Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 04 - Chocolate Mousse Attack (16 page)

A few minutes later Fred pulled up in his drive. Rickie immediately slid out of the back seat and ran toward my house. I made no move to open my door and get out. “What now?” I asked.

Fred kept his gaze straight ahead, didn’t look at me. “Sophie’s probably home. I want you to get her out of that house. Take her to your house and
both of you stay there until I get back. She’s probably going to need to spend the night with you.”

Sounded like the situation was getting critical. “And where are you going?”

“Over to have a chat with Daniel Jamison. It’s time to get that confession.”

I had no intention of being left out of that. “You’re going by yourself?”

He looked at me and grinned. “I think I’ll be all right alone.”

I snatched the keys from his ignition. “No, you won’t. I’m going with you.”

His grin changed to a smirk. “You have a child to take care of.”

“
Since Sophie’s going to be at my house anyway, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to babysit.”

We had a staring contest for a couple of minutes. I won, of course. Fred may hold the record
s in secretiveness, karate kicks and all sorts of other things I don’t even know about, but when it comes to obstinacy, that’s my specialty.

He let out a long sigh. “I’ll call Sophie.
You change clothes. Meet me back here as soon as she gets to your house.”

“Okay.” I opened my door and climbed out.

“Uh, keys?”

I removed the house key from his ring and handed it to him.
“You won’t need the rest until it’s time for us to leave.” I smiled and headed toward my house.

“Call Trent back,” he shouted after me. 

It didn’t take psychic ability for him to know Trent had called me. Fred knew what his ringtone was. But it was interesting that he’d taken note of it during all the activity going on at the time. He doesn’t miss much.

The pizza delivery man pulled up
just as I reached my porch where Rickie waited. I unlocked the door and let him inside while I paid for the pizza. Henry was nowhere in sight. He’d probably left his post at the front door as soon as Rickie came up the steps. But he’d be waiting by his food bowl.

By the time I made it inside, Rickie was sitting on the sofa with a Coke and the TV blaring.
Sometimes consistency is overrated.

He followed me to the kitchen where I opened the pizza box and put two slices on a plate then handed it to him.

Henry crouched under the table, looking grumpy. I poured some dry food into his bowl and took a slice of pizza for myself, then turned and grabbed the back of Rickie’s shirt with my other hand as he headed toward the living room.

“Eat in here, please.” I figured I had a fifty-fifty chance he’d do as I asked. “Sophie’s coming over.” He tried to shrug off my hand. “Fred wants you to take care of her this evening. Watch over her. Guard her from danger.”

He ceased trying to escape and nodded solemnly. “I can do that.”

Wow! I’d found a way to manipulate him.

I dashed upstairs, eating pizza as I went, trying to avoid tripping on the ugly black skirt. I wondered which came first with those people on the farm. Were they grim and unhappy because they wore ugly clothes or did they wear ugly clothes because they were grim and unhappy? In any event, I certainly didn’t blame the ones who’d escaped. Poor Sarah. She went from one sad situation to another. I hoped Fred planned to hurt Dr. Dan. I’d hold him down to make it easier.

I changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt
then went downstairs to find Sophie waiting just inside the front door, her expression solemn. Rickie wasn’t in the living room. I hoped he was in the kitchen eating.

“Fred asked me to come over and take care of the boy,” she said. “He told me to lock all the doors and windows and to let no one inside. What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story. We’ll have a glass of wine and talk when I get back. Be careful. There’s an iron skillet in the kitchen if you need it.”

She looked puzzled. “An iron skillet? Do I need to cook something?”

“No, I wouldn’t cook in that skillet. Never mind. We’ll be back soon. In the meantime, if you see anybody suspicious, call 911.”

“We’ll be fine.”
She didn’t sound all that sure.

The 911 reference reminded me to call Trent. I hit speed dial as I crossed my yard to Fred’s. He was sitting in his car, waiting.

“News about Matthew?” I asked as soon as Trent answered. I didn’t want to give him a chance to ask what I was doing. He gets nervous sometimes when I hang out with Fred. I’d tell him about it afterward, when it would be too late for him to protest.

“When Matthew Graham first came to town twelve years ago, he tried to report his sister missing, but he had no proof he ever had a sister. The officer who took the report wrote him off as a nutcase. We were just getting computerized back then, and his case file fell through the cracks.”

“Matthew wasn’t a nutcase,” I said. “His sister lived and probably died in Fred’s house.”

Chapter Eighteen

Clutching the phone to my ear, I slid into Fred’s passenger seat and handed his keys to him.

“We’ve been for a visit t
o the not-so-funny farm where Dr. Dan and Matthew grew up,” I told Trent.

Fred started the car and we eased down the street. The speed demon I’d ridden with half an hour before was gone.

Trent listened quietly as I told him about the couple from American Gothic and the demon truck that tried to kill us. Actually, he had no choice but to listen quietly as I talked very fast so he didn’t have a chance to interrupt. I heard some background noise that was probably cursing, but it’s never a good idea to give somebody a chance to talk when you know you’re not going to want to hear what they have to say.

Finally I ran out of story.

“You’ve been busy.” Trent sounded a little edgy. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Absolutely. No harm done except to Fred’s car. I was never worried. Fred had it all under control.” Okay,
maybe that wasn’t completely true, but I saw no point in worrying him.

“What are you doing now?” he asked.

“Now? Right now?”

“Right now. This minute. What are you doing?”

I didn’t want to lie, but refraining from telling everything you know is different from lying. “I ordered a pizza for Rickie, and I’m just finishing a piece.” I put the last bit of crust in my mouth and chewed.

“Rickie?
Rickie?
Don’t tell me he’s back!”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that part. The Fergusons brought him over and dumped him. At least they can’t accuse me of kidnapping him this time.” Though I might have to murder him. The system w
ill probably go easier on me for that.

“What are you going to do with him?”

“I don’t know.” I didn’t like thinking about Rickie, but at least it served to divert Trent from my current activities. “Sophie’s at my house and will probably spend the night. Rickie actually seems to like her. Maybe she can keep him from setting off a pipe bomb in my living room.”

The traffic light turned green and the jerk behind us, someone even more impatient than I, leaned on his horn.

“Are you talking on your cell phone and driving again?” Trent asked.

“No,” I replied truthfully. He didn’t ask if I was riding.

“Would you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Before you go off with Fred on any more of these expeditions, would you let me know first? I realize Fred’s very competent, but I’m a cop. I have a badge and a gun. And I’m your boyfriend. I have a personal interest in your safety. I’d like to be around to take care of you.”

Damn. He’d just put me in a tough spot. I didn’t want to make a promise I was already in the process of breaking.

“Ask him to come over and spend the night with you,” Fred said.

I gaped at him in astonishment. “What? Why?”

“Is that Fred?” Trent asked.

“If things go the way I expect them to,” Fred replied, “it won’t hurt to have him there to keep you and Sophie safe. And Rickie.”

“What?” Sophie, Rickie and I needed protection? “Sophie, maybe, but I have an iron skillet and Rickie’s a demon child.”

“It’s never a good thing when you bring up that skillet,” Trent said.

“Trent,” Fred said, speaking loudly, “can you come over and spend the night with Lindsay? Things may get rough.”

“What is he talking about?” Trent asked.

“I have no idea. But I really would like to see you tonight.” There. I’d actually admitted it. I needed him to come over and hold me and tell me everything was going to be all right. I hated to sound needy, but Fred had brought it up. “I have to go now. I’ll call you later and we’ll talk.” I disconnected the call before he had a chance to protest.

I turned to Fred.
“What do you mean, things are going to get rough? You’re going to make Dr. Dan confess and…” I hadn’t thought much beyond that. “You’ll subdue him then we’ll call the cops and have him hauled in, right? So why did you tell Trent to come over?”

“I don’t anticipate that the good doctor will confess immediately. I simply plan to stir him up to the point he’s going to feel the need to kill Sophie.”

He wasn’t smiling. He was serious. “Oh, well, of course. What a great idea.”

“I thought it was.”

My phone began to play
Out of a Blue Clear Sky
. I ignored it.

“I’m being sarcastic!” I said. “Are you out of your mind? He’s already tried to kill her once!”

“But this time she’ll be safe at your house with Trent there to protect her and I’ll be waiting for him at Sophie’s place. It’ll be me he’ll try to kill, and that’s not likely to happen.”

“You’re going to pretend to be Sophie? You don’t think he’ll notice that you’re
, among other things, a guy?”

“I have a long brown wig.”

That was an image I didn’t even want to think about. “How are you going to deal with being a foot taller than her?”

“He hasn’t seen her up close since she was five years old. We need to table this discussion for later. We’re going to be there soon and we haven’t even talked about your role in tonight’s entertainment.”

We were driving through a quiet, opulent area with mature trees, lush green lawns and large homes of indeterminate age, set well back from the street. My mother probably did lunch with half the wives in the area.

“Okay, so who
am I going to be this evening? Dr. Dan has already met me as a moldy expert.”

“It’s not so much who you are as how you’re going to act. You need to attempt to restrain me, keep me from talking to him and saying too much.”

“The Big Mouth of the Midwest is going to try to keep The Enigmatic Man from saying too much? This should be very entertaining.”

“I am extremely angry about the damage to my car.”

“I understand.”

“I am going to express my anger to the doctor and make accusations.”

“Fred, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you don’t do anger convincingly.”

“That’s his house on the corner.
”

A sprawling, ranch-style red brick house with a circle drive. Dr. Dan had come a long way from the farm with chickens in the front yard and
clothes hanging on the line to dry.

Fred drove up and parked. “Showtime.”

He got out of the car and strode boldly to the door. I followed, attempting to match his swagger at first, then wimping out and standing sort of behind him. My mother knew these people. What if she’d showed them pictures of me? Of course, that wasn’t likely. I refused to go to Glamor Shots, and she refused to show her friends pictures of me in blue jeans and bare feet with flour on my face.

He rang the doorbell.

The door opened and the blond woman from the photographs on Dr. Dan’s desk appeared. Except for her hair style, she looked the same as in the pictures when the children were small. Dr. Dan was good at what he did.

“Dr. Fred Sommers to see your husband.”

“I’ll tell him. Would you like to come in?”

“No.”

Mrs. Jamison blinked rapidly. Fred wasn’t following the protocol. She’d invited him into her home and he’d refused.

“I’ll get Daniel.” She turned and
went back into the house, closing the door behind her.

“How to win friends,” I said.

“I’m not trying to make friends. I’m trying to make an enemy.”

“In that case, good job.”

The door opened again and Dr. Dan stood there wearing shorts and a knit shirt. He didn’t appear nearly as impressive as he had sitting behind his desk wearing a white jacket. He did, however, have the haughty look of an important man who’d just been disturbed. “I remember you two. You came to my office about some mold in an old house. I thought we settled all that. What do you want?”

“Judging by what just happened to my car, you already know that
business about the mold was a lie. This woman isn’t a mold expert. She’s a special consultant to the Pleasant Grove Police Department, and I’m somebody you don’t want to mess with. I don’t care about any damn mold. I care about my car.” Fred swept an arm toward his damaged Mercedes. He’d used a swear word. He wasn’t shouting, but his voice was harsh and angry. If he spoke to me that way, I’d cry. “Do you see what happened to my car?” he demanded. “That vehicle managed to stay in perfect condition for over thirty years and now look at it. It’ll never be the same.”

Dr. Jamison tried to maintain his haughty look, but fear was rapidly
encroaching. “What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything to your car.”

Fred folded his arms and looked formidable. “Of course you didn’t do it yourself. You hired somebody. You wouldn’t want to get those country club hands dirty like in the old days when you lived on a farm and wore homemade clothes and had goats
and chickens in your yard.”

I didn’t recall seeing any goats, but that one
seemed to hit home anyway. Dr. Dan drew himself up to his full height which was still a couple of inches shorter than Fred. “You need to leave.” He turned as if to go back inside the house.

“I got the license number. That truck’s registered to Kenneth Murdock, a known drug dealer who’s skated on three arrests.”

Dr. Dan hesitated.

Fred jabbed me with his elbow. I’d been so fascinated with this unknown side of him, I’d forgotten my role.

I grabbed his arm. “Dr. Sommers, we need to leave.”

“I’m betting I’ll find out your brother is Kenneth Murdock’s lawyer. Did you get him to do a family favor? Does your brother know what you did?”

Dr. Dan turned back toward us, his face pale, his nostrils pinched, his eyes bulging. “If you don’t leave immediately, I’m going to call the police.”

I tugged at Fred’s arm. “Dr. Sommers, let’s go.”

He yanked his arm away from me. “Why don’t you do that, Jamison? Why don’t you call the police? They’re going to be calling on you soon enough. I don’t know if you were trying to scare me or kill me, but stopping me isn’t going to keep you out of prison. Sophie goes in tomorrow to look at pictures. She’ll identify you as Carolyn’s killer, as the man who said
I’m sorry
after he murdered his daughter and the woman who loved him.”

Clever,
I thought. Tell the man the one small detail then let him assume she remembered the rest.

I would have sworn Dr. Dan couldn’t get any paler, but he did. Even with my redhead’s skin, I probably looked like George Hamilton in comparison. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out.

“What’s your wife going to say when she finds out about Sarah and the money you gave her parents to keep their mouths shut? Or does your wife already know? Was she part of it? Was she happy to help you get rid of your mistress and your child?”

“Dr. Sommers,” I protested, again tugging on his arm, “this is police business. You shouldn’t be telling him.”

“Why not? He’ll find out soon enough.” He got closer, almost nose to nose with Jamison. “I found blood in my floorboards, blood from your daughter. Sophie’s testimony will be enough to get a warrant to compel you to give your DNA. We’re going to prove that Carolyn was your daughter, that she and Sarah existed and that you killed them. You’re going down for a lot more than hiring someone to damage my car.”

“Oh, Dr. Sommers, what have you done? He’ll run away and hide and we’ll never be able to convict him.” Yes, it was pretty corny, but I didn’t have a lot of time to write and rehearse my lines.

He shrugged off my arm. “He can’t hide. I’ll find him wherever he goes. It’s bad enough you killed your own daughter and her mother, but now you’ve messed with my car.” He pointed a finger at Dr. Dan who flinched as if Fred had hit him. “You’re going down. You’re going down all the way.” Fred turned and strode back to his car.

I followed.

As we pulled slowly away from the red brick ranch, Dr. Dan stood on his front porch watching us. Even in the fading light of the afternoon, I fancied I could see the sheen of sweat on his face.

Fred, on the other hand, was calm and unhurried as always.

“I think you wound him up pretty good,” I said. “That was impressive.”

“It’s o
ur best chance since everything we have is circumstantial. Now we wait for him to go after Sophie. If he doesn’t confess, we may never get him for murdering Carolyn and Sarah, but we should be able to get him for Sophie’s attempted murder.”

“You mean the attempted murder of Fred in a wig. That’s really dumb, you know. Let me wear the wig, put on some makeup and we’ll have a lot better chance.”

He shook his head. “Baiting a murderer is dangerous.”

I snorted derisively. At least, I hoped it was derisive and not just disgusting.
“When Paula’s crazy ex-husband was determined to kill me I got a confession out of him and I’m still alive.” But it had been close. That was the first time I’d seen Fred in action. “If things get dicey, you can charge in at the last minute and take him down the same way you took down David. Though I wouldn’t mind if you made it the next to last minute instead of the last minute.”