Lilac Avenue (40 page)

Agent Brown pulled his chair closer to the table, opened a file folder, and set it on the table between them.

“You’ve had a busy week,” he said with an amused smile.

“I didn’t realize I was under surveillance,” Claire said. “Why is that?”

“It’s not you we’re interested in,” Agent Brown said. “At least not until today.”

“Why today?” Claire asked.

“You had a meeting with Anne Marie Rodefeffer in the Sacred Heart Church,” he said. “I’d like to know what you discussed.”

Claire looked at Sean, who nodded for her to continue.

“She was mad at me for bailing on her seminar,” Claire said. “And she blamed me for the spa staff and guests leaving. We had an argument. Hold on. She’s not dead, is she?”

“No,” Agent Brown said. “She’s not dead.”

“Thank goodness,” Claire said. “You don’t want to be the last person who argued with someone before they get knocked off.”

“Please tell me as much as you can remember about your conversation,” he said.

Claire noticed no one was taking notes, so she assumed she was being recorded. She started at the beginning and told them as much as she could remember.

“Ed Harrison was there,” Claire said. “He heard everything she said.”

“We know,” Agent Brown said.

He removed
some papers from the file and handed it to Claire to read. It was a copy of the article Ed had written on Anne Marie’s ministry, the one that would be in the next day’s edition of the
Rose Hill Sentinel
. The one she helped him put together. Claire didn’t bother to ask how they had got hold of it because she knew they wouldn’t tell her.

“Are you investigating Anne Marie?” Claire asked.

“For the purposes of this meeting we’re primarily interested in Knox Rodefeffer,” Agent Brown said. “His ex-wife has been peripheral to that investigation, but considering the events of this past week, we’d like to find out if she had any involvement in the death of Mr. Rodefeffer’s aunt, or his ex-secretary.”

“I don’t have any proof,” Claire said. “I wish I did.”

The agent asked Claire more questions, and Claire told him about all her dealings with Knox and Anne Marie, from her visit a couple of years previously with Sloan to Anne Marie’s place on the West Coast, where they both received psychic readings; to April of the current year, when she had actually hit Knox in the face for putting her parents into a predatory balloon mortgage. She admitted she hid under the bed in Joy’s room at the Eldridge Inn and what she had heard. She told them about catching Jeremy and Courtenay together, and what Jeremy said about her death. When she was finished, she looked at Sean.

“I hope they’re both truly alive and well,” she said. “Or I just moved to the top of the suspects’ list.”

Sean shook his head as he smiled. He looked concerned, but he had let her go on and on without stopping her. Claire reflected that, seeing as how Sean was a corporate attorney, and not a criminal defense lawyer, she may have just made a grievous error in judgment.

“We’d like for you to meet with Knox
and Anne Marie,” the agent said, “and wear a wire.”

“No,” Claire said. “No way.”

“You don’t have to,” Sean said. ‘They can’t make you.”

“You say you don’t want them to get away with anything,” Agent Brown said. “Here’s a way to make sure they don’t.”

“But why would they even meet with me?” Claire said. “Knox hates me and Anne Marie knows whatever she says I’ll run straight to the press.”

“We want you to tell Anne Marie that you’ve reconsidered what she said, and that you would be willing to recant if you can come to some understand
ing with her and her ex-husband.”

“Isn’t that blackmail?” Claire said. “Is that even legal?”

She looked at Sean, who looked uncomfortable, and a little sheepish.

“You’re a lot of help,” she said.

“I’m also a little drunk,” Sean said. “Look, if you don’t want to do it, please don’t.”

“Time is of the essence,” Agent Brown said. “Once that story is out, we’ve lost our bargaining chip with Anne Marie.”

Claire wanted desperately to talk to Ed.

“I guess I can’t discuss this with anyone first,” she said.

“We need you to make that call now,” Agent Brown said. “Wherever you meet, we’ll be nearby; we won’t let you come to any harm.”

Claire wanted Anne Marie and Knox to get what was coming to them for the deaths of Mamie and Courtenay, plus all the other people they had swindled and abused over the years. She just didn’t want to have to do the dirty work. She could refuse, and no one would blame her, yet she would then have to tell Ed that story. Wouldn’t she rather be able to tell him how brave and awesome she was? Wouldn’t she rather be able to give him the scoop on how Knox and Anne Marie were finally caught? That might mitigate telling him about the tawdry, shallow me
andering she had done over the past twenty years of her life.

More than anything, she wished she could talk to her dad. He wouldn’t have allowed her to do anything dangerous, she was sure, but what if they had asked him to do it? What would her father have done, the father she used to have?

“Okay,” she said, surprising herself. “What do you want me to do?”

Chapter Eleven - Saturday

Before he and Maggie left for the party at the Thorn, Scott called Sarah to let her know he was leaving town, and who would be in charge.

“I know Purcell,”
Sarah said. “He’s kind of a jackass.”

“He’s not likely to let you push him around, is what you mean to say,” Scott said.

“Not like you,” Sarah said.

“No,” Scott said. “Not like me.”

“I can’t believe she actually went through with it,” Sarah said. “You must be relieved.”

“I’m very happy,” Scott said. “What’s going on with the investigation?”

“The feds took over,” she said. “Agent Brown is going to keep me informed, but I’m out of it, officially.”

“Jamie Brown?” Scott asked.

“The very one,” she said. “He remembered me from last time.”

“I remember him, too,” Scott said. “You better be careful, Sarah; that man has no conscience whatsoever.”

“I’m touched you care so much,” Sarah said. “You should have called me to come to your bachelor party. We could’ve had fun.”

“It wasn’t that kind of party,” Scott said. “And now I’m a married man.”

“Means nothing to me,” Sarah said.

“Then y
ou and Agent Brown should get along famously,” Scott said. “Good luck, Sarah.”

“Aren’t you going to keep in touch?”

“Nope,” Scott said. “Rose Hill is now in Chief Purcell’s capable hands. If you need anything, you call him.”

Scott hung up the phone and rubbed his forehead.

“What’d she say?” Maggie asked. “I mean, between insulting you and hitting on you.”

“Agent Jamie Brown is back in town and the Feds have got the case.”

“It’s a good time to leave, then,” Maggie said.

“I’ll give Chief Purcell a call in the morning,” Scott said. “Just to warn him about Jamie.”

“And then no more,” Maggie said. “Promise me.”

“I can promise I’ll try,” Scott said. “I’ll tell him to call me if I’m needed, but otherwise, I will not call.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking this might not be such a great idea,” Maggie said. “I don’t know what it’s like to have so much time with nothing to do and neither do you. We might drive each other insane.”

“There is something we can do, and it’s something we haven’t done before,” Scott said.

“What’s that, relax?”

“No, silly woman, we haven’t consummated this marriage yet. We haven’t had any of that lackluster post-marital sex I was promised.”

“There will be a lot less of it, I’m afraid,” Maggie said. “That’s what everyone says.”

“Is that what you say?”

“Hell, no,” Maggie said. “I say we set the curve for post-marital sex. I say we bring up the averages.”

“I’ll be happy to oblige you,” Scott said. “You know what else they say.”

“What’s that?”

“A happy wife means a happy life.”

Claire was standing at the falls overlook in Pine Mountain State Park; the precise place where Courtenay had fallen to her death. The wind was cold, having come past the falls, which roared in the background. Other than the widely spaced footlights along the path from the lodge, the only light was from the moon, shining down between the tall pines. It seemed brighter than usual, and for that she was grateful.

Claire stood well away from the stone wall over which Courtenay had been thrown. Her heart was pounding; in her ears she could hear the sound of her blood pumping. Even though she knew she was surrounded by hidden agents, she was shaking with fear.

‘I always hate the part in the movie when the heroine does something this stupid,’ she thought. ‘So why am I here?’

She looked at her
phone; they were fifteen minutes late. She heard someone coming along the path, and then a figure entered the moonlit clearing in which she stood. It was not Anne Marie or Knox, however. It was Jeremy.

“Of course it would be you,” she said. “I should have figured they’d send a hit-man.”

“I’m just here to take you to a different meeting place,” Jeremy said, raising his hands in the air. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Tell them the deal’s off,” Claire said. “I’m not stupid enough to go to a second location with the hired henchman.”

“They’re not stupid, either,” Jeremy said. “They figure that newspaper’s editor is hidden here somewhere.”

“He’s too ethical for this,” Claire said. “Plus this story is his big break and I’m about to blow it right out of the water. If the price is right, that is.”

“What made you change your mind?” Jeremy said.

“I just found out all the money I had invested was lost in a Ponzi scheme,” Claire said. “I’m unemployed now and I need the cash.”

That was the cover story Claire had thought up, and she was impressed with her own creativity. She’d spent too much time living among actors, no doubt, but she felt she needed a back story in order to be believable.

“You could always work for Anne Marie,” he said. “Joy quit today, so she needs someone to take charge. Come meet with her and we’ll discuss it.”

“I could never work for her or Knox,” Claire said. “I might end up in a ravine with my neck broken.”

“Look here, Claire,” Jeremy said. “If you want to work something out with Anne Marie, you have to come with me now. If she thinks you don’t trust her, she’s certainly not going to want to help you.”

“Is that the offer you made to Courtenay before you killed her?”

“You shouldn’t make accusations like that,” Jeremy said. “It’s dangerous.”

“Why did you have to kill Courtenay?” Claire said. “I mean, after you tried to kill Meredith the same way you killed Mamie?”

“I’m warning you,” he said. “If you want us to play nice
, you better zip it.”

“Kind of sloppy to use the same tea, twice,” Claire said. “As soon as Mamie’s toxicology report comes back
, I’m betting the cops will think so, too.”

“You just don’t know when to shut up, do you?” Jeremy said.

Bright moonlight glanced off the barrel of the gun he raised. Adrenaline pulsed through Claire’s veins, and the roar of the falls seemed to get louder.

“Nice gun,” Claire said. “Is that a crucial part of Anne Marie’s divine ministry?”

He gestured toward the path with the gun.

“Go back to the parking lot,” he said. “Walk slowly or I’ll shoot you in the back.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Claire said. “You’re going to have to shoot me right here.”

“Fine with me,” Jeremy said.

He released the safety on the gun. Claire waited for the feds to rush in, but nothing happened. Where in the hell were they? With a jolt she realized they were probably hoping for more incriminating admissions, and they didn’t care if Claire got shot in order to deliver them. Claire began to slowly back up toward the stone wall behind her.

“Since I’m going to die anyway,” Claire said, “tell me, Jeremy; I can understand why you killed
Mamie, to get the insurance money, and Courtenay, seeing as how she knew all of Knox’s secrets; but why kill Meredith?”

“
It was an accident that Meredith drank the tea,” he said. “She’s not important.”

“If they determine Mamie’s death was not from
natural causes,” Claire said, “the insurance companies won’t pay out a penny.”

“The chemical compound in willow root is bio-identical to aspirin; that’s what made it so ideal for killing Mamie. We knew she had an aspirin allergy, plus the prescribed drugs she was on would make even the smallest dose toxic. Combine that with her age; it was a safe bet.”

“The police chief has already figured that out,” Claire said. “You’re not going to get away with it.”

“He’ll have to prove it first,” Jeremy said. “That’s why we can’t afford to have any loose cannons running around.”

“Like loose cannon Courtenay, you mean,” Claire said. “And now loose cannon Claire.”

“I’ll give you the same choice I gave her,” he said. “You can jump over that wall, or I’ll shoot you in the head. It’s up to you. You might even survive the fall.”

“You don’t believe that,” Claire said, “or you wouldn’t offer it.”

“It’s up to you,” he said. “I’m giving you five seconds to decide. One, two …”

He put both hands on the gun, raised it, and aimed it directly at Claire’s head. Claire’s heart leapt; where were the friggin’ feds?

“That will be too many deaths in one week,” Claire said. “All you’re doing is drawing more suspicion on Anne Marie.”

“Three, four ...” he said.

Claire dove sideways into the shadows and rolled in the dirt and leaves. The gun went off, and he missed her, but he might shoot again. She scrambled to her feet and ran, only to trip over a tree root and fall, skinning her hands and knees. She looked back in time to see Jeremy drop the gun, scream, and clutch one of the hands that had been hol
ding it. His blood looked black in the moonlight. Claire hadn’t heard another shot, but then she thought the FBI sharpshooter had probably used a silencer.

“You took long enough!” Claire yelled. “Son of a bitch!”

Agents came running from every direction, along with her cousin Sean, out of breath and pale with fear. Sean held out a hand, Claire took it, and he pulled her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms and embraced her.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know they would let it go so far.”

Claire was trembling all over, and although she wanted to, she was damned if she was going to cry in front of them. Sean let her go and looked her up and down.

“Are you
all right?” Sean asked her. “As soon as I heard he had a gun I started running. I thought they were going to let him shoot you.”

“Me, too,” Claire said.

There were so many agents around Jeremy that Claire couldn’t see him. Agent Brown slowly walked over to where Sean and Claire were standing.

“Are you crazy?” Sean asked him. “She could have been killed.”

“Good job,” Jamie said to Claire.

Claire slapped him hard across the face, and then she cursed him
. Jamie just continued to smile at her as he rubbed his cheek. After she ran out of curse words, Claire lifted her shirt up and pulled off the wire taped to her chest, with one big, painful rip. The pain was worse than bikini wax.

“Son of a bitch!” she said. “That hurt.”

“Careful now,” Agent Brown said.

“Take me back to town,” she said to Sean. “This instant.”

“I’m going to need her to sign a statement,” Agent Brown said to Sean.

“I’m not signing anything for anybody,” Claire said. “And if I have to walk home I will.”

“Don’t call her, and don’t come near her again,” Sean said, “unless you want to see all of this on the news tomorrow.”

Claire pushed past Jamie and walked around the cluster of agents surrounding Jeremy, who was being suspiciously quiet. She was sure at any second someone would stop her, but no one did. Sean caught up to her and grabbed her hand.

“Claire, I’m so sorry I let you get sucked into this,” he said. “I had no idea they would let it go so far.”

“That man doesn’t give a shit what happens to us,” Claire said. “As soon as we get to the lodge, we’ll get someone from the state park to drive us down the mountain. I don’t want to be anywhere near that sociopath ever again.”

“I don’t think they’d make you ride with Jeremy.”

“I’m not
talking about Jeremy,” Claire said. “I’m talking about Agent Brown.”

“Where’s Claire?” Scott asked Maggie.

“Off with Ed somewhere, probably,” Maggie said.

They were standing by the bar in a packed Rose and Thorn. Scott had to shout to be heard over the loud music, as Scooter and his band played an aggressively cheerful traditional Irish tune. Patrick was playing a drum and singing, so Sam was tending bar.

Because everything was on the house, everyone was pretty drunk. Scott was sipping the one beer he was allowing himself, while Maggie and Hannah were throwing back shots of whiskey. Maggie’s face was flushed red and her eyes were sparkling bright.

“You’re going to be throwing those up in the car tomorrow,” Scott shouted. “It’s a nine-hour drive.”

“I’ll sleep while you drive,” Maggie shouted back.

“Party pooper,” yelled Hannah.

“Sane voice of reason,” Scott said, but not loud enough anyone could hear.

Sam came up and clapped him on the back. He seemed a little drunk, as well.

“Where’s Claire?” he asked.

“Somewhere with Ed,” Scott said.

“No, she’s not,” Sam said. “Ed’s at the paper office, alone.”

“Should we worry?” Scott said.

Sam raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“Yes, we should,” he said.