When Day Breaks (26 page)

E
liza stood with Rowena Quincy next to the unicorn’s display case while photographers and videographers took pictures.

“Let’s get a few shots with Lauren in there, too,” said Linus as he nudged her forward.

The women posed behind the case, looking down at the unicorn.

“Look at how that emerald eye sparkles,” said Lauren.

“Fabulous,” said Eliza. “The lighting is trained on it just perfectly.”

“That thing sparkles even in the dark, but you have to watch out for that crown—those points are deadly,” said Lauren. She tapped the glass with her finger. “It looks like it should be safe this time,” she said.

When the flashbulbs had ceased popping, Eliza turned to Rowena. “I’m going to be leaving soon,” she said.

“Thank you so much for helping us,” said Rowena. “You saved our evening.”

“My pleasure,” said Eliza. “Truly.”

B
.J. stared at the screen studying Ursula’s poem until he remembered the exercise he’d done in second grade as a Mother’s Day gift. His mom still had it in a little frame in her kitchen.

 

Makes me happy.

Outstanding cook.

Tucks me in.

Hugs and kisses.

Excellent helper.

Really nice.

 

Now B.J. understood that Ursula Bales had done more than tell the world she’d been a witness to murder. She had also revealed who the murderer was.

He pulled out his cell phone and called Annabelle.

E
liza tried to leave the reception, but she was stopped along the way by many guests wanting to have just a few words with her. Stuart Whitaker was one of them. On his face was a blissful smile.

“Miss Blake,” he said excitedly. “I have the most exciting news. Mrs. Hansen has agreed to have Constance’s ashes rest in the memorial garden. Is that not wonderful news?”

Eliza tried to summon up polite enthusiasm. “You must be very pleased,” she said.

“I am over the moon,” said Stuart. “I want all the world to know about it. I thought you might be able to help me with that.”

“In what way?” asked Eliza.

“Put it on the news, of course,” said Stuart.

“I’m afraid it’s not enough to do a whole story on the
Evening Headlines,
” Eliza explained. “But I’m sure the information will make its way on air at some point as part of a bigger story.”

Stuart’s face fell.

“Tell you what,” said Eliza. “
KEY to America
is doing their broadcast from here tomorrow morning. Why don’t we find Linus Nazareth, the executive producer, and see if he has any interest?”

A
nnabelle went in to check on the twins. They were sleeping soundly. She tucked the blanket around Tara and stuck Thomas’s foot back under the covers. Then she returned to the desk in the living room to study the poem again. She looked at it for a while but came up with no new revelation.

Beyond the fact that Ursula had witnessed a murder, what else could have contributed to her being as terror-filled as Margo Gonzalez claimed she appeared in the video? Annabelle wondered.

She thought back to that afternoon. B.J. had miked Ursula and pointed the camera to shoot the pictures. Lauren had held out the microphone and asked the questions. Annabelle herself had stood to the side, out of camera range, taking notes.

Ursula would have no reason to be afraid of any of us,
Annabelle thought.

On impulse she went to the computer and did another Google search. When the name was entered, hundreds of hits appeared on the search results page. Annabelle narrowed the search by adding the word “death.” She was engrossed in what she was reading when B.J. called.

“You aren’t going to believe this,” he said.

“Oh, yes, I will,” said Annabelle.

E
liza found Linus and introduced him to Stuart Whitaker. Then she explained that it had just been decided that Constance Young’s ashes would be kept at the Cloisters.

“Do you have any interest in talking with Mr. Whitaker about it?” asked Eliza.

The executive producer considered the offer. “All right,” said Linus. “That sounds like something we can use on the show in the morning. Lauren could take a little walk around the grounds, showing where the memorial garden would be built.” Linus turned to Stuart. “Would you be able to come back up here in the morning and have Lauren interview you?”

Stuart bit his bottom lip. “Oh, I am afraid that will be problematic,” he said. “I have to go out of town early in the morning. Is there any possibility we can do the interview tonight?”

“I suppose so,” said Linus. “Let me check with Lauren first.”

Linus walked over to confer with the
KTA
cohost. “Fine,” he said when he came back, accompanied by Lauren. “I’ll leave you all to it. I’m going home. I have to be back here way too early tomorrow.”

“But how will I get home if you take the car?” asked Lauren.

Linus said nothing.

“Look,” said Eliza. “I’m going to be here for a little while. I really should talk to some more of these people. If you can do the interview with Stuart right away, I’ll drop you off on my way home.”

A
nd listen to this,” said Annabelle. Over the phone she read the short article aloud to B.J.

“It’s an article from the
Louisville Courier-Journal,
” said Annabelle. “’Lauren Lee Adams of Frankfort was named Miss Kentucky Reel at a ceremony in Louisville. Ms. Adams, who originally was first runner-up in the pageant, takes the place of Missy Goodwin. Ms. Goodwin died last month.’ And get this, B.J.: ’At autopsy, sodium pentobarbital was found in Ms. Goodwin’s system.’ That’s the same substance that killed Vinny Shays, the animal-shelter worker.”

B.J. was about to respond, but Annabelle interrupted him.

“Hang up, B.J. I have to call Eliza.”

B
y the time Eliza finished speaking to all the people who’d lined up to talk to her, the crowd had thinned out considerably. She pulled her cell phone from her evening purse and called home.

“Janie is sound asleep,” said Mrs. Garcia. “Everything is fine here.”

“That’s great,” said Eliza. “I should be home in about an hour, maybe a little more. I have someone to drop off downtown first.”

As she went to close the phone, Eliza noticed she had some messages. She would check them as soon as she and Lauren were in the car. All she wanted to do now was find Lauren and get going.

She looked around for Lauren, Stuart, and a cameraman, wishing that she’d thought to ask where they were going to do the interview, or that she and Lauren had set up a place to meet. Finally Eliza saw one of the
KTA
production assistants, who told her that she’d seen Lauren outside, walking toward the river with a nerdy-looking guy.

Pulling her wrap around her against the cool night air, Eliza walked out of the Cloisters and turned west. She walked several hundred feet before bumping into Stuart Whitaker.

“All done?” Eliza asked.

“Yes,” Stuart answered, “and I think it went very well. Miss Adams said she very much appreciated that I gave her a personal tour and described for her what the memorial garden will look like. I showed her just where I think Constance’s remains will be kept.”

“I’m so glad you’re happy, Mr. Whitaker,” said Eliza. “Where is Lauren now?”

Stuart indicated over his shoulder. “She wanted to go over something with her cameraman. She’s still back there.”

A
fter repeatedly calling Eliza’s cell phone and getting no response, Annabelle called B.J. back.

“Eliza doesn’t answer,” she said, her voice close to frantic. “She must have turned off the phone. I’ll call 911 and keep trying to reach her.”

“All right,” said B.J. “And I’m going to head up to the Cloisters myself.”

“Should I call Cloisters security?” asked Annabelle.

“It couldn’t hurt,” he said as he sprinted out of the editing room.

W
ow. It’s beautiful up here,” said Eliza as she stood at the top of the cliff, looking south at the George Washington Bridge and the lights of Manhattan.

“Not a bad place to spend eternity, huh?” asked Lauren as she joined Eliza in admiring the view. “I’ve always been a sucker for a sparkling skyline.”

The two women stood together, gazing out over the Hudson below, enjoying the magnificence, but feeling the cool night breeze blowing off the river.

“Ready to go?” Eliza finally asked.

“Just about,” said Lauren. “But would you mind terribly if I paced out the area that I’ll be showing the audience in the morning one more time? I know you want to get going, but I’d feel more secure if I do it now, and then I’ll be able to sleep better tonight.”

“I remember what it was like doing your shift,” said Eliza, trying to be understanding though wanting to leave in the worst way. “It was so hard to get a good night’s sleep. Go ahead.”

“Thanks so much, Eliza,” said Lauren. She turned to the cameraman, who was packing up his lighting gear. “It’s all right, Bob,” said Lauren. “You can leave now.”

T
he Cloisters security guards combed the museum looking for Eliza Blake.

“She left a while ago,” Rowena Quincy said after one of the guards informed her of the distressed call from Annabelle Murphy. “Let’s check outside.”

Rowena and the guards hurried out to the front of the building. A dark blue sedan was waiting at the door. Rowena signaled for the driver to roll down his window.

“Have you seen Eliza Blake?” Rowena asked hurriedly. “About five foot seven, brown hair, pretty. She was wearing a light-colored chiffon dress?”

“You don’t have to describe her for me, ma’am,” said the driver. “She’s my boss. But I haven’t seen her yet. I just got here to pick her up.”

T
he skirt of Eliza’s dress rustled in the evening breeze as she waited. Under the spotlights Lauren practiced how she was going to walk and what she was going to say when the camera followed her around the site of the memorial park in the morning. Eliza had to give it to Lauren. The new cohost of
KEY to America
didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

Finally Lauren was satisfied. She walked over to Eliza.

“Okay. Ready now,” Lauren said. She bent down to pick up her purse from the ground. As she stood up again, a gust of river air blew her hair in her face. Lauren raised her arm and brushed back the errant hair with the back of her hand. On the pale skin of Lauren’s palm, Eliza noticed the five angry-looking cuts.

“Those are just like the scratches that Cons—” Eliza stopped herself as she looked into the killer’s eyes.

T
he car sped up the West Side Highway. B.J. wove in and out of the relatively sparse traffic. Once under the George Washington Bridge, he started looking for the exit for Fort Tryon Park and the Cloisters.

As he steered the car off the highway and began the climb up the steep drive to the Cloisters grounds, he passed a few cars coming out. But when he rounded the turn that led to the museum, he could see the flashing lights of police cars up ahead.

L
auren looked down at the wounds on her open palm.

“You don’t know how sorry I am that you saw this,” she said.

“My God, Lauren,” said Eliza, aghast. “What have you done?”

“You’re our illustrious KEY News anchor,” said Lauren. “You figure it out.”

“You killed Constance. You took the unicorn, and you planted it on Boyd,” Eliza said, incredulous and slightly dazed as her mind began to put the pieces together. “Why? Why ever would you do it?”

“Constance was my competition,” said Lauren.

“You’re not serious,” said Eliza.

“Oh, yes, I am,” said Lauren. “I’m
very
serious. If Constance actually went over to
Daybreak,
do you think anyone would watch me? Our ratings were poised to plummet. And I would be blamed. And replaced.”

“I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” said Eliza.

“My career and reputation are everything to me, Eliza.”

“Well, your career and reputation are going to be worth absolutely nothing now,” said Eliza.

Lauren opened her purse. Eliza backed away as she pulled out a syringe.

“You are crazy, absolutely crazy, Lauren.”

“It won’t hurt too much, if you stay calm, Eliza,” said Lauren, edging closer. “I’ve watched many animals put down, and as long as you keep them calm, the end comes pretty peacefully.”

Eliza considered her options. Her back was to the cliff. She considered running forward, but to get past Lauren she would have to run close enough to be jabbed by the needle.

“So you killed the poor guy who worked in the animal shelter,” Eliza said, buying time, trying to come up with a plan.

Lauren didn’t answer.

“And Ursula Bales?”

“They got in the way, Eliza. They could have identified me.” Lauren stepped closer, causing Eliza to back up farther, trying to calculate how many more feet there were behind her before the ground dropped off.

“Lauren, put that needle down,” Eliza pleaded. “Please, Lauren. We can get you help.”

Lauren laughed. “I don’t need any help. Things are still going to work out just fine.”

“If you kill me, Lauren, everyone will know you did it. My driver is waiting for me by now, the camera guy knows he left us up here alone—even Stuart Whitaker knows I was on the way to find you.”

“I’ll figure something out. I’m an awfully good liar,” said Lauren. “I’ll tell them you slipped and fell off the cliff. It was all a terrible accident. A terrible, terrible accident.” Lauren’s lips curled in a sarcastic smile. “Just think what those ratings will be tomorrow morning.”