Evil Never Dies (The Lizzy Gardner Series Book 6) (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Lizzy had been sitting at her desk inside her office on J Street in Sacramento, doing nothing but listening to the sound of her breath, when the door opened. A wisp of cool air and the smell of coffee and doughnuts followed her sister, Cathy, inside the office.

Her morning was quickly going from bad to worse.

Cathy set a cup of coffee and a white paper bag on the corner of her desk and then pulled the strap of her purse up higher around her shoulder. “Are you here alone?”

Lizzy managed a nod, wishing her sister would go away and not come back some other day.

“You haven’t returned my calls.”

Lizzy said nothing.

Her sister took a seat in the chair facing Lizzy’s desk. “I’m sorry. About everything . . . about Richard and all the ugly things he said to you . . . but mostly I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” Cathy reached out and put a hand on top of Lizzy’s. “Talk to me. Please.”

Lizzy didn’t like seeing her sister in pain, and yet she felt helpless to help her feel any better, afraid to say the wrong thing, afraid that in the end, no matter how hard they both tried to say and do the right thing, they would both be eaten alive by past events and crippling guilt.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Lizzy finally said.

“Why? What do you mean?”

“I’ve done nothing but cause trouble since the day I was born. I’ve left a clear path of destruction: Mom and Dad, you, Brittany, Hayley, Jessica, Kitally, and Jared. If it weren’t for me, Jared would still be alive. Do you have any idea what that man did for me?”

Cathy watched her closely as she waited for her to continue.

“Jared lifted me from the depths of hell. That man asked for nothing in return. He would have been happy to live a nice, quiet, simple life . . . just the two of us. He talked about having kids someday, taking them camping, watching them play sports, a normal everyday life. But when it came to settling down, I fought him—why? What was so important about my work that I couldn’t fathom a simple life?” She looked around the office, held her arms out wide. “Look around you. What do you see? I’m not exactly changing the world, am I? I gave up a beautiful life for this.” She forced air through her nose. “I let Jared die for
this
.”

“Lizzy, it wasn’t your fault. You were both in a dangerous business. You both knew the chances you were taking. And I’m sorry, but this is no time to feel sorry for yourself. If Jared were here now, he would want you to pick yourself up and carry on. You know he would.”

“I think you should go.”

“No. I’m not finished. I know you’re hurting, and I know you don’t want to hear about what Jared would do or not do, but it’s the truth.”

Lizzy fiddled around with the papers in front of her.

“I kicked Richard out of the house,” Cathy blurted.

And there it is
, Lizzy thought.
One tiny step for mankind. One itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny drop of hope amid a lifetime of despair.
She looked up at her sister, away from all the mounds of paperwork and meaningless notes. “I’m glad.”

“I was hoping you might consider moving back into the house with me.”

Lizzy shook her head. “No. You and Brittany need time to yourselves.”

“Brittany will hardly look at me,” Cathy told her.

“All the more reason for you two to spend time alone, without Richard or me to complicate matters. Talk to your daughter,” Lizzy said. “Be honest. Tell her the truth. Brittany deserves to know everything.”

“She keeps asking about you, Lizzy. She wants to see you. Brittany needs to know that you’ll be all right.”

“Not now,” Lizzy said. “Not yet.”

Cathy released a weighty breath. “Brittany was accepted into Sac State. You know how creative she is, and, well, it turns out she’s interested in studying art. She won’t start until the fall, of course, but she’s been invited by the famous artist Ian Berg to take an art class. There will be other artists helping out, but Ian Berg will be overseeing it all.”

“I’ve heard of him. That’s really great. Tell her congratulations.”

Cathy sat there for a moment longer, waiting for something more. Finally, she came to her feet and headed for the door.

“I will call her,” Lizzy said. “I promise.”

“Eat a bagel, Lizzy. You look as if you’re trying to starve yourself to death.”

And that was it. She was gone, leaving Lizzy alone to punish herself with her self-hatred and dark thoughts of the past and future.

For the rest of the day, Lizzy did her best to lose herself in busywork. At three o’clock, an elderly man came through the door with a file tucked under one arm. His walk was slow, his back hunched, his cane trembling as it fought to keep him upright.

Lizzy stood, ready to help.

“Sit down,” he said. “I’ll get there.”

Lizzy did as he said. She folded her hands on top of her desk and then watched him closely, ready to jump up and help him after he fell. But against all odds the old man made it all the way to the chair in front of her desk without any mishap. He took a seat and then tucked his cane between his knees.

“What can I do for you?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Lizzy gave him a smirk.

“I have a job for you and your girls. Are they around?”

“Nope. It’s just you and me. Why don’t you tell me what the problem is?”

“Somebody killed my wife.”

Lizzy released a steadying breath. She hadn’t thought the old man could surprise her, but she’d been wrong. She had no words.

“Aren’t you going to ask me who did it?”

“Who did it?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I intend to find out, and I’m hoping you will help me.”

Lizzy scratched a nonexistent itch on her neck. “Mr. . . .”

“Call me Gus.”

“Gus. How old are you?”

“Why? Do you have some sort of age limitation?”

“No. Never mind. I don’t think I’m the person you should be talking to.”

“The police have swept away my concerns as senility and paranoia. Is that what you’re doing?” He handed Lizzy a thin manila folder that looked as if it had survived two wars. “Don’t just stare at it,” he told her. “Open it up.”

Despite his crotchety tone, she did as he said. A medical report sat on top of the pile of papers. She skimmed through it. “It says here that your wife, Helsie, died of chronic heart failure.”

“Lies.”

Lizzy continued to flip through the pages. “I don’t see anything that even remotely suggests homicide.”

“She told me more than once that friends of hers, perfectly healthy people when they arrived at the nursing home, were dying. In the end, I believe Helsie knew too much about whatever was going on in that place. She said they were asking her a lot of questions, and she was sure they would come after her, too.”

“Who was asking her questions?”

“Staff members at Shady Oaks Nursing Home.”

“According to this report,” Lizzy said, “your wife had dementia.”

“More lies. Told by the doctors hired by Shady Oaks.”

“How long was she there?”

“Two years.”

“If she didn’t have the disease and she was healthy, why would you agree to put her into a nursing home?”

He laid a shaky fist on top of Lizzy’s desk. “Yes, it’s true. Helsie was diagnosed with vascular dementia four years ago.”

Lizzy sighed.

“It’s not what you think. She went for regular checkups, and her doctor was always surprised by how sharp she was. She knew exactly what was happening to her, physically and mentally. Sure, she had difficulty walking down stairs and she tended to burn the chicken every once in a while, but I swear her memory, more often than not, was better than mine. And then, two years ago, out of the blue, Helsie announced that she wanted to go to a nursing home where complete strangers could look after her.” The old man looked down and away. When his gaze met Lizzy’s again, his voice was rough. “I was angry at first. It felt like she was abandoning me, but there was no talking her out of it. Later I came to realize she didn’t want to be a burden to me. She even admitted that sometimes she woke up in our bed and didn’t know who the man was lying next to her.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lizzy could almost see the memories swirling about inside his head, all the memories of the life he once knew. “Helsie died two months ago. Heart failure.” He shook his head. “Makes no sense. She was in great shape. I went to visit her every day.”

“So how did she seem in that last week before she passed away?”

He shook his head, slowly, regretfully. “That’s the kicker in all of this. My son thought I needed a break. It took some doing, but he finally convinced me to come visit him in Montana. We set up camp in the mountains where nobody could bother us. The weather was surprisingly good for that time of the year so we even stayed an extra few days. By the time I returned home, Helsie was dead.”

Lizzy’s heart went out to the man.

“I had a dozen missed calls by the time I returned. The nursing home’s chief medical officer told me she died of heart failure caused by clogged arteries. It didn’t make sense, but I was in shock and why would I doubt what the doctors told me?”

“I don’t know,” Lizzy said. “Why are you doubting them now?”

“Because of an anonymous note I found in my mailbox.” He gestured with his chin toward the folder. “It’s in the very back.”

Lizzy flipped through the file and picked up the handwritten note. It had been written on a simple stationery with a squiggly design in the bottom right-hand corner. The message was short and sweet.

EVERYTHING IS NOT WHAT IT SEEMS. NEED AUTOPSY.

Lizzy looked at Gus. “Did you have the body exhumed?”

“I tried. My application was denied. I guess that only happens in the movies. I should have requested an official autopsy when I first learned of her death. But like I said before, I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time.”

“I understand.”

“I thought you would.”

“How is that?”

“I’ve read about you. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to help me?”

She stared into Gus’s rheumy gray eyes. “I can try, but you should know that I’m having a difficult time just getting through the day.”

“I call it teetering on the edge of insanity,” Gus said.

She looked at him for a long moment. There was something about the old man that calmed her. She couldn’t put her finger on it exactly, but it was simply there, like the air that she breathed.

“I don’t have much money,” he went on, “but I can help you out if you ever need any work done.”

Lizzy tapped her pencil against her chin. She didn’t want or expect anything from Gus, but she didn’t want to offend him, either. “What kind of work?”

“You name it . . . plumbing, electrical. Whatever you need done.”

Lizzy offered him a hand. “Well, Gus, it looks like you’ve got yourself an investigator.”

They shook hands. For an old guy, his grip was surprisingly strong.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hayley walked outside, where Kitally was waiting by the car. Instead of her usual avant-garde getup, she wore jeans, T-shirt, dark sunglasses, and a white baseball cap. Hayley might not have recognized Kitally at all if it weren’t for the rainbow-colored dread hanging over one shoulder.

The jeans and T-shirt complete with silly logo weren’t the only things throwing Hayley off. There was an eleven-by-fourteen magnetic sign on Kitally’s Toyota. It read:
H & K H
OUSE
C
LEANING
S
ERVICES
. In the backseat of the car were buckets and mops and all sorts of cleaning supplies.

“Looks like you thought of everything.”

“Pretty much,” Kitally said, holding up a T-shirt with the H & K logo. “This one’s for you.”

“I’ll pass.”

Kitally shrugged. “Your loss. Do you have the flash drive?”

Hayley patted her pocket and then held up a large envelope filled with porn.

Kitally looked inside the envelope. “Gross. Where did you get these?”

“I’ve been collecting all sorts of goods that could be used as evidence we might need to put these guys away. This is just one of my gold mines.”

“Maybe you should have left those pictures wherever you found them so we could report that particular weirdo.”

“No way,” Hayley said. “The loser I took these from likes to look, but he doesn’t touch. Those guys are a dime a dozen. We can get him anytime. Right now, we need to focus on the pervs who are doing the most damage. And Holmes needs to be put away. Besides, he’s number three on the list.”

“I didn’t see anything on the news or in the paper about Owen Dunham, did you?”

“Never heard of him.”

Kitally lowered her voice. “The guy without balls . . . does that ring a bell?”

Hayley stepped closer and said in a low voice, “Listen. Unless we’re talking to Lizzy about any of the people on our list, it’s best if you don’t ever mention his name again. Let it go. That’s how it has to be, OK?”

“Got it,” Kitally said before they both climbed into the car.

On the drive from Carmichael to West Sacramento, Kitally said, “Do you think this will work?”

“It has to.” Donald Holmes was a guard in the state women’s prison. After a yearlong investigation, he was convicted of raping two teenagers and yet all he’d gotten for it was community time and probation.

“Did the investigators ever talk to any of the women in the prison who filed complaints?”

“No,” Hayley said. “They’re merely prisoners, so they don’t count.”

“What little time I did in detention was enough to make me realize I don’t ever want to end up in prison,” Kitally said. “I have to say, I am beginning to feel the weight of everything we’ve been doing lately.”

“What do you mean?” Hayley had never spoken a word to Kitally, Tommy, or anyone else about the man whose life she’d taken months before. Sometimes she woke up in a cold sweat at the thought of what she’d done. She couldn’t say she regretted it—the man had destroyed too many lives to count—but still, the act itself had left a bad taste in her mouth. Nobody else knew, and she was determined to keep it that way. “I thought you were excited about Wallace getting ten years,” Hayley said. “What happened to the enthusiasm?”

“I guess I’m having second thoughts. Me, you, and Lizzy are all risking doing more time than this rapist. And for what?”

“You’re not making sense,” Hayley said. “This is all coming out of left field.”

“I just read about a case where a hacker was able to expose a rapist, but the hacker ended up doing more time than the rapist. Not cool.”

Now they were getting somewhere, to the root of Kitally’s change of heart. “Calm down,” Hayley told her. “I don’t know the details of the case you’re talking about, but we’re not going to get caught. I’m going to plant the child porn on Holmes’s PC and place the drugs and the pictures inside his house, somewhere where the cops won’t be able to miss it. Then we’re going to use this nifty throwaway phone that criminals love so much and call 911 to report a rape currently taking place inside his house. Done deal.”

“We’re taking a lot of chances to put away one rapist out of a thousand. And like you said the other day, how long will they keep him behind bars after he’s caught?”

“You’re looking at this all wrong,” Hayley explained. “It may be only one guy, but we’re helping dozens of future victims by getting this guy off the streets. You have to keep your eye on the prize. This is less about putting the rapist away and more about helping innocent women and young girls who don’t stand a chance against monsters like Holmes.”

The rest of the drive was quiet.

Thanks to satellite maps, they already knew exactly where to park when they arrived at Holmes’s house. Holmes didn’t get off work until eight o’clock at night. It was the middle of the afternoon. They had plenty of time. No wife, kids, or girlfriends to worry about. Kitally was the lookout. If anyone parked in Holmes’s driveway or at the curb in front of the house, if anyone walked anywhere near his place, Kitally would send Hayley a warning text.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Hayley said before climbing out of the car. “Fifteen minutes tops, unless I have trouble getting into his computer.” The guy was pretty active on social media for a sociopath. Tommy had befriended Holmes under the guise of having similar interests in video war games. It didn’t take Tommy long to figure out what sort of equipment Holmes was using.

Hayley climbed out of the car and headed across the street for Holmes’s front door, leaving the cleaning supplies behind.

Kitally watched Hayley go. It was true. She’d been having second thoughts about this whole vigilante thing, mostly because she had seen the look in Hayley’s eyes when they were dealing with Owen Dunham. If she hadn’t been there, Hayley might have taken things too far. And that made Kitally nervous.

Nothing had been the same since Jared’s funeral.

Sometimes life didn’t just go on, after all. Sometimes the world really did stop turning on its axis because that’s how it felt. Lizzy was angry at the world, and Hayley seemed to walk a fine line between compassion and coldheartedness.

She watched Hayley disappear inside Holmes’s house. Hayley was good. She made breaking and entering seem like child’s play.

Kitally focused her attention on the street in front of her. The houses on both sides were small and nondescript. At the end of the block, there was an empty lot littered with trash. A white sedan drove by. It was a woman driver. The lady kept her gaze straight ahead, didn’t appear to notice Kitally sitting behind the wheel of the car, waiting as the minutes slowly ticked by.

Her cell phone vibrated. She picked it up and looked at the caller ID.
Mom.
She’d have to call her back later.

Two kids on bikes were headed her way. She didn’t know whether to hunker down in her seat or sit up a little straighter. She opted for leaning over and looking through the glove box. If they slowed down even a little bit, she would text Hayley.

The kids cruised past without a glance her way.

She looked at the time. Only seven minutes had passed.

She sucked in a breath and then slowly released it. Every time a breeze blew by, the branches of the trees creaked and swayed. She looked at her phone. No texts from Hayley. No need to worry.

Her phone vibrated.

It was Mom. Again.
Jesus.
She hit Talk. “Mom, I really can’t talk right now, but since you’ve called twice in five minutes, I figured it must be urgent.”

“I just wanted to make sure you would be able to come by the house next week and water the inside plants.”

Now she remembered. Her parents were going on another trip. The Greek islands. “I’ll water the plants. I promise.”

“Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine. You and Dad have fun, and I’ll come visit when you get back.”

Unfortunately, it was never that easy to get off the phone with her mom. Every call required a comprehensive update on the family, which included second and third cousins Kitally had never met. By the time Kitally finally pulled herself free, another fifteen minutes had passed. Hayley had been inside Holmes’s house for twenty-two minutes.

Kitally looked around. Nobody in the neighborhood was out and about. Nobody checking their mail or mowing their lawn. She took a good look at Holmes’s house with its faded pink paint job. The walkway was uneven and cracked. The lawn was decorated with a few sporadic weeds. Blankets hanging over the windows made it impossible to see inside. Curling her fingers around the door handle, she was about to get out when she saw a car approaching. She decided to sit still, wait until the car passed before she made her exit.

But the car didn’t pass by at all. The Honda Civic pulled into the driveway.

It was him. Donald Holmes. He was home early.

Shit.

She grabbed her cell phone and quickly texted Hayley.
Holmes is home. Get out of the house!

Holmes walked to the door. He was short and stocky. His clothes were wrinkled and baggy. Hopefully Hayley would hear him using his keys to get in the front door.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

Seconds turned into minutes.

She kept waiting to see Hayley running around the side of the house, but nothing happened. Her nerves were shot. She couldn’t take it any longer. She climbed out of the car, went to the front, and opened the hood. Then she headed for the house and knocked on the door.

The door opened. Up close, she could see that his gut hung over his pants and a light sheen of sweat covered his brow. He held the doorknob with one hand and a can of beer with the other. His brown wiry hair curled around two monstrous ears.

Kitally shivered.

“What are you selling, little girl?”

“Nothing.” She tried to peek over his shoulder. “I’m having car troubles.” Without looking behind her, she gestured across the street toward her car. “Would it be possible to use your phone?”

He glanced at the car, then gave her a once-over before taking another look across the street. “That’s a nice car. Where’s your cell phone?”

“I forgot to charge it last night,” she lied. She couldn’t understand why Hayley wasn’t making a run for it, but maybe by calling him to the door she’d given her a chance to climb out a window or run out the back door. “Maybe I’ll just try the engine one more time. Sorry to have bothered you.”

Before she could leave, he grabbed hold of her shoulder, his hand clamped so tight she could feel the rough edges of his fingernails through her shirt. “You can use my phone,” he said.

She stepped inside. The door shut behind her. A lock clicked into place. She headed left toward the kitchen, but he stopped her again and pointed to the right. “The phone is this way.”

She followed him down a narrow hallway. The place smelled like body odor. The guy obviously didn’t own a bar of soap.

There were two bedrooms. Both doors were open. Holmes walked ahead while she stopped to look inside the first bedroom. There was a futon covered with dirty clothes. A desk with a computer sat in front of the bedroom window.
Where is Hayley hiding?
“Don’t you have a phone in your—”

A hand clamped over her mouth.

She hadn’t seen or heard him step up from behind her. He dragged her backward into the next room. Not only was he overweight, he was strong, and he had her flat on the ground with her hands wrenched back behind her, nearly three hundred pounds keeping her down. She wriggled, tried to get air to her lungs. It was no use.

Moving an inch or two at a time, Hayley wriggled her way out from under the bed.
What was Kitally thinking, coming into the house?
She had single-handedly compromised their plans.

On her feet, Hayley looked around the room. All that came to hand was an old stapler on the desk. It was a real warhorse, at least. The thing felt as if it were made of wrought iron.

It shouldn’t have surprised her to see Kitally beneath the big man in the next bedroom, but it did. She swung the stapler with all her might at his head, but merely clipped him when he turned at the last instant. The effort she put into the swing caused her to lose her footing and stagger backward into a dresser.

He was fast for a big man. He jumped to his feet and reached out for Hayley before she could catch her balance. Yanking her arm behind her, he twisted until she had no choice but to give in. He had her in a headlock.

Kitally was on all fours, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Hayley watched her use the wood frame of the bed to slowly pull herself upward. Her legs wobbled like a newborn deer’s.

They were fucked.

But apparently it was all show. When Kitally whirled around, Hayley wrenched her head to one side, giving Kitally room to jam the heel of her hand into Holmes’s nose.

Bone crunched.

Hayley yanked herself free, but Holmes reeled around, blood gushing from his nose as he blindly planted his knuckles into Hayley’s left cheekbone.

Growling, Kitally struck him in the throat, then used her body weight to throw a sharp elbow dead center into his torso, finishing with a right knee to the groin.

Holmes grunted and fell to the ground.

Hayley and Kitally took off at the same time, down the hall and out the door. Hayley slammed the hood of the car down just as Kitally jumped in behind the wheel. Hayley leaped into the passenger seat right before Kitally hit the gas.

When Hayley looked back, she saw Holmes charge out the door holding his face, stopping in the middle of the street. He was still standing there when Kitally took a sharp left and disappeared out of sight.

Hayley opened the mirror on the visor. There was already some discoloration, and her eye was swollen and half-shut. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Why did you come after me? That was never part of the plan.”

“All you had to do was text me,” Kitally said, “and let me know you were having problems getting shit done in there. I thought you had fallen into a black hole. When Holmes drove up and I didn’t see you drop out of a window or come running around the side of the house, I knew I had to do something.”