I ate a chunk of perfectly cooked medium-rare steak and took a sip of Merlot. I looked over at Elizabeth, who was playing with her food. I guess bringing up Terry dampened her evening.
“You okay?”
She met my gaze and nodded. “I’m nervous about making a new start. There are so many things I need to know about Nick, but I don’t want to upset him right now. He told me about the divorce. Do you know if it was amicable?”
My eyes shifted to JR, and he nodded.
I thought a moment. “Nick hadn’t actually filed for divorce. His wife died in a car accident before it happened. She was pregnant.”
“Oh, God, that’s terrible. Why didn’t he—”
“It’s a sore subject, and I’m sure in time, Nick would have told you.”
She bowed her head and said, “I wasn’t exactly honest with him either. I told him I was never married and that I’m a nurse. I didn’t want to spoil the evening. I would have told him…” She looked over at me. “Afterward.” A faint smile.
I touched her hand and smiled. “You’ll figure it out.”
JR said, “You’re his angel, Elizabeth.”
She sighed, a smile curving her lips. “I’d like to believe that.”
After a satisfying meal, we drove back to Amanda’s house in silence and bid Elizabeth goodnight, but not before thoroughly checking the house again. On the way back to Nick’s place, JR said, “Now that my cousin is in good hands, I’ll be heading back home tomorrow. NYPD needs me more than you do, Hank.”
“Never.”
The next morning, JR picked up his aunt and escorted her to the hospital. Nick was happy to see them, and happier now that charges against him had been dropped. He had asked about Elizabeth, and JR assured him she would pay him a visit later that day.
JR returned to Nick’s apartment around noon, and with excitement, told me the visit had gone well. On the way to the airport, JR said, “Hank, I can’t thank you enough for helping my aunt and Nick. She’s feeling a whole lot better, and believe it or not, Nick is looking better.”
“All’s good, except for Amanda,” I said with a frown. “I hope the cops catch up to her soon. I’d feel a whole lot better knowing I can head home in peace.”
“Hell, if I didn’t have a deadline on my case, I’d hang around a few days. Too many murders going on in my absence.” He chuckled, and after arriving at the JetBlue terminal, we shook hands and exchanged bear hugs. I watched him disappear inside and sighed.
I exited the terminal roundabout and entered the interstate. Since I didn’t have another gig, I decided to stay in Fort Lauderdale a few days to recuperate from the twins’ syndrome.
About a half-mile from Nick’s building, I called Doctor Powers. He was happy Nick was no longer a suspect but believed he should have stayed a while longer before being discharged.
“I was against it, of course, but he and Elizabeth were convinced, now that the murder was solved, his positive mental health would improve at home.”
“You released him?” I asked, knowing what he’d told me.
“Like I said—”
“Yes, I heard you. Okay, I’m heading over to Nick’s apartment.”
“They seemed happy when they left.”
“I’m sure.” I hung up, unsettled. Elizabeth had said nothing about Nick being discharged. Picking up speed, I arrived at Nick’s building in fifteen minutes. I skipped the elevator for the stairs, and when I arrived at the door, I knocked. “Nick?”
I didn’t like that he didn’t answer and let myself in.
I took out my phone and called Elizabeth.
“Where are you?” I demanded.
“At Amanda’s. Why?”
“Did you visit the hospital yet?”
“No, I was about to leave in a few minutes. What’s wrong?”
“Nick checked himself out, apparently with Amanda’s help. She obviously pretended to be you, and I have no idea where they went.”
“Oh, God, you don’t think—”
Where was my phantom text guy when I needed him? For a quick moment, I wondered whether his intention had been to get Nick out of the hospital. For what? Revenge?
I called JR, but it rolled over to his voice mail.
“If you’re still in town, call me immediately.” I called Detective Walker and told him what I’d learned about Amanda and Nick. “She checked him out pretending to be Elizabeth, and I have no idea where she took him.”
“Not good. I just viewed the surveillance tapes. If it’s true that you picked up Elizabeth at the motel, then it’s her sister I’m after.”
“Amanda had no reason to help discharge Nick unless she had bad intentions. And he obviously wouldn’t have known it was her; he’d just assumed she was Elizabeth.”
“And you’re sure Elizabeth didn’t pick him up at the hospital?”
“I just spoke to her. She’s staying at her sister’s house. Look, if you want to confirm it, be my guest. The only difference between them is a scar on Elizabeth’s left ankle. Make sure she shows you; otherwise, you might be talking to Amanda.”
“How the hell would you know that? Never mind, give me the address.”
I did. “I’ll call Elizabeth and tell her you’re on your way.”
“Fine.” He paused. “I’m afraid to ask where you’re going.”
I had a place in mind, but held off telling Walker. “Not sure.”
He grunted. “I want to know what you’re up to at all times. Do you hear me?”
Fingers crossed. “Of course.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” He disconnected.
The first place that came to mind was Nick’s office. I did a quick Google search. If Amanda’s warped mind was playing games, she’d start from the beginning: the therapy sessions. I started the engine and pulled out quickly, cutting off a car. After a few turns, I arrived at a two-story office building in less than five minutes.
I ran inside and located the directory. Nick’s office was on the first floor, on the other side of the building. Approaching the office, I heard a woman’s voice rambling from inside. She sounded angry and accusatory and threatening.
Amanda.
I grabbed the doorknob, but it was locked. I pounded on the door.
“Amanda, it’s Hank. I know you’re in there. The cops are on their way. It’s over.”
When she didn’t respond, I shouted, “If you hurt him, you’ll never see daylight again. Damn it, Amanda, open the door.” I pounded until the door opened ajar.
She appeared, partially obstructing my view. Her face was an angry sight, her matted hair a mess. She held a bloody six-inch kitchen knife in her hand. “He killed my best friend, Janice.”
I stepped back.
Amanda’s eyes were raw with anger. She held up the knife. “Go away, Hank. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
My sense was Amanda had managed to incapacitate Nick. He was sobbing in the background, but I couldn’t see him. I glared at Amanda. “This is madness. You can’t believe Nick was responsible for your friend’s death.”
“Nick?”
My eyes narrowed on her. “Who the hell’s in there?”
She shifted the door wide enough for me to see. I looked in, then turned to Amanda. “Who is he?”
She snarled. “My bastard husband, Billy. He was sleeping with her. He’s responsible for her death.”
“You’re not making sense.”
Her eyes came alive. “I was waiting for him to return from his trip.”
I held up a hand. “I get it, Amanda. But killing him won’t bring back Janice. You’ll go to prison. Please don’t do this.”
“It’s too late, Hank.”
“But—”
She turned her wrist, placing the knife in a threatening position, and I stepped back, praying she wouldn’t mix me up with Billy.
She sneered and held up the knife. “I got the bastard to admit what he did. It’s over for him,” she spat. Amanda attempted to shut the door, but I
pushed hard and knocked her off-kilter. As I went for the knife, she thrust it at me and nicked my arm.
Her eyes went wide, and she pushed past me, knife in hand, and rushed out the door. I ran inside and found Billy slack on the patient’s chair, bleeding profusely from his stomach, his eyes closed.
I glanced at my wound and frowned, then called for help. I ran to the bathroom and grabbed paper towels from the dispenser and placed them against his wound. I tried stanching the flow of blood, but it wouldn’t stop. I shook off the blood where I’d been cut and removed the phone in my pocket to call Walker.
When he answered, I filled him in on Billy, then added, “Amanda didn’t bring Nick here, and I have no idea what she did with him.”
Walker started to say something, but I glanced down at Billy, his lids fluttering, and said, “I gotta go.” I disconnected, then told Billy, “The paramedics are on their way. Stay with me.”
I sat with him, waiting anxiously, but by the time the medics arrived, he was dead. They bandaged me up, and I told them I’d wait for the police.
After they left, I called Elizabeth and she picked up on the first ring.
“I’m at Nick’s office. Your sister just killed Billy.”
“Her husband?”
“I guess she couldn’t wait for the divorce. Nick isn’t here. Where would she have taken him?”
“Oh, God, let me think. Here? No, I can’t imagine. I really don’t know, but please find them—”
“I intend to. And call me if you hear from her.” I hung up.
An idea came to me, but I needed to act quickly before the office became an official crime scene. Nick told me he had a file cabinet at his office and home. I looked around, and when I found it, rummaged through the files until I found what I wanted.
In the distance, the sirens blared. I’d previously gone through Janice Brandt’s file at Nick’s apartment, but now I was looking for anything I’d missed before. I skipped several pages. I had already read that Janice admitted to Nick that she was sleeping with her best friend’s husband. I now knew it was Amanda’s husband, Billy. Janice had been vulnerable from a past relationship, and he came on to her.
My brain took in as much as possible as the sirens roared in the distance. I wiped sweat from my brow and read faster, hoping for something new.
I stopped, frustrated. Nothing shot out at me, and after a few moments, I flipped to the end of the file where Janice promised Nick she was ready to confess her affair and beg her friend’s forgiveness, which he encouraged her to do. I wondered if she told Billy of her intention. If so, he might have tried to stop her. Did he encourage her to take an overdose? Or did he do it himself?
Shivers shot down my spine. But what had Nick done to deserve retribution? The meds? Amanda must have blamed Nick for being Janice’s druggist. So where would Amanda be taking Nick for his punishment? I looked at the obituary once more and made a judgment call.
As the cops approached the door, I stuck the file back.
“In here,” I called out, shutting the drawer.
A perfect storm by accident? Elizabeth had begun a relationship with Amanda’s best friend’s therapist. That must have set her off and accelerated her intentions.
A real mental case.
“I’m opening the door,” I called out, and when I did, Detective Walker’s stiff expression told me I was in deep shit.
“Nice to see you again, Hank.”
Thirty-Seven
I rushed through events with Walker and promised to call later. He wasn’t happy and pointed to the door.
Amanda would be long gone unless she had a plan, and my concern was that her plan was to kill Nick. Desperate, I went with my gut, and as I pulled out of the parking lot, a text message came in. It was my guardian angel instructing me to drive to the Evergreen Cemetery in Fort Lauderdale. He included the section and gravesite.
My gut was right.
I punched the information into my GPS, and a minute later, I was driving through local streets, and in less than twenty minutes, reached the cemetery. Inside, I worked my way around until I found the section. The cemetery had few visitors, and none of the cars looked like Amanda’s. I emerged from the car, and in the distance, saw a man sitting on the grass in front of a headstone, his head bent, as if he was praying.
I looked around and saw a woman heading toward the guy. From my vantage point she looked like Amanda, same shape and hair. I ran and called out Nick’s name, forgetting cemetery noise etiquette. The woman turned and frowned. Not Amanda.
Nick’s head turned to my voice, and he glanced over his shoulder and smiled.
“Are you okay?” I said, reaching him. At the corner of my eye, I watched the woman kneeling at a gravesite twenty feet away. Sorry about that.
Back to Nick, I looked for signs of a struggle, but he appeared unhurt.
As he nodded, tears streamed down his face. I sat opposite him on the freshly cut grass and waited for him to speak.
He sighed. “I should have visited her before. I’m so sorry, Janice.”
My eyes did a quick search around. “How did you get here?”
He squeezed his eyes. “She called herself Amanda, said she was Elizabeth’s twin sister. I didn’t know she had one. She was very nice and told me she’d come back once she finished her chores.”
Finishing chores was an understatement.
“I’m assuming she told you she was Elizabeth when she arrived at the hospital.”
He nodded slowly. “She told me the truth when we got here. She said she wanted to visit a friend. I didn’t know we were going to see Janice. I asked how she knew her. That’s when she told me her real name and told me Janice was her good friend, and she knew I was her therapist.” He looked at the gray-bronze headstone and wiped his eyes. “She was so young.”
I read over at the dates and nodded. “She was. But it wasn’t your fault, Nick. It was Amanda’s husband. She was having an affair with him.”
“She—Amanda, told me she was angry when Janice took her life. She first blamed me for prescribing antidepressants. I can’t prescribe medication because I’m not a psychiatrist, so I referred one to her, but that’s not the point. The idea came from me. I swore I didn’t know she would take so many at one time. There were no red flags. I then told her Janice intended on telling her about the affair and to ask for forgiveness.” He picked up a blade of grass, felt the texture, and tossed it on the ground.
“Did she?” I asked, knowing. “Forgive her?”
Nick pulled another blade of grass from the ground, played with it, and continued. “Janice died before she had a chance. During our last session, she said she needed more time to build up courage. I told her she’d make the decision at the right time.” He paused, dropped the strand of grass on the ground.
Nick continued. “When I told Amanda, she cried, and then forgave me. She realized I had Janice’s best interests at heart. But then she became upset and told me she had to leave but would return.”
“She’s not coming back, Nick. Not today, not ever.”
“Oh.” His expression turned to confusion. “How did you know I was here?”
I smiled. “You have a guardian angel.”
I called Elizabeth and told her to meet us at Nick’s apartment. She arrived first and waved as we pulled up. Nick smiled and waved back. I spent an hour with them, making sure Nick was okay. He had made progress over the past few days, and ironically, I believed his meeting with Amanda had helped.
I took Elizabeth aside and asked how Detective Walker’s visit had turned out.
“He wanted to see my scar, just like you.” She chuckled. “I guess the fall years ago helped.”
Indeed, it had. “And that you were no longer a suspect.”
She nodded. “He told me he viewed the security tapes, and based on your statement, accepted my alibi.” She sighed hard. “Thank you, Hank, for getting me out of this mess.” She sighed again. “But how will I ever deal with Amanda’s action
s?”
“You will in time,” I assured. “Right now, you and Nick need to work out your future together.”
She nodded, glanced into the next room. “I’d like to get to know him a lot more. From there, who knows? He needs to get better, and I want to help with that too.”
I told her the police might call or pay her a visit every now and then until they found Amanda. “Be truthful.”
She nodded. “Promise. This is my chance,” she said, then laughed softly.
I looked inside. “Take care of Nick.”
I walked into the next room and sat beside him. “I think you and Elizabeth have something real.”
He nodded. “It’s been a crazy time for me, but I’m a positive guy. I feel a little stronger than yesterday, and hopefully stronger tomorrow. Thanks for finding her.” He smiled. “She wasn’t made up, Hank. I’m glad you see that now.” He shook my hand. “Best to JR.”
I stood outside Nick’s building feeling hopeful life would work out for the couple. My Uber driver arrived in ten minutes, and I hopped in the back seat.
The driver turned to me. “You requested Fort Lauderdale Beach, right?”
I smiled. “Where else would I go in January?”
Last-minute hotel rooms were scarce, but for an exorbitant price, I found one directly across from the beach. I purchased a bathing suit from the hotel’s gift shop, and in ten minutes, I was breathing in moist, briny air. I found a bar on the corner and ordered a much-needed drink. The bartender returned with my beer, and I took a slug. Then another. I checked the beach area. I could get used to South Florida.
Finishing my brew, I strolled along the beach, mulling still unfinished business: the text guy. If only I knew who he was. But some things in life can’t be solved.
A half-hour into wading in the water, my cell chirped. The glare from the sun blocked the incoming text, so I shielded the phone.
It’s not over, friend.
Now? Damn, I was just getting used to this. When he didn’t continue, I punched in, What’s not over?
Amanda.
Who the hell are you??
The Edge of Murder (A Hank Reed Mystery, Book 3) Page 18
