Murder in the Air (28 page)

“Mom—”

“When Stefano said someone took his truck that morning, I figured it was you. Who else knew where he was? Where to find his keys? I drank to stop myself from working out the rest, but I knew. I knew! The police had the right idea, only I told them they were crazy. My Benny would never murder his grandfather or the man I loved. Oh, Benny, how could you?”

Bennett turned to face Denise, his tone seductive. “I did it for you, Mom. So we can have a good life together, the one we always planned.”

Denise’s laughter was a hideous sound. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

“You promised we’d stand by each other, no matter what.”

“I talked about you tonight, Benny. I told the group how you threw that line back in my face again and again—so I’d accept things I knew were wrong.”

“You shouldn’t have talked about me, Mom.” Bennett sounded scared.

You were a terrified seven-year-old when I said those words to you. Your father had just slammed out of the house, taking my last twenty dollars, leaving us six months behind in the rent.”

They were caught up in their past, oblivious to Lydia. More vehicles joined the flow of traffic as they approached the main street of a town. Lydia slowed down. Time to unbuckle her seat belt and exit the car. Bennett wasn’t wearing his, she noticed.

“Haven’t I taken care of you?” Bennett demanded. “Got you what you needed?”

Denise’s tone turned derisive. “Such a devoted son. You were the only kid who supported his mother’s habit. Well, I’m clean now and I don’t need your ‘help.’”

“Mom—”

“You killed my father for the money, and tried to do the same to Evelyn. Why Stefano? And why poor Nicky? What did she ever do?”

“It turned out to be necessary.”

“Necessary? You’re a monster, Bennett! I gave birth to an unspeakable monster!”

Bennett’s voice rose like that of a child’s. “You don’t mean that, Mommy. Tell me you don’t mean it!”

Denise sniffed. “But I do.”

Bennett rounded on Lydia, shoving his bugged-eyed face into her line of vision. “I told you to keep your mouth shut, but you didn’t listen. You’ll pay for turning my mother against me! Starting now!”

He pulled the knife from his jacket and pressed it against her throat. Denise screamed. Lydia gasped. Terror surged through her body. But his accusation that she was to blame for his mother’s rejection rankled enough for her to retort, “It’s your doing, Bennett.”

Venting spurred her on. She accelerated and passed the car in front of her, earning an angry honk from the driver.

“Hey!” Bennett shouted. “Slow down!” He lowered the knife.

Denise leaned over the front seat and thrust her hand between Lydia and Bennett. “Give me that!” she demanded.

“I will not. Sit back and be quiet!”

Hope blossomed in Lydia’s breast, now that she had Denise’s sympathy. She turned to her. “Your son’s planning to kill me, aren’t you, Bennett?”

“The sooner the better.”

Not while I’m moving, you won’t!
Lydia maneuvered the Lexus into the gap between two cars in the left lane. A horn blasted. Her only chance was to continuously change lanes and keep Bennett off balance.

“Turn right here!”

Lydia swerved back into the right-hand lane, but passed the turn.

“Damn it, I said to turn!”

She drove faster than usual and feared she was losing control. But she still wore her seat belt, and had a better chance of surviving a car crash than a stabbing.

“Bitch!” he shouted. Lydia blinked as the point of the knife waved inches from her right eye.

“Are you crazy?” Denise screamed. “Put down the knife!”

“Keep out of this, Mom! Lydia, make a U-turn and go where I tell you to go or I’ll kill you here and now!”

Lydia felt a sting on her upper arm. She glanced over and saw blood dripping onto the seat.

“Benny, don’t hurt her!” Denise reached over the front seat to shove his hand away.

“I’ll show her!”

Bennett held the blade against her neck. He meant to wreak serious harm! Lydia floored the accelerator and veered into the left lane. Back into the right lane. The car shook, thrusting him against the passenger door. She had to keep moving! Without slowing down, she waited till a pickup truck passed on her left then darted behind it.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Bennett draw back his arm, the knife gripped in his fist. She shuddered, dreading what was coming.

“Don’t!” Denise threw herself forward, jamming into the space between the front bucket seats as her son struck.

A dreadful cry filled the car. Bennett began to wail. Lydia glanced at the body slumped beside her, separating her from Bennett.

“Mommy, get up! I know you can if you try.”

Lydia moaned as Denise’s arm fell against her. She feared the woman was dead, but she was afraid to stop driving. Bennett would kill her once she stopped. Her foot felt glued to the gas pedal as she pumped harder and harder. She shot through a red light. A siren sounded in the distance. Lydia turned her head, past the hump that was Bennett rubbing his mother’s back, and saw red lights flashing.

The police!

She drew in a jagged breath as she lifted her foot from the accelerator and eased over to the side of the road.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lydia and Sol stepped out into the evening air. She locked her front door and offered him a half smile.

“Are you sure you’re up to a dinner party?” he asked.

“Of course I am!” she said with more enthusiasm than she felt. “It’s been almost three weeks since that ride from hell.”

Because his hands were laden with packages, he gestured at the garage with his chin. “Have you driven your new car yet?”

“No, but I’m driving to the library tomorrow. Barbara said she’ll come with me.”

“Good idea.”

She squeezed his arm. “Thanks for not pointing out this was the second time a car of mine was involved in a murder.”

He bent over to kiss her temple. “Not your fault.”

They’d walked five yards when Lydia suddenly stopped. “Oh, my God, I forgot the wine!”

“One bottle of chardonnay,” Sol said, holding it up.

She glanced down at the plastic bag in her hand. “I have the strawberries.”

“I’ve got the ice cream. One gallon of chocolate peanut butter.”

“And freshly whipped cream,” Lydia said as they crossed the road. “Evelyn’s going to kill us when she sees everything we’re bringing. She called twice this afternoon to say she has everything under control.”

Sol gave her a pained look. “Lydia, I wish you wouldn’t use that expression.”

“‘Under control?’” she asked in feigned innocence as they started up Evelyn’s driveway.

“I mean ‘going to kill us.’”

Lydia pressed the bell. “What’s the problem? Daniel’s murderer’s in custody. Everything’s under control.” She cast him a dirty look. “For real this time.”

Sol groaned. “I said another drug dealer killed Stefano. That much was true.”

“You also insisted you were satisfied that Stefano killed Daniel. Case closed.”

He sighed, exasperated. “For the fourth time, I admit that I lied. I couldn’t let you in on the fact that we were closing in on Bennett, now could I?”

“Sorry,” she whispered, and reached up to kiss his cheek. She didn’t mean to be argumentative tonight, the first time Sol would be attending a party with her friends.

Evelyn greeted them in a chef’s apron. She kissed them both then started to scold. “Why did you bring all this? I’ve enough food for an army.”

Lydia followed her into the kitchen, drinking in the aroma of baked chicken and mushrooms. Evelyn stored the whipped cream, wine, and strawberries in the refrigerator and the ice cream in the freezer. Then she turned to give Lydia her full attention.

“How are you, my dear?”

Feeling Evelyn’s keen eyes studying her, Lydia opted for the truth.

“I’m okay most of the time, though I get these bouts of nerves. The worst is when I wake up in the middle of the night, my heart pounding so hard I’m afraid it will burst out of my chest.”

Evelyn rubbed her arm. “It will pass.”

“The table looks lovely,” Lydia said, admiring the fine china and crystal settings in the dining room.

“We’ll be nine,” Evelyn said. “Polly and Matt might stop by for dessert.”

“How’s Nicky doing?” Lydia asked.

“She’s alert and beginning to speak. Asking lots of questions, which the doctor says is a good sign.”

“Thank God! I was so afraid he’d succeeded.”

“I know. Good thing the nurse heard the scuffle and came in immediately to reconnect the tubes.”

“And had the sense to dial 911.” Suddenly dizzy, Lydia leaned against the wall. She was grateful when Sol appeared and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, but didn’t resist when he walked her into the living room, where he set her down on the sofa as carefully as if she were a porcelain doll.
I’m fine.
She took a deep breath as she sank back against the cushion. Her harrowing ride with Bennett had knocked the stuffing out of her, and there were moments when she wasn’t quite herself. The doctor said they would pass. She certainly hoped so, as she intended to return to work on Tuesday.

The doorbell rang, and Evelyn went to welcome Ron, Bella, Mick, and his wife. Hearing a woman’s Irish lilt among the voices, it occurred to Lydia that she’d yet to meet Mrs. Diminio.

The sight of Mick in a wheelchair brought the sting of tears to her eyes. She blinked them away as he wheeled toward her, a broad smile on his pale face. Lydia kissed his cheek. Mick gave her the once over.

“You’re feeling better these days.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I am.”

Mick winked. “I must say, Ms. Krause, you look absolutely fetching tonight.” He cast Sol a meaningful glance. “I hope your lad appreciates all of your attributes.”

“Let’s say I appreciate most of them,” Sol said.

Mick reached out, and his wife took his hand. She was petite and birdlike, with white hair and bright blue eyes that lit up her face. “This is my Caitlin,” he said. “Caitlin, meet Lydia and her swain, Sol Molina. Detective Lieutenant Molina.”

Caitlin offered Lydia an impish smile. “I finally get to meet Mick’s Wonder Woman.”

Wonder Woman! Lydia blushed at the compliment as Caitlin extended her hand to Sol. “And it’s a pleasure meeting you, too, lieutenant.”

“My pleasure,” Sol said.

He and Caitlin drifted away as Ron approached. He patted Mick’s back and enveloped Lydia in a hug, then sat down beside her.

“Feeling better?”

“Much.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Lydia glanced from Ron to Mick. They were bursting with news. “Okay. Spill it.”

Mick said, “Tell her, Ronnie.”

Ron cleared his throat. “Mick and I took a ride down to the police station and told them our tale. We got a tongue lashing, and then the captain disappeared. He was gone for a good half an hour. We were worried. Pictured ourselves behind bars. But it looks like we’re getting off.”

“With a slap on the wrist,” Mick said. “For the sake of a dying legislator.”

“An eighty-five-year-old legislator who served his county well,” Ron added, not missing a beat.

Mick wanted no sympathy, and not turning soppy was the least Lydia could do for her friend. “Does Sol know?”

“Of course,” Ron said. “We had our little chat three days ago. Station house news spreads even faster than it does in Twin Lakes.”

“Sol never mentioned it,” Lydia murmured.

“Better that he doesn’t,” Mick offered. “And don’t bring it up, or he might ask some questions you won’t care to answer.”

The doorbell rang. Ron turned around and whispered, “It’s Allen and Rochelle.”

Mick tugged her arm. Lydia leaned toward him so he could whisper in her ear. “Turns out he didn’t kill his boss. The police figured it was the guy’s estranged wife and her boyfriend who did the deed, but they didn’t have enough evidence to go to trial.”

“I’m glad Allen didn’t do it,” she whispered back. “Or Rochelle.”

As though by tacit agreement, they separated and moved in three different directions as the others came into the living room. Lydia greeted Bella, Allen, and Rochelle, then linked arms with Sol.

“Your debriefing session finished?” he asked as he kissed her cheek.

She nodded, feeling her ears burn.
He knows everything, and has chosen to be amused instead of angry.

Evelyn called them to the dining room, and they took their places around the elegantly set table. There was little conversation as her guests served themselves from the two enormous salad bowls and proceeded to eat their first course.

Rochelle turned to Sol. “Did you know all along that Bennett was the person you were after?”

Lydia cringed. She’d brought Sol into a social situation where people felt free to ask him about the murders, but he seemed unperturbed by the question.

“We had our suspicions from the start. Bennett had a record for dealing drugs. At work, he had access to legal drugs.”

“Did he kill Stefano for dating his mother?” Mick asked.

“We can’t factor that out. Denise and Bennett had one weird relationship. Also, we figured Stefano was killed by the guy he worked for, and that turned out to be Bennett.” Sol looked at Lydia. “Bennett took Stefano’s red pickup truck the morning you drove Evelyn to the airport. It was his way of showing Stefano that he could have him thrown in jail if he wanted, and he’d better stop stealing from him. Stefano ignored the warning, so Bennett killed him.”

Evelyn sighed. “It would have pained Daniel so to know the depth of his grandson’s depravity.”

For a moment, silence reigned. Determined to change the subject, Lydia said, “I’ve a bit of news I’d like to share with you.” She waited until everyone’s attention was focused on her, then said, “I’ve decided to take the position of executive manager of the Carrington House Suites.”

Cries of congratulations filled the room. Ron raised his glass.

“To Lydia. A woman of the twenty-first century.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Sol seconded, and downed the rest of his wine.

Later, as they walked back to her place, Sol asked, “Does this mean you’ll be working nine to five, five days a week?”