On Borrowed Crime

by Kate Young

  Oh. Those pictures. “I just took possession of the pictures the day he was arrested. I asked Kevin, and he admitted to the arguments and losing his temper, but he swears he wasn’t the one I saw in the car with her.”

  She scoffed. “You saw him in the camo hat that day, for God’s sake. You found the same hat in your trash. Add that to the images where he’s threatening Carol while wearing it, and we have a slam dunk.”

  “It seems like a slam dunk.”

  “Look. I get it. He’s attractive and is good at sweet-talking vulnerable women. I don’t blame you or Ellen. But we’re talking about murder here.”

  I sat up. “He claims there’s evidence to exonerate him.” But if he was counting on what I found, he’d be out of luck. They were more damning than anything else. He was the one that told me they existed. I could see Val’s point. It just didn’t feel right.

  “And you believed him? Ha! So, where is it? This evidence?”

  “I don’t know.” It wasn’t a complete lie. What I found wouldn’t help his case.

  “Exactly. The point is that whatever Kevin told you is bullshit. He wants you to stand by him at the trial. Don’t let him manipulate you. Let’s make a pact. Here and now. Whatever you find out about any of this, you’ll tell me. And I’ll do the same for you. We’ll keep each other strong. For Carol.”

  “Okay.” I agreed, even though I was already breaking the pact. With all the gossip flying around town, I needed to safeguard what I’d found. Val knew her mind better than anyone I’d ever met. The expression “Not always right but never in doubt” came to mind when I thought of my friend. She didn’t let her ignorance of any subject cloud her strong opinions. She’d already convicted Kevin. Maybe he was guilty. Maybe he wasn’t. After tonight, and what I’d found and the way Judge Timms had behaved, my thoughts were in such a tumult I could scarcely find my way to a coherent one.

  “Okay.” She went silent, then sighed. “’Night.”

  “’Night.”

  * * *

  The next morning, I sat in the office, gathering together all the evidence I had in my possession. I’d called Brad and left an urgent message. I was ready to deliver what I’d found. My mind felt sharper after a few hours of sleep. I needed to delve into the nitty-gritty of the case. I thought of Ellen and our complicated relationship. How could the Jane Doe get her necklace? Had she given it to her? Pawned it? Had I been wrong, and the necklaces weren’t custom-made? Could she stoop so low as to be a killer’s accomplice?

  First things first. The necklace. Only one way to find out if Ellen still had hers. I blew out a breath and called her.

  “Lyla.”

  “Ellen. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Will it help Kevin?” She sounded tense.

  “It could. You remember the necklace Grandmother gave us when we were younger? The one she had special made?”

  “I don’t understand what this has to do with anything.”

  I heard voices in the background. “Do you have company?”

  “No … um, it’s the TV.” It didn’t sound like the TV. “What about the angel necklace?”

  “I just wondered if you still have yours.”

  “I don’t know … Oh, wait! It was stolen. I had it at the alumnae bonfire. Yeah, that’s right. I took it off and put it in my purse. My purse was stolen.”

  “What about your majorette scarf?”

  “I have no idea what happened to that ugly ole thing. What does this have to do with Kevin?”

  “Maybe nothing. Thanks for answering my questions.”

  “You’re a terrible PI.” The call dropped. The truce must have ended without my knowledge. Could the Jane Doe have bought the necklace at a pawn shop? Or had she stolen it from Ellen?

  Feeling way out of my depth, I needed more answers. I picked up my cell and dialed Brad’s number. “Jones here.”

  “Brad, this is Lyla.”

  “Oh, hey, I was just about to call you back. You disappeared last night without a word.”

  Was I detecting a bit of irritation or suspicion in his tone? I was getting way too paranoid.

  “I know—I had to get out of there. But I’m reaching out now, and we need to talk in person and soon. I found something at the Timms’s residence I believe you need to see.”

  “You didn’t search without permission …”

  “No! I asked Judge Timms if I could look through Carol’s things. Well, I found something the police missed. Something big.” I took a breath. “I found pictures of your Jane Doe. And Brad, these pictures aren’t just the skeletal remains. They were taken in progression as the body decomposed for years.”

  “Where are these pictures now?”

  “I have them. They’re on a flash drive.”

  “Okay. I’m in Atlanta, attempting to gain a court order from a judge to allow me to be the lead on the case in Sweet Mountain.”

  “Quinn said you were already working the case together.”

  He snorted, and I felt ill. “I’ll call you the second I’m back in town. Do not, and I repeat, do not share what you’ve found with the local police or anyone else. And go somewhere you’ll be safe.”

  Of all the things he could’ve said, that last part was the most frightening.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  With shaky hands, I locked up the office and checked both ways, waiting to cross the street. A hand gripped my arm, I screamed and nearly leaped out of my skin, scaring an elderly couple as they were walking past. “I’m so sorry,” I managed to get out, thankful I hadn’t given the couple heart attacks.

  I turned to see Melanie with giant eyes and her hand over her mouth. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you. I called your name.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not okay. Things are spiraling way out of control, Mel. I’m in way over my head.”

  Melanie took my arm and guided me across the street, toward my car. “What’s happened? I mean, you said you didn’t find anything. Did you tell me the truth?”

  I ran my hand through my frizzing hair. I’d not even taken the time to flat-iron it this morning or dress appropriately. I’d thrown on a pair of yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and running shoes. “I found something. Something a-awful, Mel,” I stuttered. “Kevin called me last night, still swearing he’s innocent, but he knew about the rhyme. And the Jane Doe had Ellen’s necklace,” I rambled on, so fast I had a hard time keeping up with myself. “This killer among us isn’t what we thought. He’s … he’s meticulous. He enjoyed watching his Jane Doe decompose.” Which was why I didn’t buy my cousin’s involvement. She was neither meticulous nor clever.

  “Hold on. Slow down. I can hardly understand you.” Mel gripped my shoulders. “Lyla. You don’t look so good. You’re wild-eyed.”

  I thought of Carol and how she was perceived, and no freaking wonder! This case would make anyone go a little mad. I tried to sound calmer. “You were right last night to be concerned. Did I tell you that Carol filed a complaint against Kevin a couple of weeks back because he threatened her?”

  “Yes.” Mel said slowly, drawing out the word.

  I felt jittery, like I couldn’t stand still.

  “And now they’ve upped the charges to manslaughter. Because they discovered new evidence.”

  I nodded.

  She leaned closer to me as some pedestrians walked to their cars. “Let’s try and keep our voices down.”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek and vehemently shook my head, my hair flying about my face. If I told Melanie about the pictures, would I be putting her in harm’s way? “I haven’t a clue what to think. The special agent is trying to get a court order to take over the case.”

  “Right?”

  “The weird thing about that is Quinn told me last night he was working with Brad.” I raised my brows and lifted my shoulders. “Then a minute ago, Brad instructed me not to trust the Sweet Mountain Police. And not to share—” I stopped talking before I said too much.

  Mel’s
eyes narrowed. “Why do I get the feeling you’re hiding something from me?”

  “Because I am. And you have to trust me on the reasons why I can’t share. I’m going home and locking myself inside until Brad contacts me. Then I’m turning everything over to him and stepping away from this.”

  Mel hugged me tightly. “You’re trembling.”

  “I’m in way over my head, Mel. People in this town are batshit.” Including me!

  “Okay, listen to me, Lyla Jane Moody,” Melanie said sternly, taking me by the arms. “You go straight home. I’m going back inside and wrapping things up. I’d leave now, but there’s no one to finish for the day. I’ll close up the second I can and come over. Don’t open the door to anyone you don’t know. We’ll eat junk food and drink wine and wait for that special agent to get there.”

  I didn’t say what weighed heavily on me, though. What if someone got to me before Brad did? It could be anyone.

  “You can do this. Say it.”

  “I … I can do this.”

  I steeled my nerves after I started the engine. Rubbing my forehead and my tingling face, I drove home, following the speed limit and keeping a close eye on my rearview mirror. Brad must’ve had a reason to want me to hide out until he got back, and that scared the pants off me. My phone rang through my speaker, and I shrieked. I didn’t recognize the number and let it roll to voicemail.

  After barricading myself inside the house, I went on autopilot. I took out Calvin’s gun, set it on the bar, then pulled my hair up in a ponytail and checked my watch. How long would it take for Brad to get back here? And when he did and I turned everything over, would that be the end for me? I decided I wouldn’t speak to Kevin again. Not until Brad took over the investigation and had a chance to interview him. And if he didn’t get the court order, I planned on taking a long trip to someplace tropical. Far, far away from Sweet Mountain and the killer. I was beginning to doubt my judgment, and it made me feel unstable. Yes, that was the plan. I could still research from the beach. I’d be safe and could still affect the case for Carol and the Jane Does.

  I went to the kitchen to get a glass of wine. I didn’t care what time it was. When I rounded the bar, I froze. Something wasn’t right here. My canisters weren’t in the right place. Sugar was spilled all over the counter. I turned slowly. The cushions on my couch were thrown onto the floor. The dining chairs were all turned over. The bookshelf empty. My books were in a heap in front of it.

  My heart was in my throat as I grabbed the gun with shaky hands. My breathing felt erratic as I slowly went up the stairs and down the hallway with my gun ready. I peeked inside my bathroom, thankful to find no one there. The hallway was littered with my clothing and dresser drawers. Slowly, ever so slowly, I pushed the door to my bedroom open with the barrel of the gun. I gasped.

  My mattress had been shredded with a knife. Feathers from my pillows had drifted all over the room. I fell to my knees, trembling as I took in the wall behind my bed. The same picture of the Jane Doe Book Club was secured to the wall by a knife in my face. A tiny hangman’s noose hung from the knife. Written underneath in a red marker was Naughty little Jane. Turn over the pictures. One little Jane Doe left all alone; she went and hanged herself and then there were none.

  “Oh no, no, no!” Who knew about the pictures other than Brad … Kevin did. How did someone get inside my house?

  With shaky hands, I took a picture and sent it to Brad.

  I scrambled to my feet, tossed the envelope and flash drive in my shoulder bag, and ran out the front door to my car. I was going to FedEx the pictures to Brad. That’s when Ellen came flying out her front door with mascara running down her cheeks along with big giant tears.

  She tried to open my car door, but I was vehemently shaking my head as I started the engine. “Lyla! Open the door!” Ellen’s voice shook. “My mother’s been in an accident, and they’ve airlifted her to Grady.”

  I froze, putting the car back into park.

  She openly sobbed.

  “Oh my God.” My hand went to my heart. If they’d felt the need to airlift Aunt Elizabeth to the best trauma center in the state, her injuries must be horrific.

  “Will you drive me?” Ellen broke down, and seeing her in such a state, I managed to snap out of my panic.

  “Did you see what happened to my house?”

  Her face was a picture of shock. “What? “What’s wrong with you? They’re not sure if she’s going to m-make it.” She went around to the passenger side and I let her in. I could handle this. Then I’d leave. I embraced my cousin, who sobbed on my shoulder, thanking me for my help.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  With the directions to Grady Memorial punched into the GPS, we were on our way. “What happened?”

  Ellen continued to wipe her eyes, but her sobs had ceased. “A car accident. All I know is it’s bad. Can we not talk for a bit. I’m just … I’m …”

  I reached over and patted her arm. “Of course.”

  We rode for a long while in silence. Then Ellen’s phone kept going off. She didn’t share who was calling and texting her like crazy. Then it occurred to me she’d not mentioned telling my mother about the accident.

  “Did you call Mother?”

  Ellen glanced out the window, still in shock, I guessed, and shook her head.

  “It’s okay. I’ll call her. She needs to be there.” I hit the button on the steering column. “Call mother, ho—” Before I could finish, Ellen disconnected my phone on the screen.

  When I opened my mouth to argue, she pulled a gun from her bag and held it on me. I couldn’t help the long blink. Her mother hadn’t been in an accident. It was all a ruse to get me to come with her—something I wouldn’t ever have done otherwise. I’d ultimately tipped my hand when I inquired about the necklace. Only someone in our family would’ve been able to identify it. Ellen and I had always been at odds. Sure, she was the queen of mean, but never in a million years would I have believed she was capable of murder.

  “You need to reach into your bag and hand over those pictures.” She jabbed the muzzle into my side.

  I slid my hand into the bag I kept pressed against the driver’s side door. It had been a subconscious action. I usually tossed my bag in the passenger’s seat. I pulled the bubble mailer from it and slid my phone inside. With my finger, I pushed the Bluetooth connection off so that it wouldn’t connect to the car. Then I hit the call button. It would contact the last person I’d dialed—Brad.

  I passed it over to Ellen, who didn’t even look inside.

  There was a manic look in her eyes. “Take I-85.”

  Oh, sweet Lord. I did as she bade me.

  “Why, Ellen? I don’t understand why? Are you doing this for Kevin?”

  “Yes. Now drop your watch into your purse and toss it out the window.” She was smarter than she looked. I slipped the watch into my bag and tossed my lovely Kate Spade bag out the window.

  “You don’t have to do this. It isn’t too late. I can turn around, and we’ll forget this ever happened.” I cast a glance at my fidgeting cousin, her eyes dark from smeared mascara. I considered driving off the side of the road and wrecking the car to try to get free, but the way her hand shook on that trigger, I feared I’d be a goner.

  “I do have to! I love him. I’d do anything for him. I’ve always loved him, unlike you, who used him and threw him away when you were done. He’s too kind-hearted for his own good. Believes that this will all work itself out in the end. That you’ll do whatever it takes to free him.” She shook her head. “He doesn’t know you at all. The only thing you did was call me and ask about the necklace.”

  “So it wasn’t stolen then?” If I could get her to make some sort of confession on record while Brad was on the phone, it’d give them time to trace us. I just prayed he was on the line.

  She stared at me like I was a fool. “Of course it was stolen. Just like I told you. Get off at the next exit.”

  My heart hammered away in my chest
. I knew exactly where we were going. I slowed down to the speed limit of thirty-five miles an hour and followed the winding road around the little vacant Baptist church, praying that Brad would soon follow.

  “You really are a horrible PI. I don’t know why Uncle Calvin keeps you on.”

  “Technically, I’m just a receptionist with hopes of becoming an actual partner in the firm,” I said in a shaky voice. “I’m learning.”

  She snorted. “Everything was right in front of you, and you never saw it. Now you’ll see!” She shook the gun too close to my face. “I had to do something. I couldn’t just let Kevin rot away in a cell forever.”

  “Right.” I nodded with my eyes wide. “I get it. You love him. We do crazy things for love. But I’m your freaking cousin!”

  We rounded another bend, overcrowded with a cluster of tall pine trees covered with poison ivy. She pointed to the left side of the woodsy area. “You never liked me. Pull into the tree line. And slowly get out of the car.”

  It was so overgrown out here that unless you were hunting our signal, no one would ever find me. The keys rattled as I turned off the engine. I got out of the vehicle. My mind filled with pleas, escape plans, and doubt. What was I missing? Surely my cousin wouldn’t kill me. “What did I miss, Ellen?”

  “Walk,” she barked, with the mailer in her hand. She hadn’t seemed to notice the phone inside. She glanced around at her feet.

  Ellen wasn’t an outdoorsy kind of gal. She didn’t run or hike. There I had the advantage. If I timed it correctly, I could easily get the jump on her and make a run for it.

  “The suitcase was your big clue. But that went right over your head.” She stumbled over a log and went down, taking me down with her and I heard a distinct crack as her knee hit the log. “Ouch!”

  I started to scramble to my feet, but she shouted with the gun against my shoulder, “I’ll shoot you, Lyla! Just stay there. Give me a second.”

  Blood welled from her pant leg and she kicked at a dirty mason jar covered in leaves and dirt inside the log. There was something inside it! Mel had been right! A message in a bottle—or in this case, a mason jar! My heart thundered in my ears. I grabbed it, turned my back to Ellen, and twisted open the lid.