by Lee Hollis
It was good while it lasted.
Chapter 25
The following Monday morning, Hayley got the kids off to school and raced to the bank to withdraw some spending money for lunch. After parking her car in the lot, she fished through her wallet and bag for her ATM card, but she couldn’t find it.
She was already running late for work, so she scooted inside the bank, scribbled her information on a withdrawal slip, and lined up behind an elderly woman, who was making a cash deposit and examining every last dollar bill before counting it.
This was going to take all day.
Hayley checked her watch.
It was 8:10 A.M.
Sal was not going to be happy.
Pam Innsbrook, the sweet-natured, helpful bank teller, and a big fan of Hayley’s column, removed her NEXT WINDOW PLEASE sign and waved Hayley over. Hayley sighed with relief as she raced over to Pam and slapped down her withdrawal slip.
“My ATM card has gone AWOL, Pam, so it looks like I have to get some much-needed cash the old-fashioned way.”
“Happy to help, Hayley,” Pam chirped, picking up the slip of paper and typing numbers into her computer. “By the way, I made your German chocolate cake recipe for my parents at our Sunday family dinner last night, and they just loved it!”
“Oh, that’s so nice to hear.”
“Did you have a good weekend, Hayley?” Pam asked, smiling like the Cheshire cat as she processed the withdrawal and began counting out five ten-dollar bills.
Before Hayley had the chance to answer, Pam slid the small stack of money over to her. Hayley went to pick it up, but Pam kept her finger pressed down on it. “By the way, I heard about what happened at the Hayseed Ball.”
“Who told you?”
“Everyone was talking about it on Facebook and Twitter. In fact, Mary Garber was live tweeting from the Masonic Hall at the moment Kerry Donovan doused you and your date with the fruit punch. It just blew up after that. Cody must be so embarrassed. He hasn’t left his office all morning. He got here super early and has just been glued to his computer.”
Hayley turned around and glanced in the direction of Cody’s office. Through the window she saw him rubbing his temples, his eyes closed. He sat there slumped over his desk, looking tired, haggard, and depressed. Hayley imagined he must have spent his entire Sunday being browbeaten by his shrill, unhinged, paranoid wife.
Cody suddenly opened his eyes and reached for his New England Patriots coffee mug to take a sip and caught Hayley staring.
Hayley whirled back around to face Pam.
“I’d feel sorry for him if I didn’t believe his wife had good reason to be suspicious,” Pam said, retracting her finger so Hayley could pick up her money and stuff it into her wallet.
“So you think he was cheating?” Hayley asked innocently, knowing for a fact he was, based on the pictures that she had found at Bessie’s house of him in bed with another woman.
“Well, there are rumors,” Pam said, leaning forward and talking out of the side of her mouth.
“You think it may be someone who works here at the bank?”
“Oh no. The tellers see and hear everything. Nothing gets by us. If it was someone at the bank, we’d know it. It has to be someone on the outside. A few weeks ago, Cassie Noveck was answering the phones, when Kerry Donovan called and asked if Cassie would have Cody call her when he got in from his overnight meeting in Portland. The thing is, there was no overnight meeting in Portland. When Cody showed up, he was wearing the same suit as the day before. Except it was wrinkled and his tie was loose and his hair was all mussed up, like he had just gotten out of bed. How stupid does he think we are?”
“I wonder who it could be.”
Pam laughed. “Not a clue. Although the girls and I went out for drinks at your brother’s bar the other night and made a few guesses. The funniest one was Bessie Winthrop. How ridiculous is that? Can you picture Cody and Bessie together?”
“Why on earth did her name even come up?”
“Well, Tammy Alley, the girl who works as a teller part-time while she’s taking a few business courses so she can work her way up to branch manager—well, she saw them having a really nasty fight in the parking lot after the bank closed one evening.”
“About what?”
“She couldn’t make out what they were arguing about, but she heard Bessie say something about him having sex with another woman and how wrong that was and how hurtful it was. It was as if Cody had cheated on Bessie and they were having a lovers’ quarrel. But Tammy couldn’t believe that was the case. She thought she must have heard wrong. It had to be about something else. I mean, seriously! Not to speak ill of the dead, but Bessie? With her hideous print caftans and all those cats, not to mention her obsession with chocolate? I just don’t buy it.”
Hayley wanted to defend her friend. After all, Bessie had dated before. Granted, Wolf Conway wasn’t exactly a commendable choice, but they did have a history. Bessie wasn’t a nun. Still, Hayley, too, had a hard time believing Bessie and Cody would ever hook up.
Hayley guessed Bessie was probably blackmailing Cody with those photos in order to get him to approve her business loan.
That had to be it.
That’s what the fight in the parking lot was about.
But who was the woman?
And did Cody decide to knock off Bessie instead of agreeing to her demands?
Pam’s phone rang. She raised a finger for Hayley to hold on for a moment as she picked up the receiver. “Hello, this is Pam.”
Pam rolled her eyes, annoyed as someone talked to her on the other end of the line.
Hayley knew exactly who it was.
“Yes, Mr. Donovan,” Pam said, shaking her head. “Right away.”
She hung up. “He knows we’re talking about him, so he’s getting nervous. He wants me to bring him a file that he could easily have just looked up on his computer.”
“I have to get to work anyway. Thanks, Pam,” Hayley said, turning to leave.
Pam put the NEXT WINDOW PLEASE sign back up and the handful of customers who had lined up while they were talking groaned and sighed before moving to the other two open teller windows.
Hayley was halfway to her car when she felt a sudden presence coming up fast behind her.
Someone grabbed her arm and twisted her around.
It was Cody.
“What were you talking about in there with Pam Innsbrook? I want to know, Hayley. Those hens won’t stop gossiping about me and I’m sick of it! What are they saying?”
“I’ll tell you what they’re not talking about. Yet . . . anyway. The fact that Bessie Winthrop was blackmailing you with photos she took of you in a compromising situation with another woman.”
Cody’s face went white. He looked around to make sure no one heard what Hayley had just said. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“I don’t?” Hayley said, reaching into her bag and pulling out the photos she had printed at the office from Bessie’s digital camera.
Cody’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he snatched the photos from her and stuffed them back deep inside Hayley’s bag.
He looked around again, panic-stricken. “Don’t be waving those around, okay?” Cody begged, craning his head around again to see that elderly woman, who was so slow to count her dollar bills to deposit, finally exiting out of the bank and shuffling her way to a Cadillac model from the 1970s. “Can we please go somewhere more private to discuss this?”
“Lead the way,” Hayley said.
They walked a few blocks to the town shore path. In the summer the scenic area, with a picture-perfect view of the dark blue Atlantic and the islands dotting the harbor, was packed with strolling tourists, dogs chasing Frisbees, and kids playing on the rocks, looking for snails and tiny fish and seashells. But in the middle of February, on a blustery morning, with the cold winds kicking up, there wasn’t a soul around. Most of the houses and mansions set back from the ocean were b
oarded up and deserted for the winter.
Hayley and Cody stopped and faced each other.
“How did you get your hands on those pictures?” Cody asked, his voice shaking.
“I found them on Bessie’s digital camera in her house after she died.”
“And do you have the camera in your possession?”
“Why? You looking to destroy the evidence?”
“Hell yes, Hayley! I have a disturbed, spiteful wife who will kill me if she finds concrete proof I’ve been cheating on her.”
“If I send her these photos, at least she’ll stop thinking that I’m the other woman.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Try me.”
“What do you want?”
“The truth. Was Bessie blackmailing you for a business loan?”
Cody nodded. “She must have heard the rumors. I know people at the bank were talking, so she followed me around with a camera until she caught me one night. She must have stood outside the window and just snapped away. What a bitch. The next day she e-mailed me the photos and said if I didn’t give her a loan for her silly chocolate business, she’d send those same photos to Kerry.”
“Is that when you decided to murder her?”
“Murder her? What are you talking about? Bessie died of a heart attack.”
“I have reason to believe it may be a homicide.”
“What? How?”
“Did you kill her, Cody?”
“No, of course not! I was willing to do anything she wanted to keep my wife from finding out. I had already processed the loan and it was just waiting for her signature, when I heard the news she had died.”
“You must have been so relieved,” Hayley spat out.
“You better believe it . . . ,” Cody said, before catching himself. “I mean, I feel bad and all, but I thought my secret had died with her.”
“Who is the woman?”
“What woman?”
“The woman in the photos. Who is it?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Did you tell this woman Bessie was blackmailing you? Did she know what was going on?”
“Yes! I was scared. I told her everything. Needless to say, she was very upset and she told me to handle it.”
“Well, maybe she didn’t trust you to handle it on your own, so she decided to take matters into her own hands.”
“No! Come on, Hayley! Bessie wasn’t murdered. Your own newspaper said so. Just drop it! Please!”
“Her name, Cody. Give me her name!”
“I can’t.”
“I still have the camera with the pictures on it. I can always turn them over to the police if Bessie’s death is reclassified a homicide.”
“Hayley, she wouldn’t do something like that. Trust me on this. Just leave her out of it.”
“Are you two still seeing each other?”
“No! It was a momentary lapse in judgment. We’re done. She’s very busy. I haven’t even seen her lately.”
Hayley believed him.
He was a jittery, shaking mess.
And he was too much of a wimp to pull off the perfect murder.
If indeed it was even murder.
Hayley was starting to doubt it herself.
“She’s no longer a part of my life. I promise!” Cody said, reaching out and taking Hayley’s hand. “You know I only have eyes for you.”
Dear God, not again.
Hayley yanked her hand away.
She was about to slap him in the face, when out of nowhere there was a cracking sound and something whizzed past between them.
“What was that?” Cody asked, looking around.
Another cracking shot.
Another whoosh past them.
Like a speeding bullet.
Not like a speeding bullet.
It was a bullet.
Two bullets.
Someone was shooting at them.
Chapter 26
Hayley and Cody stood frozen in their tracks as another bullet whizzed past them—this one even closer.
Hayley grabbed a fistful of Cody’s shirt and pulled them both down to the ground. They covered their heads and frantically looked around in the direction of the shooter. There was a green Dumpster at the edge of the parking lot of Albert Meadow, a picnic area near the edge of the shore path. Hayley saw a head masked in a black ski cap rise up from behind the Dumpster and then a rifle aiming at them.
Another shot.
The bullet tore into the path near Hayley’s feet, kicking up dirt and pebbles. One of the tiny rocks flew into Cody’s eye and he slapped a hand to his face.
“I’ve been hit! I’ve been hit!”
Hayley rolled over to get a look at the wound, but there was no blood.
There was no wound.
“You’re fine, Cody! Follow me!”
Hayley crawled on all fours to the edge of the path and jumped over the side, landing hard on the rocks below.
She twisted her ankle on impact, but nothing snapped.
It wasn’t broken.
Cody was hanging halfway over the side, foolishly coming face-first, his feet dangling in the air as his hands tried reaching the rocks. Hayley stumbled over and grabbed him in a bear hug, hauling him the rest of the way. He was almost twice her weight, and she thought they would both fall and crack their heads on the sharp, jagged rocks, but Cody landed on his feet. They hugged each other a moment, trying to assess the situation, and how they were going to get out of it.
“What if the shooter chases after us? We’re sitting ducks down here!”
“Calm down, Cody! Let me think!”
There was really nowhere for them to go. If the shooter moved to the path and was perched above them, they were cooked. There was also the choice to run for the water and try to swim to safety. But the water was freezing and they would both die of hypothermia before they could reach the first boat or island.
They pressed themselves up against the stone wall of the path.
Waiting.
Listening.
They heard nothing.
Except the calls of a few seagulls.
Waves were slapping hard against the rocks as the tide came in.
And then a car door slammed shut.
An engine roared to life.
Hayley climbed back up the rock face to peer over the edge of the path.
Cody tried stopping her, grabbing her leg. “Hayley, no! Stay out of sight!”
Hayley’s head slowly rose up in time to see a car squealing away. She focused on the license number before it veered to the right and back up the road away from Albert Meadow toward Main Street.
She hauled herself back up onto the path. “Shooter’s gone, Cody. The coast is clear.”
Cody tried following, but his dress shoes kept slipping and sliding on the wet rock face, so Hayley had to grab his hand and hoist him up the rest of the way.
He dusted himself off and straightened his tie. “Did you see who it was?”
“No. But I got the license plate number of the car he was driving. Maine plate. PYT426.”
The color drained from Cody’s face.
Just like the moment he found out Hayley knew Bessie was blackmailing him.
“What is it, Cody?”
“Nothing. Never mind. I have to get back to work.”
Cody tried to walk away, but Hayley stepped in front of him, blocking his escape.
“You know something. Tell me,” Hayley said.
“The license number. It’s a vanity plate.”
“What does it mean?”
“PYT. It means ‘Pretty Young Thing,’ like the Michael Jackson song. It was my nickname for Kerry. 426. That’s her birthday. April twenty-sixth. That was Kerry’s car.”
“Seriously? That was your wife shooting at us?”
“What can I say? I married a jealous woman who is a proud, card-carrying member of the NRA.”
Hayley pulled out her phone and called Sergio at the stat
ion.
“This is Chief Alvares.”
“This is your adoring sister-in-law. I’d like to report a shooting!”
“A shooting? Here? In town? Who got shot?”
“No one. The perp took a few potshots, but nobody got hurt.”
Perp.
Hayley loved using police lingo.
It made her feel like Mariska Hargitay, her idol, on that last standing Law & Order show.
“I know who it was too. Kerry Donovan.”
“Do you know where I can find her?”
Hayley turned to Cody. “What’s your address, Cody?”
“45 Bowles Avenue.”
“45 Bowles, Sergio. She should be pulling into the driveway any minute.”
“Okay, Hayley. I’ll head over there myself. Wait. Who was she shooting at?”
“Me.”
“Why am I not surprised? I should have heard that coming.”
“‘Seen,’ Sergio. You should have seen that coming.”
“Seen what?”
“Never mind.”
“Anything else you want to tell me?”
Hayley thought about filling him in on Bessie’s blackmail scheme, but she knew Cody would freak out if she spoke up now. Best to wait until she had more proof that Bessie was, in fact, murdered.
“Not at the moment. You just go save our town from wrongdoers, you strapping, hunky Brazilian stud.”
“I see you’ve been talking to your brother. He calls me that all the time. Bye. For now.”
There was a click.
Hayley dropped the phone into her coat pocket.
“Is he going over to my house to arrest her?”
“I’m afraid so, Cody. She tried to kill us.”
A smile crept across Cody’s face.
“What’s that?” Hayley asked.
“What?”
“That smile on your face.”
“What smile? I’m not smiling.”
“Yes, you are. The sides of your mouth are pointing upward. You look like the Joker!”
“I’m not smiling!”
Hayley rummaged through her bag for a compact and flipped it open, pointing the mirror in front of Cody’s face. He glanced at his reflection. He tried to frown, but he couldn’t. It was like Bell’s palsy. No matter how hard he tried to adjust his expression, his face still wouldn’t move.
