Evil Never Dies (The Lizzy Gardner Series Book 6)

by T. R. Ragan

  Against her will, the image of Wayne Bennett rose up in her mind, and she prayed what she’d just said was true.

  When Lizzy walked into the house a few hours later, there was lots of chatter. Hayley and Kitally had returned.

  Betty Ackley, the woman Kitally had been working with at Shady Oaks, sat on the couch, fussing over the baby. Kitally and Hayley were there, too. Female names for Salma’s baby were still being tossed out there, everything from Alicia to Zoey, as Salma passed around another Pakistani dish. This one was called besan ladoo. The minute Salma saw Lizzy enter the room, she rushed over to greet her. “So? When is the due date?”

  Lizzy frowned. “How did you know?”

  “I was the one who told Hayley and Kitally that you were pregnant. It was so obvious.”

  The room grew quiet until the only noise was the low rumble of a motor outside. Through the window, Lizzy saw Gus pushing a lawn mower through overgrown grass and weeds.

  Hayley looked at her and said, “So, what’s the verdict?”

  “It appears everyone knew I was pregnant except me. Looks like we’re having a baby.”

  They all let out a cheer of some sort. Kitally rushed over to give her a congratulatory squeeze. “When are you due?”

  “September 5.”

  There was a lot to celebrate that day. They had all played a part in putting away the Sacramento Strangler. For now, citizens of Sacramento could breathe easier again.

  And that wasn’t all. Kitally, Betty, Gus, and the others, had all gathered at the house for a reason. Shady Oaks Nursing Home was going out of business. Stacey Whitmore with Channel 10 News was covering the story.

  Kitally hit Pause on the remote and then ran to the back door and called Gus inside.

  Once everyone was present, Hayley picked up the remote, hit Play, then turned the volume up. “Stacey Whitmore here, reporting from the Shady Oaks Nursing Home in Orangevale.”

  The reporting had been prerecorded.

  Behind Stacey Whitmore, Shady Oaks was crawling with FBI agents.

  “Look,” Kitally said, “they’re bringing Dixie out in handcuffs. She’s being arrested along with the owners and two other orderlies.”

  “After the sudden death of Gus Valentine’s wife,” Stacey Whitmore was saying, “a tip from a resident of Shady Oaks prompted Gus Valentine and an investigator to do some snooping around. What they found prompted state officials to look into the matter. When investigators reviewed the medical records of Helsie Valentine, they determined she had died of ailments often related to poor care, including dehydration and an infected ulcer. Officials have since concluded that former resident Mary Branham’s demise was hastened by the inappropriate administration of antipsychotic drugs, which can have lethal side effects for seniors.

  “The owners and five of their orderlies have declined to speak. The criminal case is ongoing. Health care regulators have already taken action, restricting Shady Oak’s medical license. The federal government is likely to move to fine the home’s owners upwards of half a million dollars.”

  Kitally held up a fist and gave Gus a knuckle bump.

  “You did it, kiddo.”

  “We did it, Gus. You, me, and Betty.”

  Wayne Bennett was hardly recognizable. Detective Chase stood at his bedside and took notes. He tried not to look at the man for too long, as it was hard not to wince at his swollen mess of a face. Bennett had been at Sutter General for days now, but this was the first time the man was able to talk.

  “If you don’t arrest Lizzy Gardner,” Bennett was saying, “I’ll have every one of your boys scrutinized. They won’t be able to bet on a Monday Night Football game with their friends without getting written up. Do you hear me, Chase?”

  “Do you have any proof that Lizzy Gardner was responsible for what happened to you?”

  “I saw her with my own two eyes. Is that proof enough, Detective?”

  “I thought you said your face was covered by a ski mask.”

  Bennett tried to give him a winning smile, but he failed miserably. One of his eyes was swollen shut. His nose had been taped, and his upper lip had been sliced through and then patched up with stitches and tape. His signature flash of straight white teeth was nowhere to be seen. “It was her! I recognized her voice,” Bennett said. He pushed one of the buttons on his bed and told the nurse to get him a painkiller and make it quick.

  He looked back at Chase. “I have security cameras. I’m sure I’ve got all the proof you need, Detective. Just don’t make the same mistake you made in DC.”

  “What’s that?”

  Bennett grimaced in pain. After a moment, he said through gritted teeth, “I know everything about you, Detective. I know why you were demoted, and what good did it do? You knew Mark Falcon owned the police station, but you went after his son anyhow.”

  “His son was bad news.”

  Bennett chuckled. “Yeah, I know. So why was he let out after serving two months of a six-year sentence?”

  Chase kept quiet, let Bennett have his say. What Bennett said was true, but Chase knew he’d done the right thing. He’d do it again. He’d done all he could do to make sure Falcon’s rapist son got a fair trial and was put away. The kid needed to be taught a lesson. But Falcon’s son was released too soon, and Chase was demoted for his efforts. He had refused to play office politics, and that had landed him here in Sacramento.

  “You refused to violate your own sense of morals, and for what?” Bennett said. “You have a lot to learn, Detective. If you want to impress the higher-ups, you’re going to have to impress me first. The guy with the money gets the last say. I’m that guy.”

  “Are you finished?”

  The nurse came in and was about to ask for privacy when Bennett shut her up and told her to just give him the damn shot.

  She folded the sheet over and did as she was told.

  Chase saw a crisscross of deep red welts across his ribs, stomach, and legs. It appeared every part of him had been left with a mark. Even Bennett’s face would more than likely be left with permanent scars.

  There was something very satisfying about seeing how the creep had been brutalized, but at the same time he worried about Lizzy. If she was responsible, and even if she wasn’t, Bennett was going to make her pay for sticking her nose in his business.

  Chase had seen enough. He headed for the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m going home.”

  “We’re not finished here, Detective.”

  “Oh, yes we are. If you have anything more to say, you give me a call and I’ll send someone over.”

  “Get your ass back in here,” Chase heard the man call out as he walked toward the elevator.

  Lizzy wasn’t surprised when she heard from Detective Chase. He told her he had some questions for her, but he wanted her to meet him at his house. He told her lunch would be served, and that she should arrive prepared to eat.

  She figured it was about Bennett. She didn’t have to play detective to discover Bennett was in the hospital with multiple contusions, a fractured wrist, and some internal bleeding. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed. Once Bennett was released, she and the girls would be on red alert. She continued to work with the prosecutor, Grady Orwell. Until Bennett was locked up, nobody was safe. Nobody.

  Lizzy arrived at Chase’s house right on time. When he opened the door to let her in, she couldn’t help but smile at his appearance. Over a pair of beige slacks and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows was a full-length white apron.

  “Looks like you’re doing some serious cooking.”

  “Cooking is serious business. Come on in.”

  Lizzy followed him inside. Everything looked the same as the last time she was here: single-hole golf course where the dining room table should be, television on in the other room. De
tective Chase headed for the kitchen, where he slipped on an oven mitt, opened the oven, and pulled out crusty Italian bread covered in bubbling cheese and tomato sauce—operating entirely with one hand, as he still wore a sling on his left arm.

  “How’s the arm?”

  “It’s been better. It’ll get there. Time to heal is all it needs.”

  “Smells good,” she said.

  “Today we’re having eggplant and mozzarella melt. I hope you like garlic butter and eggplant Parmesan.”

  “It looks delicious.”

  He’d set places for them in front of stools at the kitchen counter. He poured them both a tall glass of cold milk and then sat down next to her and dug in.

  She took a bite. “Delicious. Where did you learn to cook?”

  “Mom. She’s Italian. Best cook in all of New York City.”

  After she’d finished about half of her open sandwich, it had become clear he wasn’t in a hurry to have a conversation about whatever he had called her here to talk about.

  “So, what’s this about? Why am I here, Detective?”

  He washed his last bite down with half a glass of his milk and then used his napkin to wipe his mouth. “OK, I’m feeling better now. I needed that.”

  She waited.

  “It’s about Bennett.”

  “What about him?”

  “I was called to the hospital to take the report. Apparently he was attacked after arriving home from work. He said there were three people working on him, but he only heard two voices. Both female.”

  “Hmm. Interesting.”

  “He was beat up pretty bad. Fractured nose, broken wrist, lacerations deep enough to require over a hundred stitches.”

  “Why are you telling me this? I can’t say he didn’t deserve it.”

  “You already know he’s a very powerful man.”

  “He’s a child molester and a rapist, and you and I both know he killed Miriam Walters, otherwise she would have turned up by now. I’m sure you’ve heard about Olimpia Padula? The girl in his program who drowned in the bathtub?”

  “She was a drug addict. It happens all the time.”

  “Chase, listen to what you’re saying. Did you ever talk to the girl?” Lizzy shook her head. “I did. Olimpia hadn’t taken drugs since she was fifteen. She went straight. She worked hard. Hard enough to be accepted into Bennett’s program for honor students.” Lizzy tapped a finger on top of her head. “Use some logic. You don’t do that well in school if you’re doing drugs. And that’s not all. As he did to so many others, Bennett sexually assaulted Olimpia Padula, but this promising young woman was willing to testify against him.”

  He sighed.

  “It’s your problem now, though. I’m closing up shop. I’m done.”

  That got his attention.

  “Don’t look so glum. You should be thrilled that I won’t be causing you any more trouble.”

  “Why now?”

  “Because I’m pregnant.”

  That seemed to take the air out of him.

  “Jared and I are having a baby. I’m four months along.”

  Detective Chase looked dumbfounded.

  “I think I might have been every bit as stunned as you look right now when I found out.”

  “Do I detect a note of happiness?”

  “Yeah,” she said with a smile, “you do. I didn’t see it coming, but I’m excited about what’s ahead.”

  Chase’s surprise quickly turned to concern. “I’m glad for you, Lizzy, but the reason I asked you to come here today is because I’m worried about something.”

  Lizzy waited for him to continue.

  “Bennett named you specifically as his assailant.”

  “Ridiculous.” Lizzy did her best to appear untroubled. “Thanks for the warning, Detective, but you don’t need to worry about me.”

  “He was hoping to find video footage on his high-definition security system. I have to ask you straight up. Did you set foot on Wayne Bennett’s property?”

  “No.”

  “As you know, he can be ruthless.”

  “You said he was hoping to find video footage . . . Did he or didn’t he?”

  “My guys have already checked into it. Bennett’s recording was on full HD. He didn’t have the required HDD storage capacity needed to keep the video loading. He’s got nothing.”

  Relieved, Lizzy said, “Are you trying to say you think he might come after me?”

  His shoulders dropped. “I’m just telling you to be careful, that’s all.”

  “Don’t worry. I always am.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Tonight Hayley had decided to make the rounds by herself. Her car was still broken down and she had no plans to have it fixed, so she had hitchhiked her way to West Sacramento.

  She and Kitally had spent five nights out on the streets, and they had nothing to show for their efforts. Kitally might be upset when she found out Hayley went without her, but that was too bad. She preferred to work solo.

  She passed by the park and then found a spot where she could sit on the curb and watch a few people down the road setting up camp. She pulled out her cigarettes and lit one up, wondering if she’d ever really be able to quit the habit.

  As she sat beneath the stars, she thought of her date with Tommy and found herself smiling as she remembered his absurd talk of his future plans. Living in a little house by the river. Tommy could be a doofus at times, but he’d stuck by her. And she couldn’t help but wonder why.

  She turned toward the sound of rattling wheels. A shopping cart, being pushed by a guy with long red hair and the beginnings of a beard. He stopped when he’d moved abreast of her and peered down at her.

  “Got an extra smoke?”

  “Sure.”

  He took a seat next to her on the curb, and she gave him a cigarette and lit it for him.

  “Thanks.” He took a long, luxurious drag and sent a column of smoke into the night air. “So,” he said, turning to her, “what’s a nice girl like you doing out here on the street?”

  “Just enjoying a smoke,” she said with a laugh. She took a hit and then looked him over. “How’s it going?”

  “Not too good. I lost my job six months ago. Made the rounds, spending the night with friends and family until I finally wore out my welcome. I wasn’t out here on these very streets for too long before I woke up one night to some mean-as-hell monster chick beating the hell out of me.”

  Hayley sat up. “Skinny girl with white spiky hair?”

  “That’s her. Demon girl, and I’m not kidding.” He shot another shaft of smoke into the night, then shook his head. “Who would have thought someone that mean would have a nice, sweet-sounding name like Nora Belle Castor?”

  Butterfly wings danced in her stomach. “How do you know her name?”

  “I tried to stop her from stealing my things from my cart here, and when I grabbed hold of her sweatshirt, she yanked away so fast I ended up tearing the thing halfway off her. I was inches from her bare arm, and there it was in fancy black ink—Nora Belle Castor. She lit into me after that. I spent the entire next day filling out a police report. I gave them her name, but they said there was no address for her. Not that they would have given me the information if they had it. They said I wasn’t the first one to complain about the girl who everyone referred to as the Ghost.” He frowned. “I guess that could have been her mother’s name, now that I think about it.”

  Hayley stood then and handed him her entire pack of cigarettes and the lighter. “Here you go. They’re all yours.”

  “Hey, thanks.”

  “I really hope you find a way to get yourself off the streets.” And then she walked away.

  Two weeks after Hayley had found out the name of the Ghost, she walked into the kitchen as she did most mornings after waking up, and
she knew instantly that something was wrong.

  It was way too quiet, for one thing.

  Concerned, she went to Salma’s room. The bed was neatly made. All baby accessories were gone. On the dresser was a handwritten note:

  Dear Hayley, Kitally, Lizzy, and Jessica,

  I can never repay you for your kindness. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye. I couldn’t take any chances. Joey and I have been making plans for a while now. Sadly, I will be unable to make contact with you in the future. As you know, it must be this way. In order to live a happy life without looking over our shoulders, difficult choices had to be made. I am giving up the only family I ever knew to make a new life for myself. All of you have taught me what it means to have a family I can trust and lean on in difficult times. I will never forget any of you. Our daughter, Hope Elizabeth, will grow up surrounded by love.

  All our best,

  Salma, Joey, and Hope

  Later that day, Hayley sat at the end of the driveway and made a call to Jessica. It had to be done.

  “What’s going on?” Jessica asked as soon as she picked up.

  “I’m calling in a favor.”

  “You can’t call in a favor, Hayley, unless I owe you a favor, which I don’t.”

  “Do you always have to take everything so literally?”

  “I just call it like it is.”

  “OK, I need a favor. How’s that?”

  “Better. What do you need?”

  Hayley looked heavenward. “I need all the help I can get in locating a Nora Belle Castor. Caucasian. Young—late teens, early twenties. Last seen downtown. I’ve tried everything. I found a cousin, but he had no idea what she was up to or where she was living. Her parents live in New York and have yet to return my calls. I’m stumped.”