving along and I knew the police wouldn't allow her to go driving around without protection, so I just followed you. Good thing, too.”

“Not so good for you, I'm afraid. The police, on the other her hand, trust me as the mayor to take good care of the lady. Now, I'll just have to adjust my story when I report to the police that I was car-jacked and they took Teensy along with them. Or maybe I won't. I could just remove your body and it could be found later far away from here. It would truly be a mystery as to why you died.” He laughed and Lizzie felt a chill run down her spine. It's now or never.

She inched toward the door, peeked through and saw the mayor had his back to the door once again. She took a deep breath, slipped out of her sandals and hung on tight to the paper cutter, squeezing through the door opening. She knew Molly could see her and would keep Hutchins talking. She concentrated instead on where she placed her feet and doing so quietly.

“Why did you do it, Harold?” Teensy asked. A tiny sob escaped her lips.

“For the money, of course. I've dabbled in the odd illegality for many years but here was my chance to make it big. And who would question the mayor? I could keep my tabs on what the police knew and I made sure to keep at arm's length in case things should go down the drain, which of course they did. I just hadn't counted on John's dying like that and then you moving here.”

“I hadn't counted on it, either,” Teensy said, sarcasm dripping.

Lizzie had crept up to within striking distance but she was so afraid he could hear her breathing or the pounding of her heart. She carefully raised the paper cutter, preparing to clobber him with it, but found it awkward to get a good grip.

As she struggled with it, Teensy grasped her chest, moaning and crumbling to the ground. Molly cried out and tried to catch her. Hutchins lowered the gun as he leaned down toward her.

Lizzie had been startled too but quickly regained her sense and smashed Hutchins on the back of the head. He groaned and folded up in a heap on the ground.

Molly was still calling out to Teensy, who opened her eyes, looked at Hutchins then grinned. “Wonderfully done, sugar,” she said to Lizzie.

Molly almost let her fall backward on the concrete floor. “Why Teensy Coldicutt, I swear, my heart was in my throat. I thought you'd gone and had yourself a heart attack.”

Teensy lay back down again, flat out on the floor, pulling Molly down beside her. “I almost did when I noticed Lizzie creeping up there. I was so worried he'd hear her that it was either have a real heart attack or fake one.”

Lizzie leaned over to check on Hutchins. “He's out cold.” She picked up his gun and walked over to the two, keeping the paper cutter in her other hand just in case. “Are you certain y'all are okay?”

“Oh yes. I'm just fine,” Teensy said as the police sirens whined their way to the back door. “Just be sure to point that thing in another direction please, sugar.”