Lowcountry Bombshell (A Liz Talbot Mystery) (22 page)

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Authors: Susan M. Boyer

Tags: #Mystery, #private investigators, #humor, #british mysteries, #southern fiction, #cozy mystery, #murder mysteries, #english mysteries, #murder mystery, #southern mysteries, #chick lit, #humorous mystery, #mystery series, #mystery and thrillers, #romantic comedy, #women sleuths

BOOK: Lowcountry Bombshell (A Liz Talbot Mystery)
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Dread washed over me. “Really? I mean…”

“Maybe this is for the best. Some things are hard for me to talk about.”

What more could there possibly be? “Calista—”

“Mrs. Harper will be showing him in any second.”

Dashing towards the guest room, I tapped her name to place the call. I closed the door and stretched out on the lounge by the sliding doors. Then I popped in my earbuds so I could hear better.

“Dr. Gadsden has arrived.” I imagined Elenore’s surprise when she didn’t see me in the room. At that moment, I was thankful she was less than chatty.

Calista said, “Good morning, Doctor Gadsden.”

“Calista, dear one. Warren told me about your scare Saturday night. Naturally, we’re both quite concerned.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I wasn’t taking sleeping pills,” Calista said. “The combination might have killed me.”

The doctor was quiet for a moment. “Indeed.”

“And poor Jimmy…. I used to think he meant to kill me, but after he stuck up for me with Grace, I don’t think he was part of that at all.”

“Do the police have any leads?”

“None that I’m aware of. They’re saying Jimmy killed himself, but I don’t believe it.”

“I see you have protection posted outside. Is he one of SSI’s men?”

“Yes.”

“That’s smart. This is a small town. Law enforcement here is not what it is in larger cities.”

“And yet, the crime rate is much lower,” Calista said. “Odd, isn’t it?”

I smiled. I liked my client more all the time. If we both lived through the week, we might be best of friends.

“Yes, well. Err on the side of caution.” The doctor cleared his throat. “Now, dear one, tell me, how are you handling Jim’s death?”

“I feel bad for him and his family. I’m angry someone killed him because of me. I’m sad he’s dead. But I’m not falling apart, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good, good. It’s tragic, of course. But you’re not responsible for what happened to Jim. You understand that, right?”

“No, actually. I think it was directly because he was trying to look out for me. That’s what got him killed.” Calista sounded agitated.

“You don’t still suspect your mother and Ms. McKee of trying to kill you on Saturday, do you?”

Silence.

Dr. Gadsden said, “Leaving everything else aside, do you suppose they’re capable of the kind of planning such a thing would require? All these dog barking and pill incidents…those things would seem beyond the skill level of the women you’ve described to me. Frankly, I was amazed they drove across the country. Of course, I’ve never met them.”

“Never underestimate Grace McKee. I do think mother has been her pawn. I don’t think mother means me harm. But you’ll never convince me Grace isn’t still trying to cash in on the coincidence of my birth and looks.”

I wondered briefly if Calista’s looks were simply a coincidence. As far as I knew, no one had ever established to a certainty who Marilyn’s father was. Wouldn’t it be something if Calista was distantly related?

“Calista, you must let go of this obsession,” said Dr. Gadsden. “It isn’t healthy. And what’s more, it’s dangerous. It prevents you from being alert to very real dangers.”

“Oh, I have people looking into other possibilities.”

“Really?” The doctor sounded affronted. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I hire people to take care of things. You take care of my emotional issues. Elenore takes care of the house. I have an attorney for legal matters. And I have people looking into who might want to hurt me.”

“You mean SSI?”

“Yes, of course.”

I wondered why Calista chose not to mention me. Was she having doubts about the good doctor?

“I wonder if I should have a talk with them on your behalf.”

“Whatever for?” Calista asked.

“To save you that difficulty, of course.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Calista’s voice sounded stiff.

“Don’t be silly, dear girl. Why deal with these muscle-bound mercenaries yourself? Much more suitable if I do it.”

“Dr. Gadsden, really—”

“In fact, now that I’ve given it some thought, I think it would be best if you came and stayed with me. My wife is in New York at the moment, but the staff is in residence, so everything would be quite proper, I assure you—”

“That’s kind, but no,” Calista said firmly. “I’m staying right here.”

“Well…” The doctor sounded petulant. “I can certainly recommend any other professional services you might need. Call me any time you need me—day or night. After all you’ve been through, it’s important that you know you have one person you can always rely on. And I wouldn’t want you to trust the wrong people.”

This guy was giving me the willies. Even I knew he was overly solicitous to the point of pathology. Or perhaps criminal intent.

“Thank you, Doctor Gadsden,” said Calista. “I do rely on you.”

“Very good. Now, tell me, are the nightmares any better?”

I heard rustling, as if Calista were shifting on the sofa, adjusting pillows and throws. “Not really. I had a really bad one last night.”

“Tell me about it.”

Silence. Then, “He was here, in this house. Not the one in West Ashley.”

“I see. What happened in the dream?”

“He tied me up on the bed, exactly the same way he did two years ago in West Ashley. The same way he does in every dream. The only difference is it happened here.”

“And then…”

“He stole everything—electronics, jewelry, everything he could carry off.”

“Did he hurt you?”

Calista’s voice was tight. “No, Doctor. He didn’t…molest me. Not in the dream, not two years ago. I would have told you that by now. I’m not hiding anything. But what he did was bad enough. I thought he was going to kill me. He terrorized me for hours. He taunted me without saying a word while he ransacked my house, and he left me tied to the bed. Only in the dream last night, instead of the police, it was Niles who found me.”

I was frozen with shock. This was what she hadn’t told me. She’d been attacked. Tied up and left for—how long?

“The yoga instructor?” asked Dr. Gadsden.

“Yes.”

“Do you see him as your savior?”

“I see him as a friend. I don’t have many friends.”

“But he’s an employee.”

“That’s true. But he’s also a friend. Like you are.”

The doctor cleared his throat. “I just want you to be careful who you rely on. You’re very vulnerable right now.”

“And I’m very careful, Doctor.”

“Very well. When you woke up from the dream, were you able to go back to sleep?”

“No. But it was five o’clock. I got up and watched the sunrise.”

“You’re simply not getting enough rest. If you won’t consider pills, how about an injection? I can control the dose very carefully. There’s no way you could overdose.”

“Absolutely not.” Calista’s voice rose.

“All right, dear. Calm down.”

“Doctor, I’m very sorry, but I have to speak with the authorities this morning. I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this meeting short.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Can’t you give your statement this afternoon?”

“No.”

Silence. The doctor made a few blustery noises. “Then I think we should meet again tomorrow. What time is good for you?”

“Let’s just meet again on Wednesday for our regular eleven o’clock.”

“I don’t recommend that.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor Gadsden. I’m sure you understand. This week is going to be very busy for me. I have to arrange for Jimmy to be sent home to his mother.”

“Why does that fall to you, for heaven’s sake?”

“Because I volunteered to do it.”

“But why—”

“Doctor Gadsden, please excuse me. I must get ready for my day.”

He sighed so loud the phone picked it up. “Very well. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

I heard footsteps.

After a moment, Calista said, “He’s gone, Liz.”

I ended the call and rejoined her in the great room.

She’d built a wall of pillows and throws around her, and she hugged the biggest pillow tightly. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Now you know everything.”

I sat beside her and pulled her in for a hug. She hooked an arm under mine and put her head on my shoulder. She cried and I let her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” she said through delicate sobs. “It can’t be related. It was a random burglary. I happened to be home. They never caught him. It was…horrible.”

“Shh.” I continued holding her until she pulled away.

She wiped her eyes. “I’m such a mess.”

I couldn’t help but smile, but I felt it collapse almost as quickly as it formed. “Sweetie, you’re gorgeous even with red eyes.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not. But do you mind if I ask you a few questions? Are you up to it?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

“When did this happen? I didn’t find any record of it.”

“It happened the same night Joey was killed. That’s part of what makes it so awful. The police found me tied to the bed the next morning when they came to tell me Joey was dead. By then, I was worried sick because he hadn’t come home, and terrified no one would find me. They knocked on the door and I screamed and screamed. The burglar left the door unlocked. They came inside and…it was the most awful day of my life.”

“Did you file a report?”

“No. I couldn’t. I had a funeral to plan. The police officers were very kind to me. I think they must have felt sorry for me. I refused to report the burglary or the assault. They tried to get me to, at first. Burglaries aren’t a high priority, but there had been two others in the neighborhood. But I was a mess. Finally, they left me alone.  I couldn’t even talk about being tied up and left like that. That’s when I started seeing Doctor Gadsden.”

“Did you see the guy who attacked you?”

“No. He wore a ski mask.”

“Was their anything familiar about his voice?”

“He never said a single word. So you see, I couldn’t identify him. Why put myself through talking about it to strangers when there was no hope of catching him?”

“How did he get in?”

“He came in through the front door. He must have picked the lock because the door wasn’t forced. I was in the shower. I never even heard him until he was in the bathroom with me. He pushed back the shower curtain, grabbed me and tied me to the bed. I kicked and fought. But he was too strong. He gagged me. And then started going through our things, looking for valuables. Before he left, he held a knife to my throat and stared at me for the longest time. He took the gag out and kept the knife to my throat. It’s like he was warning me not to scream. It was senseless. We didn’t own a thing worth all of that.”

“What did he take from your house?”

“Everything he could carry. He tore the place apart. It’s like he was trying to destroy what he couldn’t take. He was very angry.”

My brain vibrated. “Calista, was this before, or after, you claimed the lottery prize?”

“Before.
I
didn’t even know about the money, so no one else did, that’s certain.”

“Did anyone else know the numbers Joe played?”

Calista shrugged. “It’s possible, I guess.”

I pondered that for a moment. As motives go, seven hundred million dollars was a humdinger. If someone had known the numbers, he might have carjacked a man to get the ticket. And once he’d killed that man, he might believe the widow owed him the jackpot. It felt like I was on to something solid.

Gently, I said, “I think maybe your burglar did know. Maybe he was looking for the lottery ticket. I’ll bet you he killed Joe for that ticket. Where was it?”

Calista sat up straight, her eyes round. “It was inside his lucky cap. Normally, he kept them in his wallet. But I’d gotten him a new wallet a few days before. He’d started putting them in his ball cap for luck, he said. I thought they didn’t fit in the new wallet without folding or something, but he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“I don’t think that carjacker killed Joe for eleven dollars and change or a ride in his Cadillac. I think he killed him for that lottery ticket, and when he didn’t find it on Joe, he came looking for it at your house. Your address would have been on the car registration. And the burglar would’ve had Joe’s keys.”

“That’s why he trashed the place. And that’s why he was so angry. But why wouldn’t he ask me where it was?”

“That would’ve been too risky.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If he’d asked you where the ticket was, and you didn’t know, and he’d let you live, you’d have known what he was after and reported it. Then there would’ve been a much higher probability of him getting caught. They would have tied him to Joe’s murder. But, he couldn’t kill you if you didn’t know where it was. With you dead, he wouldn’t have known what would happen to the money. If he’d found the ticket, he would’ve killed you. But without the ticket in his hand, he needed you alive to claim the prize so he could come back later and get the money.”

“Joey was wearing the ball cap. He had the ticket. The police returned it to me with his personal effects that had no value as evidence. I found it by accident. I was wearing the cap around the house. I felt something in there. The only reason I even checked the numbers is because it was on the news that the winning ticket had been sold at the mini-mart near our house, but the prize hadn’t been claimed. The first thing I did was call an attorney who specializes in lottery winners.”

“That was smart.”

“I can’t believe it. But I do. It never made sense to me why anyone would carjack a minor league baseball coach. Why not some lawyer or banker driving a Mercedes? This makes perfect sense. He was looking for the ticket.”

“Not only do I believe he was looking for that ticket, I think he’s still looking for the money.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

While Blake and Nate interviewed Ryder Keenan that Monday morning, the Charleston Police Department executed a search warrant on his house. They found Rohypnol, a jacket splattered with blood which was a type-match for Jim Davis, and the gun used to kill Harmony. Keenan swore it was all planted. That was all he said before he lawyered up. Sonny and Blake were convinced he was guilty. Me, not so much.

Mack Ryan was busy doing damage control. He had one team at Calista’s house all Monday afternoon testing equipment, and another going through logs at SSI offices. Her round-the-clock security was still in force.

Tuesday morning, Nate and I splurged and went to the Cracked Pot for breakfast. We ran an extra three miles to make up for what I planned on eating. I might have had other motives for suggesting we go out. Moon Unit Glendawn was a great source of island information.

“Well, good morning, y’all,” Moon Unit called from behind the counter. “Sit anywhere you like. I’ll be right over.”

“Let’s snag that back booth,” I said.

The bells jangled behind us, announcing more arrivals. We hustled to the only empty booth and slid in quickly. Nate picked up a menu.

“I know what I want,” I said. I could already taste the red eye gravy and biscuits.

“I think I’ll have what you’re having. Locals always know the menu best.”

I reached for his hand. “It won’t take long for you to feel like a local.”

His expression was unreadable.

Moon Unit appeared by the table. “Hey, sweetie. My, my, what do we have here?” She looked Nate over like she could just eat him up with a spoon.

I said, “Moon Unit, have you not met Nate?”

Nate said, “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. Nate Andrews.” He offered Moon Unit a hand.

She took it and held on. “Nate
Andrews
.” She looked at me.

“Yes,” I said. “He’s Scott’s brother. They are nothing alike.”

“Well, of course
not
.” Moon dragged the word into three syllables. “I’m so sorry for your family’s misfortune.”

“Thank you,” Nate said. He gave me a look that screamed
make it stop
.

I said, “Moon Unit we are starving. We ran nearly ten miles this morning. I’d like scrambled eggs with cheese, country ham, grits, and biscuits with red eye.”

“Sweetie, I know what chu want for breakfast, right down to ice in your orange juice and Splenda and cream in your coffee.” She turned to Nate. “What would you like, darlin’?”

“I’d like the same, except eggs over easy, please.”

“Coming right up.” She whirled away.

“She’s energetic,” Nate said.

I laughed. “That’s one way to put it. She’s harmless. We’ve been friends since high school.”

Nate raised his eyebrows.

Moon Unit set down two mugs, a pot of coffee, a ramekin of sweetener packets, and a small pitcher of cream. “I can’t hardly believe we’ve got us another dead body on our hands, can y’all?”

“It’s a tragedy,” I said.

“Hard to believe,” Nate murmured.

Moon picked up the coffee pot and poured. She shook her head, “Mmm, mmm, mmm.”

“Moon, how well do you know Elenore Harper?” I asked.

She screwed up her face. “She’s an odd duck. Not well. I doubt anyone does. I can’t think what possessed Warren to marry her. Him being a doctor and all. Lauren is a much better fit for him. She’s just the sweetest—”

I said, “Did you ever meet Elenore’s oldest child?”

“That boy? I met him a time or two. You know she kept moving back and leaving, moving back and leaving. He was a year or so older than us. What was his name? She consulted the ceiling. “It’ll come to me.” She rushed off to greet someone else.

Nate tilted his head at me. “Did we come here so you could pump her?”

I reached for an innocent look. “I came for country ham, biscuits, and gravy.”

“Nate and Sonny are convinced they have the right guy.”

“It feels too neat. I’ll have to tie him to that lottery ticket before I buy it. And someone needs to explain how the Rohypnol got into the tea. What was your read on him? From the interview?”

Nate shrugged. “He didn’t seem the type. My instincts would’ve pegged him for innocent. But my instincts aren’t admissible in court, and all that evidence is.”

“Did he have an alibi for Friday night?”

“By the time we got to that question, he was under arrest and had lawyered up. He’s not answering any more questions.”

“This smells like a frame to me,” I said.

“Liz, let it go. Two jurisdictions of police departments are working this case. Calista has around the clock security. There’s strong evidence against Keenan, who was one of your prime suspects just yesterday.”

“I know, I know.”

“Then relax. Let’s go for a swim later. The temperature’s down to something below broil. How about a beach day?”

I winced. I still had too many loose ends.

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