by Lucia Kuhl
"You and Vito are both supposed to be in Abracadabra under protective custody. What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to check on Lizzie."
"We have these things called telephones to do that. You think Lizzie has something to do with her father's death too." It wasn't a question, and I wasn't used to having my gift turned around on me.
Blake opened my car door.
"Go home. Stay safe. Trust me to investigate this properly. Please, I don't make the money you do, but I'm good, great even, at what I do. And don’t hate me if you don’t like the results.”
I got in the car. Vito climbed behind the wheel. Blake watched us pull out of the driveway and followed us most of the way home.
CHAPTER 29
Vito opened the door to Michiana Major Crimes Task Force Headquarters. The energy in the place was stifling. How could anyone work in here? Fear, anger, and frustration were the dominant energies floating around the room. It would take a week with the windows and doors open to rid all the negativity and fifty acres of plants to keep it cleaned. No wonder my brother was always depressed.
Arie met us, right inside the door. It was like he knew we were coming. We'd gone home to make Blake happy, let Sampson out to play, and then when the coast was clear, Vito and I drove here.
"You can't be here," Arie said with his feet planted wide apart and his hands on his hips.
"First of all, you should have learned long ago, telling me I can't do something means I will. Second, I don't need to be in the interrogation room. I just want Lizzie to know she has friends." Surely, he could understand my need to help a friend wrongly questioned for murder.
"Part of the interrogation process is to make people uncomfortable, so they'll spill what they know."
Duh!!!
"I get that. Trust me. I've been in an interrogation room or two. And it would have been nice to have someone waiting for me when I came out."
"You could have called,” he huffed standing over me.
"Fine, you are right. I could have called. But we aren't talking about me. We are talking about Lizzie."
Vito stepped between us like we were small children.
"Son, just let us warm a couple of chairs. We won't get into any trouble."
"Fine, you can take those two chairs, but at the first sign of trouble, you are both out of here. I'll throw you out personally for embarrassing me."
"Have we ever embarrassed you in the past?" I asked in jest.
"Only every other day during my youth."
"And see how well you turned out," Vito said, taking a chair.
An hour later, a man in a suit knocked on the door asking for Lizzie. When Arie told him she was busy, the man handed Arie a paper. Before he would accept it, Arie opened the form. His shoulders drooped.
"Well, spit it out."
"Lizzie's husband. These are divorce papers asking for full custody of their daughter."
Wow, that was quick. Sadness and disgust warred inside me.
"I knew I didn't like that rat," Vito said.
How many times had Mom and Vito been divorced and remarried? It got to the point I'd lost track, but they never tried to pit us against the other parent. Never.
"When did you meet Charles?" I asked.
"I may have been listening when he was at your house."
So, Vito was my backup. Always in the shadows.
"See, this is why we are here," I said to Arie. "To help Lizzie when you are done questioning her."
"Somehow, I never saw you two in the role of guardian angels," Arie said before his phone rang. He walked into another room.
"No way, Lizzie is guilty," I said to Vito. "But being questioned doesn't look good for a custody hearing. Something smells rotten."
"I agree. The next time I divorce your mom, I want his lawyer. I've never gotten divorce papers served that fast, and I have connections."
"So, are you two married now?"
"I think so. I've lost track."
Was he kidding? Probably not. It was best not to go down that rabbit hole right now.
I leaned over and whispered in Dad's ear.
"It is time we figured out who is behind this murder and took them down. I know that's Blake and Arie's job, but a little push wouldn't hurt."
"Somehow, daughter, I don't think Arie would agree. But what they don't know won't hurt us."
CHAPTER 30
Five hours later, we left the Task Force office. I tried to talk Lizzie into coming home with me, but she insisted she needed to get back to Raymont Manor to be with her daughter and call her attorney.
Vito and I offered to drive her. In the end, Arie drove all of us to The Manor. I spent most of the trip with my right arm around her and my left-hand drawing tissues from a box and placing them in her hand. At times her body shook with tears of despair. I wanted to wrap my hands around Charles's neck and squeeze. Why didn't the serial killer take out Charles instead of Mr. Raymont?
There was a lot more to the story. Lizzie had said Charles didn't hurt her physically, but he had other ways of hurting her. Those ways had something to do with Evie. Lizzie seemed to fear for Evie’s safety. Although, she didn't come out and say so.
As we drove up the lane to Raymont Manor, I could feel Lizzie's body tighten. Her head moved from side to side, searching for I assumed Charles’s car. When Arie’s SUV stopped, Lizzie opened the car door and flew up the front doorsteps. Using her key, she opened the door and ran inside. We ran after her.
"Evie,"
"Evie, where are you?"
Vito, Arie, and I followed through the opened doorway.
"Evie, anybody."
A woman dressed in a red pantsuit came into the foyer.
"Jane, where is Evie?"
"As soon as the policeman took you away for questioning, Charles and Evie left. I heard him talking on the phone. They were headed back to New York City."
Lizzie slumped, and Arie caught her on her way to the floor. At that moment, I knew the murder had not been about me. It had everything to do with the dynamics of Lizzie Raymont Makey's family. One thing bothered me, were all those bodies on the West Coast cover for Mr. Raymont's? Or was this a copycat? Probably a copycat because they'd left out the picture and bones.
My name nor my companies name had not appeared anywhere. So, was this just a lucky copycat? Every part of my being said. No. The fact that Charles knew my boss’s wife pointed all the evidence at Charles.
Arie carried Lizzie into a bedroom not far from the foyer, and Jane called Mr. Raymont's doctor for Lizzie. As Jane and I sat with Lizzie waiting for the doctor to arrive, that sense or feeling or whatever it was of being in two places at once invaded my reality. While my butt was in the chair holding Lizzie’s hand, the rest of my body was in the study watching Vito shuffle papers on Mr. Raymont’s desk. He methodically and silently opened and closed file drawers before opening Mr. Raymont’s computer. Was Vito behind the murder? Was he clearing away evidence? No, not with Arie standing guard at the front door. Vito wouldn’t do that to Arie or me. At least, I didn’t think he would.
Two hours later, a patrol car was parked outside Raymont Manor. The doctor had arrived and given Lizzie a sedative. He guaranteed she’d be out for the night and most of the morning. Jane, who'd introduced herself as Mr. Raymont's assistant, said she'd stay with Lizzie for the night. Lizzie seemed comfortable with her—more relaxed than she had with me—so we left.
CHAPTER 31
Earlier, I'd run inside Raymont Manor so concerned for Lizzie; I hadn't noticed the energy inside. But as I left, the word that came to mind was relief. Immense relief. My body's energy field had been on overdrive, protecting itself.
Vito held the SUV's door. I stumbled a bit, climbing inside. Dad caught me.
"Faith, are you alright?" his voice softened with concern.
"Yes, the energy of a place usually affects me upon entry. I ran in so fast; it got me on the way out."
"What did you feel?" Arie asked.
Arie asking about feelings. That’s a new one.
"Immense relief."
"Yeah, me too. I was never so glad to get out of a place in my life. And I've seen some horrible things."
"Wow, I didn't think."
"That I was sensitive," Arie finished my sentence.
"I was going to be nicer, but yeah, that about sums up my thought."
“We will talk about my newfound sensitivity another time.” His voice was softer, almost breaking with emotion. I trusted. He intended to keep his word. But it wasn’t a topic for today.
Vito seated himself in the back. The question is, did the manor feel that way before Lizzie and her family arrived or after. I didn't go inside the last time I was here. My intuition said Lizzie’s family brought the darkness to Raymont Manor.
“What did you two find? I know you searched the place?"
"I don't know what you are talking about," Arie said, pulling onto the road.
"Yeah, right. Spit it out."
The two of them exchanged looks.
"Just tell me."
"Okay. There may have been something in Mr. Raymont's desk drawer. It appears Lizzie was in and out of rehab for five years. She's been clean for two. About the time she said she and her dad reconnected."
It was hard for me to believe that the bright, chipper, fun-loving Lizzie I knew could be an addict.
"She didn't tell me about that." Regret filled my senses. If she were in trouble, I would have been there for her. But how would she know that? I hadn’t reached out. I had been so busy traveling from one town to another. And I understood. We can talk about our physical ailments, but our mental anguish stays hidden. I hadn't told my family about all the anxiety I'd been feeling lately. It was doing strange things to me. Like I couldn't calm down. Even meditation didn't seem to help.
"Did you find anything else useful?"
Vito leaned forward in his seat.
"Maybe, I rifled around. It seems Mr. Raymont had been keeping tabs on Charles. He had a private investigator. Problem is I couldn't find the P.I.'s report."
"You think Charles got to it."
"If he knew it existed. He may have spotted a tail or something."
"There was also an empty file on Evie. Somebody took the papers out of there."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because they left the file on top of Raymont's desk. Like they were cleaning things out in a hurry. The whole room had that sort of feel to it."
My anxiety was starting to rear its ugly head. Its favorite way to do that was to shut my brain down. It's like I'd hear information, and a warning would go off in my head.
"Does not compute," it would say. I had learned to back away and come back at it from another angle.
"There's too much stuff in my brain. I need a whiteboard."
Arie turned onto the highway.
"I've got one at HQ."
"No, I had all of the HQ energy I can stand for one day. I've got one in my office at home. And home is closer." Funny how quickly I'd begun to think of my house as home. I was once again Faith Bracken of Abracadabra.
"I didn't realize you set up an office."
"I needed something to do to get rid of my anxiety. Arranging things helps. Makes me feel more in control."
There I'd said it. I had trouble with anxiety.
"With all you've been through," said Arie, "I'm surprised you don't have PTSD—the non-combat type."
I hadn't thought of that. I'd have to google it when I was alone.
CHAPTER 32
We'd swung by the Task Force HQ and picked up Vito's car. He pulled in behind Arie and me.
Arie swung his car door shut and followed me towards the house.
"Sampson will be glad to see you. I had Tiffany come over and let him out. There's a key for your house at the Garden Center. Sampson has gotten used to you spoiling him."
Was that a backhanded compliment from my brother? Did he approve of my pet owner skills?
It was odd to think of myself as a pet owner. I'd been on the road for years. I couldn't even keep fish because someone else would have needed to feed them.
"That's a good thing, right? It's been a while since I had a pet. Thought maybe I was losing my touch."
I opened the door to fake snow everywhere. Sampson had broken through the baby gate and attacked a couch.
"Hope it wasn't an expensive one," Arie said, laughing.
"No, I was going to donate it. Guess I don't have to worry about doing that now."
"I think Sampson handled that problem for you," Vito said, petting my mischievous puppy. Remind me to move Doggie School to the top of my to-do list.
I showed Sampson the couch and the pile of fluff and patted his little behind, which he liked. So much for reprimanding him. I tapped my finger to his nose. "No. No"
In response, he wiggled his little butt.
"Oh, Sampson, I hope you don’t flunk obedience school." And then I remembered the pet store flyer. “How long before the pet store opens in Abracadabra?”
“May 1st,” Arie said.
“Oh, I don’t know if Sampson can wait that long.”
Vito placed his hand on my shoulder.
“Sampson can. You can’t.”
He was right. I wouldn’t have a house left if I waited that long. However, it wasn’t Sampson’s fault. He was doing what came naturally. I needed time to focus on him. Teach him the ropes of his new life.
"Who is with Mom? I hope Tiffany hasn't had her all this time."
"Your mother has a helper," Vito said. "Trixie enjoys working in the Garden Center. The smells, the customers, and the textures. She's fine."
Vito loved Trixie. He had forever, but the two of them didn't seem able to live with one another under the same roof. While his words said she was fine, his drooping shoulders and tilted head said he was filled with concern.
"Okay, well, do you two want some coffee?"
"I thought you would never ask." Vito walked over and grabbed a cup from the cupboard. How did he know where to look? I didn’t need to know the answer.
I started coffee going and found a tin of cinnamon rolls I'd purchased yesterday before I met Lizzie for lunch." Putting them on a plate, I carried them into the office.
Once the coffee was made, I picked up a marker. It was time to get down to business and get this investigation behind us. I had a flower farm to plant. I'd grown up in a garden center. I knew how to grow things. But in the garden center, we grew plants which produced flowers. A flower farm produced the flowers—different steps in the distribution channel. Although we did have a tree farm, maybe it wasn't quite that different, but there was a lot for me to know. I needed this investigation done. Out of here. Gone. Although, there was a downside to that. I wouldn't have a reason to see Blake. And I was getting kind of used to seeing Blake. Hmm.
My marker touched the whiteboard, and I started writing.
"Okay, here's what we know so far."
I drew a line down the middle of the board.
"The West Coast Murders were always on my schedule several days in advance." I put that under the West Coast Murders as I had been calling them.
"And the killer always left my photo and a bag of little bones."
"You said Mr. Raymont's Murder didn't get scheduled until the night before. There was no picture and no bones." Arie added. I wrote those two points on the board.
"The West Coast Murders were always paid for with the victim's corporate card. Mr. Raymont's consult was paid for with a throwaway card," I said as I wrote.
"How did you know that?" Vito asked.
"I have a trusted friend in I.T. at my old company."
Vito crossed the room to fill his coffee cup.
"Somehow, Charles knew about your connection to those murders. And somehow, he knew Blake had Lizzie at Task Force Headquarters."
"Someone took a shot at you, Harvey, or Lizzie right outside a police station. That takes guts, arrogance, and skill. I’m no
t sure Charles has the background," Arie said. "He could have hired someone. I guess."
Harvey. I'd almost forgotten about him. A few days ago, he was always on my mind.
"How is Harvey, by the way?"
Arie grabbed another cinnamon roll.
"He's doing good. He should be out of the hospital in a day or two."
Hopefully, by the time Harvey was back in working condition, we'd have this case and all the other cases wrapped up in a neat little bow. Harvey could find someone else to haunt.
"Someone was raiding the Raymont accounts and then taking that money out in NY at ATMs. Someone who was trying to disguise themselves to look like Lizzie,” Vito said.
Arie raised his eyebrows. He either didn't have this info, or he didn't know we did.
"Lizzie reunited with her father, and her visits to rehab stopped," he added.
"Apparently, Mr. Raymont knew about the rehab visits. He'd hired a P.I. to follow Charles." Vito said.
They were talking faster than I could write. I had to wonder if the rehab visits stopped because Lizzie now had someone in her corner. The lone wolf against the world might make great movies, but it was nice to know people loved you and had your back.
"Lizzie said that my boss, the third victim, was Charles's client. That his wife, Linda, told him about the murders."
"Faith,” Arie said, letting Sampson in, "when you were late arriving at your clients' houses, you said you texted them. But then you said you didn't have their personal information. So how did that work?”
"Well, I obviously had their addresses and names. If I was going to be late, I sent a text to Bonnie, our scheduler. Bonnie called the client.”
"It feels like there is one more piece of the puzzle missing." It was floating around in a hazy wave state just outside my reach, but I couldn't grab it and turn it into form.
As I realized that, Blake pulled into the driveway.
"Should we hide the whiteboard?"
I wanted him to trust me. I realized a piece of me wanted to pursue whatever was between us. Did he feel it? My gut said yes.
