Rock Around the Corpse

Home > Other > Rock Around the Corpse > Page 12
Rock Around the Corpse Page 12

by Lizbeth Lipperman


  It was then that he’d told her a story that had kept her awake for many nights since then—a story that could possibly be the answer to all her prayers. But before she could take a trip back to the log cabin to find out more, her father had killed himself. Looking back, she surmised that although she’d forgiven him, he had never been able to forgive himself, and the guilt he suffered was more than he could bear.

  Several months after she’d graduated with a journalism degree, she’d gotten a job as a copy editor for a small newspaper in Sweetwater. Living in the house her aunt had left her, she’d begun to enjoy life again and almost forgot about the story her father had shared with her before his death.

  Almost!

  Eighteen months after he’d died, she’d heard about the hunting lodge being renovated into a spa and knew it was the perfect opportunity to quell her curiosity and discover answers to her questions. By then she’d accepted a position as a junior editor for the Sooner Review, giving her the perfect excuse to investigate on her own. If what her father had told her was true—and she had no reason to doubt it—her situation was about to change for the better in a huge way. Life might actually be ready to throw her a bone after all the pain it had caused her.

  She reached one last time for the bottle of water and took a long drink before she began walking toward the rubble. Glancing in the direction of the grove of trees to the left of the dilapidated barn, which still stood tall, she felt sadness wash over her. If she finished up quickly with her mission, she’d make it a point to spend a moment at Caleb’s grave before heading back.

  She picked up the pace and walked toward the pile of wood and God knows what else. For over an hour, she rummaged through the mounds of burned debris that had once been a place where love had flowed freely, searching for something—anything that might give her a clue about what her father had revealed to her the last time she’d seen him. After another hour had passed and the sun felt like it was burning her skin, she decided to give up, concluding that what her father had shared with her was simply the ramblings of an old man trying to impress his estranged daughter.

  And then she saw something under a large pile of burned wood.

  Mindless of the pain in her hands from the splinters, she dug around it until she was able to pull it out. She cursed herself again, this time for not bringing gardening gloves from the old shed where she’d found the hatchet. She was disappointed to find only a large piece of metal that looked like it had once been part of the pot-belly stove they’d used for warmth in the winter. Ready to give up, she spied the edge of a dusty notebook sticking out from one corner of the charred metal. After pulling the metal away, she grabbed the book. Although it was partially burned on one corner that hadn’t been covered, it was surprisingly in good shape, even after all this time.

  Sitting back on her heels, she opened it and realized it was the book her father had used to record his orders. Curious now, she thumbed through the pages until a picture dropped out. Even before she picked it up, she knew it was a photo of her father and her and Caleb in front of the pathetic cake she and her dad had made just a week before her brother died. A tear trickled down her cheek as she kissed the photo before laying it on the ground beside her and reopening the partially burned book. About halfway through the pages she stopped at what was dated the last week before he killed himself. Seeing her father’s handwriting sent another tear escaping down her cheek.

  And then she saw it!

  Although partially burned, it was still legible, and she lifted it closer to stare at the familiar name that jumped out at her.

  Excited now, she kissed the book and stood up. It was already getting dark, and she needed to get back to the spa before dinner. She’d play their game, dress up and pretend to be having a good time before she’d feign a headache so that she could get back to her room and delve into the book uninterrupted. If what she was thinking when she’d seen the familiar name panned out, the weekend trip to the spa would be totally worth it.

  After shoving the notebook into the pocket of her vest, she picked up the hatchet and was about to start the journey back to the spa when she thought she heard footsteps behind her. Turning slightly to her right, she saw a shadow coming toward her. Before she could react, she felt herself falling, and although she held out her hands to protect herself, she slammed full force onto the drought-hardened dirt, hitting her head on a large rock when she landed.

  As her vision blurred, she wondered if this was payback from the stone clad monster for chasing him all those years. Her last thought before she blacked out was that this must have been the way Caleb felt right before he died.

  *****

  “We’ve been interviewing these people for over three hours, and we still don’t have much to show for it,” Lainey said, stretching her legs. “I’m beginning to think that whoever killed Kershaw is long gone.”

  Vince considered that for a minute. “You could be right, Lainey. The killer had enough time to get away, especially if he had transportation of some kind tucked away in the woods behind the spa. But we have to be patient. Most investigations start with a lot of time spent asking the same questions in the hopes that someone will slip up so you can catch them in a lie. Entire days can be spent talking with people about things you think have no relevance. Then one simple response will get you thinking until it all falls into place. Sometimes, it never does, and those are the cases that haunt you, especially—”

  “You could only know that if you were a cop,” Maddy interrupted, eyeing him up.

  “I told you I had a little law enforcement experience.” He turned away, hoping the gesture sent the message end of conversation.

  Before Maddy could question him further, Paulina Ortiz walked over to the table. “Sergio said you were ready for me.”

  Maddy pointed to the empty chair. “Have a seat, Paulina. This shouldn’t take too long.”

  The assistant chef did as she was instructed. “Good, because Haley gave us specific orders that the dinner must go on as planned tonight. I’ve got to help Sergio with the filet mignon and then make the sauce to go with it.”

  Vince studied the chef as she tapped on the table with short, clear nails. Even sitting in a chair, her five-eleven-ish frame towered over the Garcia sisters, who would never be considered short themselves. Her dark hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense, tight bun, and from where he sat, he could see that she wasn’t wearing earrings. A quick glance at her hands showed she had no jewelry on at all, consistent with her all-work-and-no-play persona.

  “So, what do you want to know?” Paulina asked in a thick Hispanic accent as her dark eyes focused on him. Her olive complexion seemed a little flushed and her breathing was slightly faster than normal, making him wonder if she was just really busy in the hot kitchen or if she was a little nervous sitting down with them.

  “For starters, did you know that Brent Kershaw ordered a bottle of Scotch to be sent to his room last night?” Maddy asked, leaning forward in the chair and propping her arms on the table.

  “Yes. India mentioned it. Why is that important?”

  Vince ignored the question and moved on. “Did you see her get the Scotch?”

  Paulina’s eyes registered confusion. “No, but I still don’t see why that’s important. Haley had already warned us that Mr. Kershaw was a big drinker, and she instructed us to bend over backwards to make him happy.”

  “Why was that?” Lainey asked.

  Paulina shrugged. “I assumed it was because he was a big investor. Haley acted like she was worried about him backing out.”

  “Did you know that he and Haley had a sexual thing between them?” Vince asked, watching for a reaction.

  “From what I understand, Mr. Kershaw had many things going on with many different people, but none of them were any of my business.” She gave Maddy a look that left no doubt she was referring to Deena.

  “Did you see anyone besides India around the Scotch after she placed it on the table?” Vince con
tinued.

  Paulina shook her head. “We had an unbelievable week with screwed up orders that almost didn’t make it here in time.” She rolled her eyes. “When it all came together late Friday night, we celebrated a little too long. I was so exhausted at the end of dinner last night that all I wanted to do was clean up, get to my room, and crash.”

  “And did you?” Lainey asked, scooting her chair closer to Paulina’s.

  “Did I see anyone or did I go straight to my room?”

  “Your room.”

  “Sergio and I stayed until everything was done in the kitchen, and then I went directly to my room. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even brush my teeth before I fell asleep in my clothes.”

  “So you never saw anyone but India go near the bottle of Scotch?” Lainey persisted.

  “Why do you keep asking me about that? I thought Mr. Kershaw died from a stab wound.”

  “He did,” Vince replied. “But we think whoever killed him laced the liquor with something.”

  “Sorry. I can’t help you on that one. The strongest medicine I take is aspirin for an occasional headache, and as far as I know, none of my coworkers are on drugs.” Paulina looked down at her watch. “If that’s all, I’d like to get back to the kitchen. Sergio has stuck his head out and given me his best version of an evil look at least six times since I sat down.”

  Vince nodded “If you hear or see anything that you think might help us with the investigation, we’d appreciate a heads up.”

  Paulina stood. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.” She started toward the kitchen, then turned back. “I know this can’t be fun having to spend all your time asking questions. I hope you’ll all be able to sit back and relax and enjoy the delicious food tonight.”

  “Amen to that,” Maddy said. When Paulina was out of hearing distance, she rubbed her chin. “With the exception of India, the rest of the kitchen staff seems to check out.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Wish Colt was here. He’d know what to do next.”

  “Who’s Colt?”

  Maddy pointed to Lainey. “Her husband and the sheriff of Vineyard,” she said with a laugh. “And essentially, my boss. Normally, he’d be screaming at me and my sisters for interfering in his investigation, but this time even he’d have to admit that we have no choice.”

  “It’s getting complicated,” Vince said. “We really could use his expertise on this one. Somebody killed Kershaw and then left us with no way to communicate with the outside world. I have to think there’s more to this story than just the murder of a man who had a lot of enemies.” He lowered his head for a moment before meeting Maddy’s gaze. “This is beginning to smell like the work of someone with a grudge.”

  “About what?” Maddy and Lainey asked in unison.

  He laughed. “If I knew that, we wouldn’t be wasting time questioning everyone. But I can’t help thinking that Kershaw’s murder was just the tip of the iceberg. In my opinion, whoever killed him is playing cat and mouse games with us and is probably laughing their ass off in their room as we speak. Or he’s in Oklahoma City celebrating his accomplishment.” He paused before continuing. “My money is on the former.”

  “Oh my God! Do you think we’re in danger?” Lainey asked.

  “I think we all need to be especially careful not to be alone at any time until we figure this out—if we ever do figure it out. If I’m right, the killer isn’t through with us just yet.” The minute the words left his mouth, he was instantly sorry, especially when he saw the horrified look on Lainey’s face. But sugar coating the situation would only make it worse.

  “You know all about me and what I do for a living. I think I have a right to know about you as well. Coming to the conclusion like you just did couldn’t have been from your experience walking the mall or playing a cop on TV,” Maddy said, narrowing her eyes at him.

  He looked at her, wondering where that had come from. “Walking the mall? Is that what you think I did?”

  Maddy’s face flamed, and he knew she was regretting ever verbalizing her thoughts. “You gave us no choice but to speculate. You own a limousine service, yet you seem to know what you’re talking about when it comes to police procedures.”

  He was quiet for a minute, debating whether to tell her more about him or not, knowing that by doing so, too many bad memories would be dredged up. He wasn’t ready to be reminded of all that yet. But Maddy was right. If he was going forward with her on this investigation, she needed to know where he was coming from.

  “So you’re not a mall cop?” Lainey asked, breaking the silence.

  This time he laughed out loud. “Hardly. I hate shopping and anything to do with it.” He shrugged, knowing that once he told the truth, there would be more questions—specifically, ones he didn’t want to answer. He took a deep breath before speaking. “I spent twelve years as an FBI agent based in Dallas before I bought out my uncle’s limousine service.”

  “You were a Fed?”

  Maddy’s reaction brought another smile to his face. “I was.”

  “Doing what?” Maddy probed.

  He hesitated only momentarily before he replied, “I was an FBI profiler.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Maddy, Lainey, and Vince were still joking about him being a mall cop when they got back to the room. Startled from a power nap when the door opened, Deena screamed.

  “Geez, Deena. It’s only us,” Lainey said, plopping down beside her.

  “Guess I’m still a little edgy.” She yawned. “My headache had finally dulled a little, and the bed was too inviting,” she explained, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What’s so funny?”

  Maddy glanced toward Vince, and when he nodded, she continued, “We just found out that Vince used to be an FBI profiler.”

  Deena looked at the limo driver, whose eyes were now crinkled with amusement. “Some cop you are, Maddy,” she said, not breaking a smile until her sister did.

  “I know, right? But in my defense, I assumed that anyone with that kind of experience would brag about it, not hide it. You have to admit he led us to believe he was only a limo driver.”

  “I am only a limo driver,” Vince added, joining in the fun. “I just happen to have a knack for getting into bad guys’ heads.” Then he bit his lip to try to look serious. “Unless, of course, you count the stint I did on the TNT series Limousine Murders. I’d solve a new crime every week in less than sixty minutes.”

  Maddy playfully slapped his shoulder. “Shut up. I can’t help it if I have a vivid imagination.”

  “Why in the world would you think I was a television cop, anyway?” he asked, shaking his head.

  “Because you’re hot,” Lainey blurted. “We figured you were either a security cop or that you’d done a cop commercial somewhere and you were throwing that out as a way to puff yourself up.”

  His eyes again crinkled with mischief. “Good to know. Maybe I can check out the local TV stations when I get back home and see if there’s an opening for a new show. Maddy might want to come with me and put in a good word,” he teased.

  A man who looks like that and has the smarts to be an FBI profiler is more potent than any aphrodisiac known to women, Tessa said, appearing out of nowhere and settling between Deena and Lainey. I would love the chance to profile him—and I definitely mean more than getting into his head.

  “Too bad you’re dead,” Deena said, realizing a second too late that she’d actually said those words out loud. A glance toward Vince told her she had some explaining to do, and the stunned look on her sisters’ faces confirmed she was completely on her own. “What I meant to say was that it would be too bad if you were killed on that show. Then you wouldn’t be able to help us figure out who the killer is.” She held her breath to see if he bought her explanation.

  After a minute, he smiled. “You know the main character never dies.” Sitting down in the chair by the desk, he glanced Lainey’s way. “Guess we’d better put our thoughts down on paper while they’re st
ill fresh in our minds. Are you ready?”

  When she whipped out the pen and pad, it was a signal that the fun was over for now and it was time to get down to business.

  Good job fixing that screw-up, Deena. Can you even imagine what that boy would think if he knew you girls talked to a ghost? Tessa wiggled her eyebrows comically. I can picture him in that TNT series—like that taxi-cab driver on one of those shows where there’s a hidden camera in the backseat. Yowza!

  Deena ignored her and sat up straighter. “Kate should be back any minute. She just went to her room to check on something.” Before anyone could respond, there was a knock at the door.

  “Speaking of the devil,” Maddy said as she let her youngest sister in the room. “Now we’re all here including, Tess…Vince,” she corrected herself.

  Deena scooted over to the edge of the bed to make room for Kate. “Maddy, tell us what you found out in the dining room, and then Kate and I will share what we learned at the spa.”

  “You first,” Maddy said. “Lainey, be sure and write everything down. Like Vince said earlier, sometimes things you think are the least important can turn out to be the clue that unravels the mystery.”

  Lainey sat down at the desk with her pen and paper in front of her. “Ready when you are.”

  “I’ll start. For openers, we had quite the conversation with the masseuse, Yolanda Templeton,” Deena began. “We all got the impression that she had secrets she was—”

  “We all?” Vince looked confused. “Don’t you mean you and Kate?”

  Deena realized her mistake the moment he interrupted her. “Yes.” She made eye contact with first Maddy and then Lainey to let them know she was also talking about Tessa.

  “What made you think she was hiding something?” he asked.

  “Because at first she told us that her parents immigrated to the United States when she was a baby. Then later, she mentioned that she’d learned the tricks of the massage trade from her parents at a spa they’d managed in Paris.”

 

‹ Prev