CHAPTER 28
Lizzy and Hayley sat in the family room, both on their laptops. Lizzy tried to distract herself from the note she’d found earlier, but it wasn’t easy. Who was this man who was so damned determined to track her every move? What did the note mean? It definitely wasn’t Jared’s handwriting. Besides, Jared could spell. The guy wanted to throw Jared into the mix, it seemed. Just another asshole trying to screw with her. OK, it’s on. Bring it.
She wasn’t ready to share the note with anyone, so she concentrated on the Ambassador Club list that Melony Reed had given her: Stephen White had died from an explosion after the barbecue blew up—gunpowder and nitroglycerine. According to the reports she’d read, three others had died of possible heart attacks: Debi Murray before her car went off the road, Rachel Elliott before falling on punji sticks, and then Gavin Murdock at a family barbecue. It wasn’t often that a thirty-year-old person, let alone three, dropped dead from heart failure. Lizzy had called the coroner’s office, and as far as they could tell, no autopsy or toxicology reports were ordered for any of them. The families of these victims had accepted the causes of death and that was that. Lizzy intended to talk to family members to see if lab testing had been ordered. Melony had insisted that Rachel was healthier than most. Lizzy made a note to call the family doctor and see if she could learn more about Rachel’s death. Accidents caused by punji sticks and falling on knives in the dishwasher were too far out there. It didn’t add up.
The front door opened and closed. “I’m starved,” Kitally said, “and I’m going crazy. I’ve been sitting in my car every day for weeks. I feel like a caged animal.”
“Did you get more pictures of Mr. Chalkor?” Hayley asked without looking up from her computer. “The insurance company called today. They’re getting antsy.”
Kitally plunked her bag on the dining room table. “Mr. Chalkor is onto me. He called me out the other day when I followed him to a park, and now he hasn’t come out of his house in days. I’ve been parking in new spots every day, but I think maybe I’ll have to drive a different car.”
“If you don’t get pictures by the end of the week, we might need to change tactics.”
“Who made these cookies?” Kitally asked from the kitchen.
“Your neighbor brought those about an hour ago,” Hayley said. “She told me that she hadn’t brought you cookies in a very long time.”
“Really?” Kitally asked. “What neighbor?”
“A perky brunette with a seventies hairdo and vintage eyeglasses. I thought she seemed a bit off, but who am I to judge fashion?”
“True that,” Kitally said. “But that’s really strange, though. I don’t remember anyone ever bringing me cookies before.” Kitally went to the cupboard to get a glass.
An uneasy tingling rippled through Lizzy as she mulled over each of the victims’ causes of death once again. Three of the deaths were being attributed to heart attacks. Were these people being poisoned in some way? If so, the killer might know more than a little about toxic chemicals and/or poisons. Lizzy suddenly recalled the woman who had called her today at the office. God, how had she forgotten about her? She’d sounded annoyed when she thought Lizzy wasn’t taking her seriously enough. She’d wanted to proposition Lizzy—said they were on the same team.
Lizzy jumped from her chair and ran to the kitchen, bumping into a table on her way.
Kitally had poured herself a glass of milk. A cookie was inches from her lips.
Lizzy slapped the cookie out of Kitally’s hand, sending it flying across the room. The cookie hit the pantry door and broke into pieces.
“What are you doing?” Kitally asked.
“Don’t touch those cookies.”
“Lizzy,” Hayley said. “What’s going on?”
“Somebody is trying to kill us,” Lizzy announced. “All of us.”
“Who?”
“A woman—a crazy bitch.”
Lizzy took the plate of cookies and tossed them into the garbage. She was about to hit the trash compactor button but stopped herself. “Don’t be a dumbass, Lizzy!”
Kitally looked at Hayley, eyes wide.
Lizzy started opening drawers and pulled out a pair of metal tongs that she then used to reach into the trash and pull out more than one cookie. She slid them into a plastic Ziploc bag. “I really do need to get my act together.”
Hayley exhaled. “Lizzy, you’re talking to yourself.”
Lizzy shrugged. “Got a problem with that?”
“Yeah, I sort of do. Why don’t you tell us what’s going on. You’re talking crazy talk.”
Lizzy held up the bag. “I’m going to have these tested. Is that all right with you?”
Nobody said a word.
“Wash your hands,” Lizzy told Kitally. “Scrub them good.” She turned to Hayley. “I’m taking these to the lab first thing in the morning.”
“Could you stop for one moment and tell us exactly what’s going on?”
“I thought I just did.”
“You’re mumbling—talking to yourself. You need to slow down and take a minute to gather your thoughts.”
Lizzy knew Hayley was right. She took a steadying breath. She needed to settle down. “Let’s have a seat in the living room,” she said, “and I’ll answer all of your questions.”
Lizzy started from the beginning. She told them all about her meeting with Melony Reed and how days later the woman was dead, a freak accident in her kitchen. Next, she showed them the lists of names Melony had given her: the list of Ambassador Club members who were dropping like flies, and the list of all the people Melony thought had gotten the worst of the Ambassador Club’s abuse, the ones she thought might be capable of revenge. Lizzy also recounted her visit with Dean Newman’s girlfriend.
“How many members of the Ambassador Club are still alive?” Hayley asked.
“According to Melony, there were a total of thirteen members. Two live out of the country, Louise Penderfor and Claire Moss, so I crossed them off the list. That leaves four, not including Dean Newman, who could still be alive.”
“How long has this Newman dude been missing?”
“Three or four days, I believe.”
Hayley looked over the list. “So you believe the same woman who killed these people is also trying to kill us?”
“Yes.”
“Why would she want to kill us?” Kitally cut in. “We didn’t bully her.”
“When I was at the office today,” Lizzy said, “a woman called—said she wanted to make some sort of deal. She knew I had paid Melony Reed and Dean Newman’s girlfriend a visit. At first I thought it was just another prank caller. I asked her—or maybe I accused her, I can’t remember—of being just another crazy out there who wanted some attention.”
“Then what?” Kitally asked.
“As I waited for her to make her case, I glanced out the window, saw the same man who we all saw in this very yard standing outside the coffee shop across the street. I ran after him.”
“What about the caller?”
“I dropped the phone and took off. Of course, by the time I returned, she’d hung up. I’m pretty sure I pissed her off pretty good.”
“Poison cookies,” Kitally said. “Yeah, I’d say you might have hit a nerve.”
Hayley stretched her neck as though working kinks out of it, clearly uncomfortable with Lizzy going after the big guy. Again.
“I’m afraid to ask,” Kitally said. “Did you catch up to the man you went after?”
“Yeah, I did. Twice. The second time, he kicked a man in the nose and took off, leaving me in the dust.”
“Did you get a look at him?”
“No, I mean yes. I got some crappy pictures of him. He’s tall, broad-shouldered. He wore jeans, an ugly plaid shirt, dark glasses, and a hat.”
“Bummer.”
“If those cookies really do turn out to be poisonous,” Kitally said, thinking out loud, “that would mean this female killer of yours thinks you’re getting too close for comfort. Since you weren’t willing to listen to her, she decided you had to go, too.”
Lizzy nodded.
“If we assume Dean Newman is a goner,” Hayley added, “that would mean there are four people left on her list—Mindy Graft, Aubrey Singleton, Chelsea Webster, and Gary Perdue.” Hayley held up both lists. “On the other list Melony gave you—the list of people Melony believed could be seeking revenge—we have ten possibilities. Where are you going to put your efforts? Warning the four people left on the Ambassador Club list, or going after the person who may be responsible?”
“We have to warn the four people who could be in danger,” Lizzy said.
“I think we need more help,” Kitally said.
“From who?” Hayley asked. “The police?”
“I’ve already talked to Detective Chase,” Lizzy said. “He was quick to believe the deaths were all accidental. I can’t really blame him, since not one family of the deceased has yet to question the cause of death.”
“It’s up to a victim’s family to ask for an investigation?” Kitally asked.
Lizzy shrugged. “Often the case. If nobody raises a stink, the cops tend to naturally head off for the next crime they know is a crime.”
Kitally shook her head. “These people must have been real assholes if their families didn’t care enough to at least check it out.”
Hayley nodded. “It’s not easy to get a family to agree to an autopsy, either. They’re already grieving from loss and then there are costs involved and a long wait for the results, which could delay the funeral arrangements.”
Kitally shook her head. “This woman is literally getting away with murder.”
“If she’s using poison to make it appear as if these people are dying of heart attacks,” Hayley went on, “that would mean that the killer probably has some degree of knowledge in that field.”
“True,” Kitally said. “The killer could be using cyanide, rat poison, or antifreeze. Even a large dose of potassium would do the trick. Maybe we could narrow the list of ten by figuring out who has a background in medicine or chemistry.”
“I would like the two of you to concentrate on warning the last four people,” Lizzy said. “Not only is this woman dangerous; she’s working fast. She’s not afraid to take risks, which is why I want you two to stick together. I’ll concentrate on whittling down the list of suspects.”
“Sounds good,” Kitally said as she stood, then looked vacantly around the kitchen. “I really am hungry.” She turned to Hayley. “Did the neighbor leave anything else for us to eat?”
“Just the cookies,” Hayley said. “Although I wouldn’t touch that casserole I saw in the refrigerator.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Lizzy said. “It’s delicious.”
“What is it?”
“Tofu casserole.”
Hayley shrugged. “You’ve been warned.”
“Are you saying I would be better off trying one of those cookies?”
“Absolutely.”
“This is serious business,” Lizzy reminded them.
“I’m sorry,” Kitally said. “You’re right.”
Hayley looked at Kitally. “What did I tell you about always saying you’re sorry?”
“I can’t help it,” she said. “Sorry.”
“What’s wrong with her saying she’s sorry?”
“It’s demeaning,” Hayley told them. “Do you ever hear men apologize after a waiter screws up their order? No. Kitally needs to save the I’m sorrys for when it really matters. If someone knocks into her, she apologizes.”
“A lot of women do that,” Lizzy said with another shrug. “It’s a nurturing thing.”
“I don’t care about other women. I care about Kitally.”
“Well, that’s nice of you to—”
“You have an auto-apology problem,” Hayley interrupted Kitally. “So knock it off.”
Kitally almost apologized again but stopped herself.
“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” Lizzy said.
“Apologizing for things that aren’t your fault is degrading and shows low self-esteem. It’s stupid.”
Lizzy shook her head. “I think you’re fine, Kitally, really.”
“That’s because Lizzy doesn’t know which way is up right now. Her head isn’t screwed on right.”
Lizzy stiffened. “Who are you suddenly—the fucking Queen of Know-It-All?”
Kitally put two fingers to her mouth and sliced the room with an ear-piercing whistle. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but somebody needed to shut you two up. You’re both insane. It’s late. I’m hungry. And I think we should call it a night.”