“Give me the keys, Lila.” Her voice was tight, her teeth clenched as she spoke. “I need those keys.”
“You must have seen a text from Detective Griffiths on my phone,” I surmised. She didn’t reply but simply bobbed her head, her eyes still locked on the keys. “So you know it’s only a matter of time before your part in all this comes out.”
“Just give me the keys.” She was begging now.
I was hoping to stall her, just until the police arrived. Where are they anyway? I dangled the keys. “Just answer a couple of questions first. How long have you really known Dr. Meyers?”
“Awhile,” she answered, every muscle in her body tense and coiled like a snake ready to strike. “She contacted me last spring. Her daughter, Amanda, was dating Chuck. She was worried about her and looked into his background and found our divorce records.”
“And she asked you to help her plan Chuck’s murder?”
Lynn’s expression loosened a bit. She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t like that. At first we just talked. I told her about my writing and I found out she was a writer, too. Can you believe that?”
I nodded.
“And she thought my book was good. She helped me do some editing and then convinced me to submit it to you.”
“She told you about our agency?” Had Dr. Meyers actually set this plan in place that long ago? Found just the right person to help her? Someone who could easily be convinced to follow along with her twisted plan? After all, Lynn was used to being bullied; it wouldn’t be difficult to manipulate her. And Dr. Meyers, of all people, knew the techniques that bullies used, techniques she clearly exposed in her books to help women out of abusive relationships.
Lynn was still talking. “It was good, you know, to talk to someone who understood what I went through. She helped me. She really did.”
“You mean she was like your counselor?” I’d heard of this type of thing. Counselors who convince their clients to perform illegal acts. “I don’t understand. How exactly did Dr. Meyers talk you into helping her?”
Lynn’s jaw clenched. “I knew exactly what her daughter, Amanda, was going through. Sloan helped me see the truth—that my own abuse wasn’t over just because I’d left him, wouldn’t be, as long as others like Amanda suffered that way, too. Amanda was making the same mistakes I did. Chuck would beat her and she just kept going back to him. Eventually, he’d kill her. I knew he would have. He almost killed me.”
“You really trusted Dr. Meyers, didn’t you?” I heard the slight sound of movement outside the back kitchen window. I hoped it was the police.
“Of course. She’s helped me through so much. I . . . I probably wouldn’t be here, if it weren’t for Sloan.” She lowered her eyes and spoke softly. “I’m ashamed to admit this, but I was thinking of . . . Well, I’d lost all my will to live. Even though I’d divorced Chuck, something inside me had died in the process. Until Sloan came into my life. She saved me, Lila. I know what you must think of her, but you’re wrong. She’s really an amazing person. All the good she does to help women like me. And, well . . .” She looked up, her eyes bright and intense. “All she wanted to do was protect her daughter. You can understand that, can’t you?”
Yes, any mother could understand that instinct, but murder? “So she decided the best way to protect Amanda was to kill Chuck?”
“She’d tried everything else. She even sent Amanda away, but Chuck found her. They were going to get married. Sloan was beside herself with worry. She told me she just needed my help for a couple of little things. How could I say no? She’d helped me with so much.”
“What little things, Lynn? The refrigerator system? Did you sabotage it?”
“No. That was Sloan’s idea. She was going to kill Chuck here, in the pantry, but when I told her about Chuck working part time at the Arts Center, she came up with a different idea. A better idea, she said, because there would be so many people at the Arts Center. More suspects to throw the police off our trail.”
“So she sabotaged the refrigeration system?”
“Yes. She just snuck through the back door. A lot of vendors were using it to set up their booths in the culinary wing. Then she snuck back out and came around the front of the building.”
“And brought the nail gun with her.”
Lynn didn’t answer that question. For a second she seemed almost remorseful. Then her face hardened again and she said, “Chuck deserved what he got. The world is better off without him.”
“No, Lynn. What Chuck did was absolutely wrong. He deserved to rot in jail for it. But no one deserves to be murdered. Maybe he would have changed one day. With the right help . . . I don’t know. Maybe not. But we’ll never know, because he was robbed of the choice. He was robbed of his chance to reform his life. And how ironic that you and Dr. Meyers chose to answer violence with violence.”