Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7) (20 page)

The accident played out over and over in my sleep. Sometimes Jake was in the SUV when I came to, sometimes he wasn’t. I stumbled through the trees, calling his name. But Ethan would show up instead, chasing me through the countryside, laughing every time I fell. He reached out, grabbed my arms, and started shaking me. “Lizzie, Lizzie, did you really think you could get away? You’re not going anywhere. I’m always going to be here.”

“Lizzie?” a male voice said. “Wake up.”

“Ignore him. He can’t help you,” Ethan laughed.

“Lizzie,” the voice said, more forcefully this time. Ethan held on tighter, but I managed to kick him in the shin, and when he let go of my right arm, I slugged him.

Only I hadn’t slugged Ethan. When I finally opened my eyes, T.J. was kneeling beside me, holding his jaw. “T.J.! What…how…oh my gosh, did I hit you?”

“You’ve got a mean right hook, woman,” he said, rubbing the left side of his face.

“I am so sorry, T.J. I…” I started crying.

“Hey now, there’s no reason to cry,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “It wasn’t a fatal blow. It just surprised me, that’s all.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked him after a few minutes.

“A man named Garth called me, and told me about the accident. He said Jake’s mother was sending her private jet to pick me up. I brought Owen with me. He’s out in the hallway.”

“What time is it?”

“About 10 a.m. How’s he doing?”

“Broken shoulder, cracked ribs, no spleen. The doctor told us he’ll recover.”

T.J. looked at the cut on my forehead. “What about yourself? Did they look at you?”

“Just a few bruises.”

“A few bruises?” Patricia said as she came in the room. She looked impeccably dressed as usual, wearing a tan sweater with dark brown pants and brown heels. “She’s one giant walking bruise.”

T.J. stood up. “You must be Mrs. Mathias,” he said, walking over to shake her hand. “I’m T.J. Roosevelt.”

“Please, call me Patricia. How was your flight?”

“Just fine, thank you. I got some sleep on the way here.”

“And who is the gentleman in the hallway?”

“Sheriff Owen Greene. He’s in charge of our little town, and a good friend of Jake’s.”

Patricia nodded. “Good. It sounds like Lizzie will have plenty of protection while Jake is laid up here.”

“Garth didn’t provide a whole lot of information when he called. Could someone tell me what is going on around here?”

Patricia moved over to the bed and gazed down at Jake, stroking his hair for a moment. “Someone tried to kill them last night. They were run off the road.”

“I’m really sorry about your Lexus, Patricia,” I said.

“Pft, it’s just a material thing, easily replaced. You two are alive, and that’s the most important thing.” She looked up at me, and I could see tears in her eyes. “Would you excuse me for a minute? I’m going to see if I can get an update on his condition.” She hurried out of the room.

Owen walked into the room, glancing briefly at Jake as he came over to me. “You don’t look too bad,” he said, giving me a big hug.

I winced as he squeezed a little too hard. “I felt okay until you squeezed the stuffing out of me,” I gasped.

“Oh, sorry,” he said as he let me go. “What have you two been up to out here?”

“Nothing.”

“So someone decided to run you off the road just for laughs?”

“Well, you know…”

Owen snorted. “Yeah, I know. You asked too many questions again.”

“We haven’t talked to that many people, Owen.”

“Who did you talk to?” T.J. asked.

“Ethan’s father, two women who used to go to school with Ethan, and a former school teacher.”

“Four people? That’s it?” Owen said.

“A few others, but they couldn’t tell us anything. Someone tried to kill two of us, but they did kill the person who gave us the information.”

Chapter 25

“What?” Owen said.

I nodded. “Ruthdale, Simpkins, a former teacher at the high school. She was found dead a few hours after we talked to her.”

“Whatever she told you must have been really good.”

“Remember Jessica, the young girl that accused Ethan of assault, and was later found dead? Mrs. Simpkins was able to provide Ethan with an alibi, although no one asked her about it back then.”

“Who knew that she told you that?” T.J. said.

We were interrupted by Patricia and Garth. “Why don’t the three of you go back to my house and relax? Lizzie needs a hot shower, some food and some sleep. You can interrogate her later.”

“We aren’t interrogating her,” Owen protested.

“Could have fooled me,” Patricia replied, giving him an icy glare. “Garth will drive. There’s plenty to eat in the kitchen, so help yourselves. We’ll fix up bedrooms for the two of you, assuming of course that you plan to stay for a while?”

“Yes ma’am,” T.J. said. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome. Now go on, take her home, and make sure she takes her medication.”

I looked at Jake. “You’ll call us when he wakes up?”

Patricia nodded. “You have my word.”

I gave her a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said, patting me gently on the back. She looked at T.J. and Owen. “You two let her get some rest. When Jake wakes up, Garth will bring you back.”

I started to bend over to pick up the overnight bag, but T.J. grabbed it for me. The three of us didn’t say anything as we went downstairs and through the front doors. Garth was waiting for us, leaning on the passenger side of a black Cadillac Escalade. “Is he awake yet?” he asked as he opened the back door for us.

Shaking my head, I climbed into the back seat and leaned back against the leather head rest. Garth closed the door while Owen got in the front seat and T.J. got in on the other side. He intertwined his fingers with mine as Garth got in and drove away from the hospital. “Did Patricia buy a new car this morning?” I asked Garth.

“No, this is my personal vehicle,” he replied. “We’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Unless someone tries to run us off the road again,” I muttered.

“Not bloody likely,” Garth said. “They’d have to catch us first.”

“What exactly do you do for the Mathias family, Garth?” T.J. said.

“Whatever they require of me, Agent Roosevelt.”

Owen looked back at T.J., who shrugged. “I’m retired.”

“One never really retires though, do they?”

“You tell me.”

Garth didn’t say anything. A few minutes later, he turned to the left and headed down the long driveway to the Mathias house. “This is Jake’s house?” Owen said incredulously.

“His parents’ house,” I corrected him.

“Just how rich are these people?” he said.

“I didn’t ask.”

Garth parked in front of the house. “There are some things that people around here don’t ask,” he said. “That is one of them.” He got out, leaving us sitting there.

“Who is this guy?” Owen said, looking at me.

“The only answer I ever get is ‘It’s classified’.”

“Really?” T.J. replied. “Interesting.”

We got out and followed Garth inside. The guys were more overwhelmed by the inside than they were the outside of the house. Their rooms were near mine, but what was really cool was when Garth took us downstairs to a game room. A huge TV on the wall (don’t ask me about size, I’m really lousy trying to figure those kind of things out), leather theater seats, a Rocky and Bullwinkle pinball machine, a kitchen area, and a regulation-size pool table filled the huge space. “I thought you might like some privacy to talk,” Garth said. “The room is soundproof. Jake and I are the only ones who come down here. I stocked the fridge earlier, so there’s plenty of food and drinks. If there is something you want that you don’t see, let me know. Oh, and the chairs recline if you want to get some rest. The remote for the TV should be on one of the chairs.”

“Would you care to join us?” I said. “We’d welcome your input on the situation.”

He looked at his watch. “I have some business to take care of first, but perhaps later.” He smiled and left.

“That guy creeps me out,” Owen said, pulling out a cue stick from the rack on the wall.

“He’s actually very nice, very understanding,” I said. “He’s kind of a big brother to Jake, I think.”

“Did Jake tell you anything about him?” T.J. said as he racked the balls on the pool table.

I shook my head. “He gave me the same answer, ‘classified’. I don’t know if that means he doesn’t know, or if Garth vowed to cut out his tongue if he ever told anybody.” Sighing, I sank into one of the theater chairs and rubbed my face.

T.J. came over and knelt down. “How are you feeling?”

“Like ten Mac trucks ran me over, backed up, and did it again.”

Owen sat down in a chair next to me. “What’s been going on around here, Lizzie?”

“That’s the same thing your sister said to me at 3:30 in the morning.”

“You talked to Trixie?”

“I was looking for T.J. I thought she might know where I could find him.”

“What did she say?”

“I got the impression she wanted to jump on the first plane out here.”

Owen chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“Tell us what has happened since you and Jake got here,” T.J. said.

So, while they shot a game of pool, I told them everything, at least everything I could remember at the moment. I was so tired that I thought I was leaving something out.

“A bit coincidental that your accident happens right after you finished meeting with Edward Winthrop,” Owen commented.

“That thought crossed my mind,” I said.

“What was your impression of Edward, Lizzie?” T.J. asked.

“Controlling. Someone who was used to getting his way, and God help you if he didn’t get what he wanted.”

“Like father, like son,” Owen said.

“Well, at least we know where Ethan learned it.”

“You want to play the winner?” Owen held out his cue to me.

“Too sore to kick your buns right now. Maybe later.”

“Is it about time for you to take your medication?” T.J. said as he racked the balls again.

I looked at the clock on the wall. “Not for another hour. There’s something that’s bothering me.”

“Just one thing?” Owen snorted. “I can think of several things that are bothering me about this whole mess.”

T.J.’s phone rang, and he stepped into the kitchen area to answer it. “Was Ruthdale Simpkins killed for what she told us? And if so, then how did the killer find out about it?”

“How many people saw or overheard you talking to her that day?”

“A few people passed us on the sidewalk. One lady stopped to remind her about some meeting. That’s it.”

“Then what happened?”

“We had lunch with Kassandra Sherwood and Sage Kingsley, two of Jake’s old school friends.”

“Did you mention meeting her to them?”

T.J. glanced over at me and smiled. “I remember her name came up, and Jake might have mentioned the conversation we had with her.”

“Could one of them have told someone?”

“Anything is possible, but who would they…Edward. You think one of them told Edward?”

“It’s certainly a place to start, I think. Do you know how to get a hold of them?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m sure Garth would know, though.”

T.J. came over at that moment. “Sorry to interrupt, but someone wants to talk to you,” he said, holding out his phone to me.

“Who is it?”

“Your mother.”

Chapter 26

“Hello, Mother.”

“Would you please explain to me why I have to find out what is going on with my only child from the biggest blabbermouth in town?”

“It’s nice to hear from you too, Mother. How’s your honeymoon going? Where are you now?”

“I’m standing in the middle of my living room, and quit trying to change the subject,” she snapped. “Is what Gladys said true?”

“You’re home already? Short honeymoon,” I said sarcastically.

T.J. and Owen laughed.

“Elizabeth,” Mother said, using that tone of voice that said I was trying her patience.

“I don’t know how to answer your question because I don’t know what Gladys told you.”

“She said you were attacked by a man, and that you publicly humiliated her again. Then she said you and Jake murdered a man, and skipped town to avoid being arrested by Owen.”

“I know for a fact you just spent ten minutes talking to T.J., during which time you probably asked him what you just asked me. Am I right?” No answer. “That’s what I thought. So tell me what’s really wrong, Mother.”

She was quiet for a minute. “That I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. Why didn’t you call me, Lizzie?”

“Because…” Why hadn’t I called her? Because I didn’t know where she was? Because I didn’t want to ruin her honeymoon? “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“T.J. said you were in an accident last night.”

“Yes,” I replied, glaring at T.J., who shrugged. “I’m fine, just a couple of bruises.”

“He told me you were with Jake.”

“It’s not what you think, Mother. We had a meeting with someone that he knew.”

“So you aren’t dating him again?”

“Good grief, no! Who gave you that idea, as if I have to ask?”

“Just put it over there, Jack,” Mother said to her husband. “When are you coming home?”

“I’m not sure. I want to make sure that Jake is out of danger, and there are a few more things to do here. Maybe three or four days. I’ll call and let you know for sure.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful, and don’t take any unnecessary risks. Whatever you’re doing isn’t worth dying for, Lizzie.”

“I promise. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Be safe.”

I ended the call and handed the phone back to T.J. “Did you really have to tell her about the accident?”

“Trixie already told her; I was just confirming the news.” I massaged my temples.

“Headache?”

“It’s starting to pound,” I said, checking the time. “It’s after four. I haven’t eatien in almost twenty-four hours, not much sleep, and I was in an accident. Can’t imagine why my head hurts.”

Garth came downstairs at that moment, wearing hot pads and carrying a glass dish. “A friend of mine made a chicken and rice casserole for you,” he said, putting the dish on the counter. “There’s some green beans and fruit salad upstairs. I’ll bring it down next. You’ll find some dishes in the cabinet by the fridge, and silverware in the drawer next to the sink.”

“T.J.,” Owen said as Garth went back upstairs, “don’t you have someone in the FBI you can call to find out some info about this guy?”

“Because he brought us some food?” T.J. said. Owen gave him a dirty look.

“Look,” I said, “Jake trusts him, and he hasn’t done anything to make me doubt him. On the other hand, he’s just a bit…odd. Like he knows things, but doesn’t want to share.”

T.J. took three plates out of the cabinet, and pulled out the silverware. “I have a contact I can get in touch with after we eat. Do you know his last name?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea if Garth is his first or last name.”

“My full name is Garth Christoph Banks,” he said, putting two bowls on the counter by the other dish. “My father is British, my mother is American.”

“Explains the slight accent and the manners,” Owen said.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Garth smiled slightly as he took three serving spoons out of another drawer. He fixed a plate of food, put a fork on the edge of the plate, and brought it over to me. “It won’t be necessary to call your contact, Agent Roosevelt. I think we should all pool our resources and work together, don’t you?” He took a Dr Pepper out of the fridge and handed it to me. “But not today. Ms. Crenshaw needs some rest, and I need to talk to some people before we talk.” Walking over to the stairs, he turned and looked at us. “Be ready by 10 a.m., and wear something warm.”

“Have you heard anything from Patricia about Jake?” I asked him.

“He’s holding his own, which is a good thing.”

“Well, I didn’t see that one coming,” I said after he left.

“I wonder what made him decide to talk,” Owen said as he fixed his own plate of food.

T.J. said, “I wonder if he’s going to tell us the truth, or if we’re being set up.”

“At the moment, I don’t care,” I said, taking a bite of the casserole. “I’m going to eat this wonderful meal, I’m going to take my medication, turn on the TV, and fall asleep. You two can do whatever you want.”

The guys played a few more games of pool before joining me in front of the TV to watch a college football game. I have no idea who won, because I fell asleep before halftime.

I woke up the next morning in my bed upstairs. T.J. was asleep in the chaise lounge, just like Jake had done a couple of nights ago. As I started to get up, every muscle screamed in agony, and I grunted, which woke up T.J. “What’s wrong?” he said, sitting up.

“Just sore.”

“I saw the bruises when I tucked you into bed last night.”

“How did they look?”

“Well, it’s a good thing purple is your favorite color.”

I pulled back the covers and looked at my bare legs. They were definitely purple. I swung my legs over the edge of bed, and T.J. helped me to my feet. “I’m going to take a hot shower. Sweats are going to be my best friend today. I hope that doesn’t offend anyone.”

“I’m sure everyone will understand.”

“Frankly, my dear, at this point, I don’t care if they do or not,” I replied as I shuffled toward the bathroom.

An hour later, after a shower, a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits and a life-giving Dr Pepper, we were back in Garth’s SUV. “Where are we going?” I asked him from the back seat.

“To my office.”

I looked out the window and noticed there weren’t any buildings around. “Wait a minute, this is the road to the airport, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“We aren’t going to be flying anywhere, are we?”

“No, ma’am, we’re keeping our feet firmly on the ground, I assure you.”

“Have you heard anything from Patricia?”

“She told me last night that Jake was awake for an hour last night. The doctor said he’d probably sleep through the night, given all the trauma his body had been through. The best thing for him right now is rest. She was going to go back later today.”

“Wait, she was at the house?” I said, shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wanted to talk to her.”

“Because she didn’t come home until 5 a.m. She went straight to bed.”

Garth turned down the airport road, and drove us to the Mathias hanger. He parked on the backside, shut the engine off, and turned to face us. “I must ask that what you see and hear today is kept between us.”

“What is this, ‘
Mission: Impossible
’?” Owen laughed.

“I’m trusting you with something that is very important to me, and I would hate to have that trust violated,” Garth replied.

I put my hand on his arm. “You have our word. If either one of them talks, I’ll take them out myself.”

He grinned. “Well, I hope you won’t have to take such drastic measures, Ms. Crenshaw.”

“I hope not, either. And for the last time, please call me Lizzie.”

We got out and followed Garth through the side door of the hanger. We walked across the concrete floor, and stopped in front of a wall of steel shelves. Grabbing the edge of one shelf, he pulled it toward him, revealing a grey metal door. There was one key lock on the left side of the door. Garth pulled out a separate set of keys, selected one, and unlocked the door. Behind the door was a set of stairs that went down.

“A bit cloak and dagger, isn’t it?” Owen said as Garth flipped a switch on the wall, lighting up the stairway.

“Micha has said that on more than one occasion,” he replied as he led the way down.

“Who is Micha?” I said.

“My computer expert, or as you would say, a computer geek.”

We got to the bottom of the stairs and walked down a hallway to another door. This time, Garth pulled out a small card, and ran it through a scanner that was on the right side of the door. It slid open, and we entered a large room painted a sunny yellow. “Just because we do our business underground doesn’t mean we need to use dark colors,” Garth explained. “The yellow makes us feel less confined.”

“Says the man who doesn’t spend a lot of time down here,” a female voice replied.

He led us over to a large desk area, where a young woman sat in front of three large computer screens. The first thing I noticed was the brown French braid that went down her back. When she turned around, I saw green eyes behind a pair of black nerdy glasses. She had on a well-worn University of Virginia hoodie, navy blue sweats and tennis shoes. She looked me up and down. “A woman after my own heart,” she said, pointing to my sweats. “These are just way more comfortable than jeans or dress pants.”

“I totally agree.”

“He doesn’t,” she said, jerking her thumb in Garth’s direction. “He has been trying to get me to wear nice outfits for three years. I keep explaining to him that no one sees me down here in the Pit, so no one is going to care what I wear.”

“I’m Lizzie Crenshaw,” I said, holding out my hand.

She shook it. “Micha Michaelson.”

“Micha?”

“My mother was going through her Russian literature phase when she was pregnant with me. The doctor told them they were having a boy, so they chose Micha. When I turned out to be a girl, they kept the name anyway. My brother’s name is Jean-Pierre, but he prefers to go by Peter.”

She turned to the other two. “You must be Owen Greene,” she said, shaking Owen’s hand. “Sheriff of Ellis County, Texas, correct?” He nodded. “Have you ever arrested your mother or sister for running their gentlemen’s club? Man, I bet that would be rather awkward during the holidays. ‘Now, Mom, don’t forget about your court date on Monday.’”

Owen’s face turned red as T.J. and I laughed. “Thankfully, it’s not that kind of club,” I told her. “And if he ever arrested either one of them, his mother would disown him for sure.”

“The retired FBI agent,” Micha said, looking at T.J., “now a deputy in a small town. Quite a step down, wouldn’t you say?”

“Not really,” he replied, glancing at me. “There are benefits to living there.”

She arched her right eyebrow. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Did you bring us here so she could give us a rundown of our personal lives, or is there a reason we’re in your secret lab?” Owen asked Garth.

“I asked Micha to do some checking on Ethan, to find out just how many other women he’s assaulted over the years.”

“Isn’t that classified or protected information?” I said. I wasn’t happy about the idea that someone could hack police or hospital records and find out what had happened to me.

“Not if you know the way around firewalls,” Micha said. She must have been able to tell what I was thinking, because she reached out and took my hand. “It won’t go beyond these walls, Lizzie, I promise. And not to be insensitive or belittle what happened to you, but you are one of the lucky ones.”

I resisted the urge to jerk my hand away. “I certainly don’t feel lucky.”

Micha picked up a folder off her desk and handed it to me. “Compared to Rachel Samuels, you are extremely blessed.”

Taking a deep breath, I opened the folder and gasped. The photo staring back at me was of a woman who had been severely beaten. One eye swollen shut, a cheek cut open, and red marks around her neck. T.J., who had been looking over my shoulder, snatched the folder from me and closed it.

“His normal routine with women started with a casual dinner, followed by flowers for a couple of weeks. He might even send a gift or two. After that, he would switch things up a little, depending on the personality of the woman. A trip to Vegas for one young lady; another time, a ski trip to Vail. He assaulted those two women on their trips.”

“Did they file charges?” T.J. said.

“All the women except one filed charges, but they never made it very far into the system. Daddy dearest always paid them off, and the women suddenly developed amnesia.”

“What about Rachel?” I said.

Micha looked at Garth. “She was beaten to death,” he replied. “She was the one who went on the trip to Vail. Her parents reported her missing when she didn’t show at their house three days after she was due back. Ethan told police that he had left early due to an emergency business meeting, and therefore had no idea what happened to her. They found her body in a ravine after the spring thaw.”