Murdered by Success

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Murdered by Success Page 7

by Dianne Harman


  There was a picture of a burning car near some woodland and firefighters were trying to put out the inferno. A reporter standing quite a distance away from it said, “Earlier this evening, a man walking his dogs in the woods stumbled across this burning car. There appears to be one person in it, who is obviously deceased. Police are trying to determine the identity of both the vehicle and the passenger.”

  Roger looked up from his laptop. “Liz,” he said. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Yes,” Liz said, feeling hollow. “Let’s just hope we’re both wrong.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The next morning, Liz folded up her pajamas and put them under her pillow. It looked like it was going to be a hot day, so she put on some powder blue linen pants and a lightweight white cotton blouse. Along with her beige espadrilles, she felt comfortable, relaxed, and ready for the warmth. Physically, at least.

  Mentally, she was in anguish. Had Connor returned during the night? She hadn’t heard anything during the night, but she was keeping her fingers crossed.

  Roger was still sleeping, having stayed up late working on his laptop, so she tiptoed around, letting him sleep in. It was so quiet she could hear the gentle breeze rustling the leaves on the trees outside the open window.

  But then the quiet was shattered by the beep beep beep of her cell phone ringing. She quickly grabbed it and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her, hoping she’d gotten it before it woke Roger up.

  “This is Liz Lucas,” she said, heading to the kitchen to turn the coffee machine on.

  “Hey purty lady, this is Seth. Glad ya’ deigned to pick it up knowin’ it was me.” Seth was the Red Cedar Police Chief, and certainly not one of Liz’s favorite people, which he was well aware of.

  “Hello, Seth.” Her heart was beating rapidly, knowing that the only time he ever called was when there was bad news.

  “Ya’ see the news?”

  “Are you talking about the burned car?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m calling ya’. I wasn’t about to call ya’ and interrupt ya’ bizniz to tell you ‘bout some speedin’ tickets, now, was I?”

  Liz’s worry was making her impatient. “Get to it. What does this have to do with me, Seth?”

  “Ya’ ain’t got a clue?” he asked with a small chuckle. “Not missin’ a guest at the lodge, are ya’, Liz?”

  Liz’s heart sank as Seth’s words confirmed her fear. “Connor Moynahan?”

  “Yup. The very same. There was a buncha’ stuff dropped jes’ outside the car, and a Red Cedar Lodge and Spa keychain was in the middle of it all. An ID, too. Looks like it makes him either a criminal, if’n he killed someone and left them in his car before he set it on fire, or else he’s the victim that was in the car. Whoever it is, they’re as cooked as fresh roadkill on a Texas highway in the middle of a hot summer day,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Oh dear,” Liz said, as she blanched at the crudeness of Seth’s remarks.

  “Ima’ thinkin’ this Connor Moynihan guy’s the victim, if ya’ ask me. But they’ll be doin’ all the tests on the body soon enough, well, anyways what’s lefta’ it. They can probably confirm his ID from his dental records. That’s ‘bout the only form of ID ya’ kin get when a body’s that burnt up.”

  “Seth, stop it.”

  He chuckled. “No good bein’ sensitive now, Liz, and it’s a little too late fer the victim.”

  Liz took a deep breath and walked out onto the porch. “Seth, will you be coming over here to inform his assistant, Julita? She’s a guest here at the lodge. And what about Connor’s wife? She’s pregnant.”

  “Someone local’ll go see his wife,” he said. “Charlotte’s her name.” He said it with a little swagger in his voice, like he was proud of himself for having more information than he was sure Liz had.

  “His assistant. Well… Would ya’ mind tellin’ her? I got a lotta’ paperwork here at the station to shuffle around. Ya’ know how busy I kin git ‘cause of all them speedin’ tickets I write.”

  “No, Seth,” Liz said. “You should come here and tell her yourself. You’re the one who’s been trained in how to professionally deliver news like that.” Then she second-guessed herself, doubting that Seth had it in him to be professional and sensitive in such a situation. “Or send someone else.”

  “’Fraid we’re understaffed here,” he said. “No can do ‘til later, by which time it’ll be all over the news, anyhow. Yer’ choice, Liz. Ya’ either break the news gently, or she sees it on the TV and wonders why ya’ didn’t tell her.”

  “That’s really unfair, Seth,” Liz said, as she felt frustration building up inside her. “I’m in the hospitality business, not law enforcement.”

  “Like I jes’ tol’ ya’, choice is yers’,” he said, then, with a click, the phone went dead.

  “Ugh!” Liz said loudly. Brandy Boy, who was sleeping on the porch, opened his eyes and looked at her, but as usual, he made no move to get up. Liz sighed. “Sorry, boy. It’s that darned Seth again.”

  She went back inside to load up on some strong coffee. She realized she was going to have to break the news to Julita. There wasn’t anyone else who could do it. Liz just wanted to get back in bed and forget everything, but, of course, that wasn’t an option.

  She decided there was only one way to do it, and that was to go tell Julita right away before she talked herself out of it. She didn’t even wait long enough to drink her coffee before she headed towards Julita’s cottage.

  The information was burning inside her, like it didn’t belong to her, and she needed to give it back to its rightful owner. She took her coffee cup with her, Winston padding along behind her.

  When she reached Julita’s cottage, it was very quiet. The front door was shut, and there were no sounds coming from inside. No shower running. No kettle boiling. No voices talking on the phone. Nothing. Nothing at all.

  For a moment Liz wondered if Julita had gone out, perhaps looking for Connor, but she knocked on the door, anyway.

  There was no answer.

  A horrible thought flashed through Liz’s mind: Please don’t tell me I have two deaths on my hands.

  The cottage was deathly quiet, but a few knocks later, a bleary-eyed Julita opened the door. “Sorry. I probably look so bad I’m scary,” she said, clearly having just gotten out of bed. Her red hair was a mess, her eye makeup from the previous day had smudged, and her robe was askew.

  “No, no, you’re fine,” Liz said.

  Julita put her hand to her forehead. “My head is just banging, banging, banging. I took two sleeping pills last night, which is more than I should have, and then…” Suddenly she became fully awake.

  She straightened up and looked directly in Liz’s eyes with a look of panic. “Oh my gosh, Connor, I’m sorry, but I’m still waking up. What’s happened to him? Is he okay? Has he come back?”

  The hope in her voice broke Liz’s heart. She swallowed. “Julita, I don’t think he’s coming back at all. On the news last night, there were horrific scenes of a burning car. The Red Cedar Police Chief called this morning to tell me his ID was found next to the car.”

  Julita lost her footing and collapsed in shock against the door. Liz managed to catch her before she could drop on the floor, and led her to a chair inside the cottage.

  “No,” Julita whispered. “No, no. It can’t be. Are they sure it’s him?”

  “The chief said they’re doing tests,” Liz said quietly, “to be sure of the person’s identity, and how he died. They want to determine positively if it is Connor.”

  “It can’t be,” Julita said. “Maybe he staged it all, so the people who are trying to kill him would think he’s dead. Yes, yes, that’s got to be it. I’m sure of it. Absolutely certain.”

  Liz said quietly, “I know the coroner, Wes Anderson. If you’d like, I can give him a call. He’ll be the first person to know anything.”

  “Yes, please. Call him. Call him now.”

  Liz
sat down and called Wes on her cell phone.

  “County Coroner’s Office,” the woman who answered the phone said. “How may I direct your call?”

  “This is Liz Lucas. Is Wes Anderson available? I’d like to speak to him.”

  “Just a moment.”

  Moments later, Wes’ warm voice said, “Good morning, Ms. Amateur Sleuth. I think I know what this call is about.”

  “Unfortunately, I think you do,” Liz said. “Connor Moynahan.”

  “The burning vehicle found last night?” Wes said. “Yes. I’m about to get to it now, but first I need some coffee. I hate to be insensitive, but it’s not a pretty sight, poor man, and I’m steeling myself.”

  “Seth called and said Connor could be the murderer or the victim. Could the body be someone else’s, and Connor’s gone on the run?”

  “No!” Julita blurted out. “Connor would never kill anyone!”

  “Yes, it’s possible that the body may not be Connor’s,” Wes said. “I won’t know until after the autopsy, and that’s only if I can get his dental records. Otherwise it’s going to get a little complex.”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t know why Seth was so hasty to conclude it’s murder, though,” Wes said. “It could be suicide. Of course, burning the vehicle is a possibility that might indicate someone wanted to hide evidence, but that’s not always the case. If it was suicide, he could have set the fire in the car himself. I’ve seen it happen before.”

  “Hmm,” Liz said. She hadn’t considered that possibility. “He was under a lot of pressure.” She thought of Julita’s idea. “What about staging his own death? He had people making death threats. Maybe he killed someone else and burned the vehicle so the body couldn’t be identified, and everyone would think he was the one who had died.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, it won’t work very well, since we still should be able to identify the body by comparing the victim’s teeth to his dental records,” Wes said.

  “But he didn’t necessarily know that,” said Liz.

  “True. Well, whether it’s Moynahan having murdered someone else, Moynahan having been murdered, or Moynahan having taken his own life, none of those are ideal scenarios.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll be starting the autopsy in five minutes, so we’ll soon discover which of those gruesome scenarios it is.”

  “If you could, I’d really appreciate a call when you finish it,” Liz said.

  She could hear Wes’s voice crinkle into a smile. “Yes, Chief Lucas.”

  Liz managed a hint of a smile herself. “Wes, that’s not funny.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “Doing this every day of your life, you have to have some light humor in your day. Otherwise you’d lose your mind.”

  “That’s probably true. We’ll talk when you finish the autopsy,” Liz said as she ended the call.

  “So?” Julita said, her eyes bright. “What’s happening? What did he say?”

  Liz relayed the information Wes had given her. Then she looked at Julita objectively with her wild hair and crazed manner. Liz wanted to see if she could make her more comfortable and calm her down. “Now, we have to wait a couple of hours at least, until Wes calls back. I know eating is probably the last thing you want to do…”

  “On the contrary,” Julita said. “I could demolish every bit of food you have here. Food is my go-to for comfort.” She stood up straight and even managed a laugh. Liz was quite taken aback, and then realized Julita was probably in shock. Julita looked down at herself. “Look at me! I’m going to go shower, put on my lipstick and power heels, and come eat a huge, hearty breakfast with a lot of sweet tea. That’ll make everything feel better.”

  “Okay,” Liz said, wondering when Julita’s world was going to come crashing down on her. For now, she was just glad the woman had some coping mechanisms to carry her through and stop her from losing her mind.

  Julita bustled around the mini kitchen area and got out a packet of cookies. She began to munch one. “Want one?”

  Liz thought it might be better if she joined in. “Sure, thank you.”

  “Connor isn’t dead, I’m sure of it,” Julita said. “He’s not. He’s just done an amazing number on us, to get those people off his trail. I know it.”

  “You may well be right.”

  “I know I am,” Julita stressed. “Now, I can’t stand you looking at me in this state for one more moment. I’m going to get dressed. See you in the lodge for breakfast. Oh, and you have spa services, don’t you? I could use the full works this morning.”

  “Okay,” Liz said. “Good idea. I’ll get Bertha to arrange for a therapist to come in after you have some breakfast. Okay?”

  “Yep,” she said with a laugh. “Connor and his tricks. Well, at least I get a spa day out of it, so I guess it’s not all bad.”

  Julita kept up her overly cheery attitude all through breakfast and all through her spa treatments, where her massage therapist reported she chattered at about a million miles per hour on any number of subjects.

  Liz, for her part, had the same nervous, buzzing energy, but without the desperate forced happiness. She couldn’t seem to apply herself to anything. She sat down to sort out some invoices, but all the numbers jiggled around in her head so much they became nonsensical mush.

  She checked her cell phone every few minutes throughout the morning, looking for Wes’ call, worried she’d somehow accidentally left the phone on silent, or the battery life had mysteriously plummeted and turned her phone off. But neither of those was the case.

  Finally, just before lunch and after what seemed a lifetime, she got a call from Wes.

  “Wes,” Liz answered. “What happened? What did you find out?”

  “Sorry, Liz, but it is Connor Moynahan,” he said. “I confirmed his ID by dental records sent to me as an email attachment from his dentist. And it was murder. I found two gunshot wounds to the head. If he had only one gunshot wound, it could possibly have been suicide, but with two shots to the head, it’s definitely a case of murder.”

  CHAPTER 11

  After her call from Wes ended, Liz went to the spa to find Julita and give her the bad news about Connor. When she told her, Julita sank to her knees in the lobby of the spa and shouted, “No!” Liz could practically hear her heart breaking. Bertha looked on, somber-faced.

  “Go get her a sugary tea,” Liz murmured to Bertha, and then she stood watching Julita. She didn’t want to touch her, because it seemed like that would be an invasion of her personal space. But she didn’t want to leave her alone, because Julita didn’t seem at all stable.

  When Bertha returned, Julita eagerly accepted the tea. She allowed Liz to guide her to one of the wicker chairs in the reception room, and she sipped her tea as if her life depended on it, until the cup was completely drained.

  “Would you like another one?” Liz asked kindly.

  Julita nodded, and Bertha took her cup to go make her a second cup of tea.

  “That poor, poor girl,” Julita said. “About to bring a baby into this world, and now she’s all alone.”

  “Yes,” Liz said sadly.

  “And Connor. His was supposed to be a story of victory,” Julita said, beginning to tear up. “Despite his past, he’d managed to make quite a success of himself, but then life came along and killed him. Hadn’t life beat him up enough already? Why couldn’t he have his happy ending? He deserved it.” She bowed her head and wept quietly. Liz’s heart felt heavy watching her.

  Julita wiped away her tears as best she could. “It’s time to get practical now. If Connor couldn’t have his happy ending, at least he can have justice. We have five more days left on our booking here at the lodge. I want to bring Charlotte and Patsy to the lodge for the time being. I’m not leaving town until the evil monster who did this is rotting in jail. If it takes more than five days, I’ll book us into a hotel in town.”

  Liz nodded. “I understand. Patsy and Charlotte are more than welcome to come. I’d ev
en ask you all to stay longer, but unfortunately we’re booked solid starting from the day you leave.”

  “That’s fine,” Julita said. “It’s not an issue. Okay, I’m going to call them right now. Then I’m going to get a hold of the police chief and find out what’s going on.”

  Liz sighed. “That’s one thing I should warn you about, Julita. The chief of police around here is a man by the name of Seth Williams. He’s not exactly, well, he seems to care more about nailing people on speeding tickets than properly investigating serious crimes.

  “There have been a couple of murders around this area before, and, in all honesty, I’ve had to do a great deal of investigating myself to make anything happen. He doesn’t care about getting proper evidence, or procedural…”

  “You’re experienced in investigating?”

  “Well, I’m not exactly qualified, but…”

  “But you’re good at it?” Julita pressed.

  “I suppose I have the right sort of mind for it. I’ve had some success doing it, although I really don’t know why.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?” Julita asked in an exasperated tone of voice. “We need to get this investigation going, and get it going right now. Do you have any available time over the next few days?”

  “I do, but…” As tragic as Connor’s death was, Liz was reluctant to get involved in yet another murder investigation. This had been such a well-organized and violent murder, she was, quite frankly, fearful for her own personal safety if she started to investigate the crime.

  “Please,” Julita said. “If not for Connor, for his poor wife. For his unborn child. I know you didn’t know Connor very well, but the pattern of his life was that nobody cared about him. Nobody cared enough to help him when he was young and vulnerable and in worse situations than most of us can imagine.”

  Julita gulped. “I know I sure didn’t help him enough. But now, now we can do something to honor his memory. I’ll be darned if no one cares about him in his death, too.”

  Even though it might have sounded like a manipulative speech on Julita’s part, Liz knew that Julita was being completely sincere, and it was only her strong motherly love for Connor that was making her so desperate. “Okay,” Liz said. “I’ll help. And I’ll start right now.”

 

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