Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel

Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel Page 26

by Lori L. Robinett

  The envelope was at her feet, but she made no move to reach for it.

  Her voice echoed in the cavernous basement. “Move away from the counter. Up the stairs. Now.”

  He sneered at her, “You won’t get away with this. You don’t even know what you’ve got there.”

  “I may not, but I bet August Woodson does.”

  “You bitch!” His face transformed into a twisted mask of hate. “You have screwed up everything. I tried to act sweet, to help you clean things out, but you wouldn’t let me. I poisoned you with old antifreeze I got from Caddy’s, but you didn’t get as sick as you were supposed to. Maybe it was too old—”

  A crash upstairs interrupted him and booted feet charged down the steps.

  “Freeze!”

  Paul grabbed a long screwdriver from the workbench and lunged towards her. She squeezed the trigger just as another gun exploded in a bang. Paul’s eyes widened and his mouth worked, but no sound came out. He stumbled towards her, and fell, his fingers inches from the blood spattered envelope at her feet.

  43

  Detective Johnson rushed to Paul’s still body and knelt beside him. Andi stood staring, shaking, unbelieving as the Detective put his fingers to Paul’s neck, then spoke into his radio, and ordered an ambulance. He turned to her and she handed him her weapon without taking her eyes off of the body at her feet. A uniformed cop stayed with Paul.

  The detective scooped up the large envelope still laying at her feet, guided her around Paul’s inert body, and took her upstairs.

  There had been enough death already. She was glad she and Detective Johnson hadn’t killed Paul. Her shot went left, she was certain. She always pulled to the left when she shot. The detective had hit him in the right shoulder. The house flooded with police and investigators and photographers. Johnson took her into the kitchen and fixed her a cup of tea. She shivered as she turned over the events of the past several months, and tried to put the puzzle together. The paramedics had just left with Paul when Dana pushed her way into the room.

  Andi rose and reached out as her best friend rushed towards her. The friends hugged, and Andi clung to her as if she were drowning. In a way, she was. And her best friend was there to save her. Detective Johnson pulled a chair out for Dana and sat down with them.

  He started simply, “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  There was so much to tell, Andi didn’t know where to start. He knew her husband had died, of course, and he wasn’t surprised she’d found evidence Chad had an affair with Portia Woodson.

  “Then I found several things here in the house that I didn’t understand.” She pointed to the blood stained envelope sitting in front of him. “It’s all in there. Most of it anyway. Stock certificates for Woodson Enterprises. In Chad’s den, you’ll find a valuation of Woodson Enterprises prepared by an accountant, and some sort of report. You already know that Chad was in over his head with gambling debt.”

  Dana broke in, “And that’s where Paul Varney comes into the picture. He was married to Caren Woodson, Portia’s sister.”

  Andi added, “And Paul and Chad used to be fraternity brothers at the University of Colorado. Chad must have confided in Paul about his money problems, and asked for help. I think that’s when Paul came up with the idea to introduce Chad to his sister-in-law.”

  Dana said, “That’s right. A friend of mine is the paralegal that works for the firm that represents the Woodsons. She got to be friendly with the two granddaughters when she handled the probate of their parents’ estates. She told me that Portia idolized Caren, and desperately wanted to settle down and have the family life that Caren did. But she had a party-girl image, and didn’t want to get serious with any of that crowd. She was afraid they were all gold-diggers. So she asked her brother-in-law to hook her up with a friend of his.”

  Andi’s eyes widened, “And my husband – his old fraternity brother - was the first person he thought of?”

  Dana nodded, “He took Chad to see the Woodsons’ attorney and arranged to have divorce papers drawn up, a new holding company set up, and got a new Will prepared that left Andi out in the cold, but left everything to his trust, which Paul would control if anything should ever happen to him.”

  “Chad planned to get a divorce, and get remarried almost immediately,” Andi said, then told him about finding the notes about the wedding chapel in Atlantic City, and her conversation with the woman there.

  The detective digested all the details, and tapped his pen against his notebook, “If I recall the news reports correctly, those two girls are the sole heirs of the Woodson fortune. August Woodson has spoiled them rotten, and probably gives them anything they want.”

  Dana continued, “And Portia talked her grandfather into giving Chad a sweet deal on a condo so that he could make some fast money and pay off his gambling debts. He got in good with the old man, and started visiting some of the development sites on the old man’s behalf. It was on one those trips that he discovered several tourmaline crystals that had been dug up by a trencher. Paul knew about Chad’s find, and offered to put him in touch with people who could put together a mining operation. Woodson Enterprises bought that land along with the mineral rights, but the Board intended to go public with the company as soon as the old man died.”

  Detective Johnson nodded. “And if August Woodson died and the company went public, particularly given the big tourmaline find, anyone who owned stock in Woodson Enterprises would make a killing.” One corner of his mouth twitched up, then he added, “So to speak.”

  His pen scratched furiously in his notebook. He paused to read back over his notes, then said, “So Paul knew about the tourmaline?”

  Dana nodded, “But didn’t know where the stones were or the exact location where Chad had found them. He hired a private investigator by the name of Jimmy Webster to follow Chad and find out anything he could about the stones, but the investigator had no leads about the potential mining location.”

  Andi glanced at her friend as she remembered the pictures Webster had taken in the course of his investigation. “And when the private investigator didn’t come through with any useful information, Paul cultivated a relationship with me so he could find out if I had found anything here, and so he could search the house himself.”

  Detective Johnson interrupted, “We believe he was the one who broke into your house. Your neighbor just identified him today out of a photographic line up.”

  She remembered how sick she’d gotten. “He borrowed my keys while I was in the hospital. He could have made a key then.”

  “So he ransacked your house.”

  “And he was here helping me clean up that mess.” Andi couldn’t believe it. She thought she’d finally found her happy ending. “Dana called to warn me today, but he was here with me when she told me. He was downstairs, and he did find what he was looking for – part of it, at least – and that’s when you showed up.”

  “We’ve been putting together a case on him for months. Now we’ve got enough evidence to put him away for a good long time.”

  Andi swallowed hard, and kept her eyes down. “And you aren’t going to arrest me for Chad’s death?” A chill ran down her spine while the grandfather clocked ticked loudly in the hallway. She glanced up at the cop.

  One corner of the man’s mouth twitched up. “I think you’ve suffered enough.”

  Dana reached across the table and patted Andi’s hand, “It’s over, Andi.”

  EPILOGUE

  Andi never returned to that house. After staying at Dana’s for a short time, she moved into her little cottage just outside of Buccaneer Bay, and had been there for about a week when she heard tires crunching gravel in the driveway. She stepped out onto the front porch just as
Portia Woodson got out of her black Mercedes.

  The young woman shaded her eyes from the sun, “Can I come up?”

  Andi hesitated a moment, then said, “Sure.”

  They sat in white Adirondack chairs, facing the ocean. Andi waited while the heiress chattered on about the view, the salt air, the weather. Finally, she fell quiet.

  Andi cut to the chase. “What are you doing here?”

  Portia pulled an envelope from her purse and laid it on the table. “I came to apologize. I should have quit seeing Chad as soon as I found out he was married. You probably hate me, and I deserve it.”

  Andi shook her head. “I don’t hate you. My marriage was never a good one.”

  “Still, I wanted to come and apologize personally.”

  Her ivory linen sundress showed off her perfect tan, and perfect body. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun, without so much as a hair out of place. But a closer look revealed dark bags under her eyes, and her manicured nails looked as though the tips had been chewed. She lost her parents, her sister and her fiancé, her brother-in-law was sitting in jail, and her grandfather’s illness forced her to take a more active role in the family business. It showed.

  Andi smiled at her. “Apology accepted.”

  “Thank you,” the girl murmured.

  Without another word, she stood and gracefully descended the stairs. She started her car, turned it around and gave a quick wave before she disappeared from sight.

  Andi picked the envelope up and slid her thumb under the flap. She ripped it open and pulled out a thick blue-backed paper. She read it carefully, then threw her head back and laughed.

  It was the deed to a tourmaline mine.

  DEAR READER:

  I hope you enjoyed this novel, the first in the Widow’s Web series. Read on for a sneak peek at the second book.

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  The Danger Within:

  A Widow’s Web Novel

  1

  Marcus froze in mid-cut, the serrated steak knife still in the meat as blood-red juices pooled on the plate. His eyes focused over his wife’s left shoulder and narrowed slightly. Before Sophie could turn to look, she felt the man’s presence just behind her.

  “Marcus, what a surprise to see you here,” the man said. His calm demeanor was belied by his voice, which held an undercurrent of anger.

  The metallic clink of the knife striking the edge of the plate sounded loud in the quiet of the dark restaurant. “And why is it a surprise that I take my wife out to enjoy a steak dinner?”

  The man stepped forward, inches from Sophie. She could smell the musky scent of his cologne, with a hint of leather. She kept her eyes downcast and noticed the expensive shoes he wore. Loafers, with little tassels on them. He turned towards Sophie and she looked up at him. His blue eyes were clear as a mountain stream, and the streaks of silver at his temples gave him a distinguished air. He smiled at her and took her hand, “If I had a woman as beautiful as this one, I’d take her out, too.”

  She held her breath as he kissed the back of her hand. The corners of her mouth twitched up in surprise, then she glanced at her husband. The muscles in his jaw worked as he motioned towards the man with his fork, “This is Blake Chaney. He’s the executive director of the Foundation.”

  She looked up at the man and pulled her hand from his grasp. So this was the mysterious philanthropist. She murmured, “Nice to meet you, Dr. Chaney.”

  Marcus said, “It’s Mr. Chaney.”

  Mr. Chaney smiled at her, a charming smile that exposed a perfect row of white teeth. “He’s right. I’m not a doctor. Not a scientist. I supply the money and oversee the facility to make sure everything stays on track.”

  Marcus looked around the intimate steak house. “Is your wife with you tonight?”

  “No, she had other plans tonight.” He put his hands on the table and leaned towards Marcus, and lowered his voice, “I’m concerned about the pig that was lost today.”

  Sophie frowned and watched her husband. His eyes closed for a moment. She knew that look. He was angry and trying to control it. When his eyes opened, his face was relaxed but his green eyes glittered with frustration. “It was a genetic mutation, out of my control. A fluke. ”

  The man laid his hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “I’m afraid this won’t sit well with the Institutional Review Board.”

  Marcus’s knuckles were white where he gripped his fork tightly, the only outward indication of his anger. “You are the executive director and sit on the Board. If you endorse human testing, the IRB’ll go along with it.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened at the mention of human testing. Although she knew of her husband’s research, he rarely shared details. The squat gray building where he worked was intimidating enough without knowing what went on behind those walls.

  “I’m so sorry, Marcus, but you know I can’t do that in good conscience.” His smile widened as he turned towards her. “Your husband is a brilliant researcher. Wouldn’t surprise me at all if he won the Nobel prize someday.”

  He strode away, his leather shoes nearly silent on the polished hardwood floor.

  She turned her attention back to her husband and tried to calm his ruffled nerves. “He obviously thinks a great deal of you. I didn’t know your research was so far along.”

  He stabbed a piece of meat with his fork and jabbed it at her. “He has no idea how brilliant I am. He doesn’t know how close I am to curing the scourge of humankind. Losing that engineered pig today—”

  She reached across and took his hand. It shook in hers, then he squeezed her fingers so tight her knuckles ground together painfully. He whispered urgently, “I have found the cure for cancer. You will see.”

  The waiter arrived to refill their glasses, giving her the opportunity to pull her hand away. She took a sip of water then remembered, “Oh! I forgot to ask – were you able to get the new insurance card from Jennie?”

  He nodded, still frowning, “Yes, yes, she ordered a duplicate for me. It’s in my desk drawer. I had other things on my mind today.”

  “I know. I hate to bug you. I just need to make sure I have that card before I go see the OB again.”

  He glared across the table at her, “I will get it to you, just quit bothering me about it.”

  They finished the meal in silence, he lost in his thoughts and her nursing her sore hand as she contemplated her brilliant husband’s change in mood.

  Less than twenty minutes later, Sophie hugged herself to calm the shivers. The wipers slapped furiously at the rain. Finally, he broke the silence. “You didn’t seem to mind when Blake kissed your hand tonight.”

  Lightning danced across the sky and she jumped when thunder boomed almost immediately. She turned towards him and spoke softly, her voice barely audible over the raindrops pelting the roof of the SUV, “It just caught me by surprise.”

  “Don’t let that act fool you. He’s a cad.” He grabbed her forearm and squeezed, “You and he aren’t seeing each other, are you?”

  “Of course not! I’m in love with you. I’m having your baby.” She pulled her arm from his grip. The night had been so nice. Marcus had taken her out for a romantic dinner to celebrate her first trimester. He’d opened the car door for her, pulled her chair out for her, ordered for her. And then she’d smiled at his boss. And that was all it took to flip Marcus’s switch. He truly was a b
rilliant man, but his mood swings scared her.

  She kept her head down, but glanced sideways at her husband. The muscles in his jaw worked furiously and his lips pressed tightly together. She cleared her throat and said, “Dinner was nice tonight.”

  He snorted and strangled the steering wheel with his grip. A shiver ran down her spine as the Denali sped down the mountain road, leaving Widow’s Pass behind them.

  She tried to turn his focus to the one thing he truly cared about. “Blake mentioned human trials. Your research must be going really well if you are thinking about human trials.”

  “More ready than you can ever imagine. And I’m not waiting around for the IRB. They move at a glacial pace, and the world cannot wait for them to grind along—” A loud rumble of thunder drowned out his words. A sharp bang punctuated the night. The SUV swerved to the left and threw Sophie into the door. The seat belt held her in place, but her head snapped to the right and hit the glass.

  About the Author

  Lori was born in Centralia, Missouri and now lives just a few miles from there with her husband on a small hobby farm. They manage the place for their Miniature Schnauzer and Miniature Beagle, two cats, and three miniature horses. She is proud of her Women on Target “marksman” qualification for shooting, which comes in handy when writing mysteries. That’s not the only reason not to mess with Lori - she keeps in shape by working out at a kickboxing gym, which also comes in handy when writing mysteries.

  Besides writing, she has a bit of a Star Trek obsession and enjoys driving her yellow Jeep named Daisy.

  Her first book, Denim & Diamonds, was published in 2014. Her short stories have been published in Well Versed and The Storyteller literary magazine.

 

 

 

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