by Ritter Ames
"I was thinking about you last night."
"I know." Kate felt her smile broaden. "I heard you on the radio."
"When the game went into extra innings?"
"Uh-huh. We got home from Saree's a few minutes before."
"How'd the talk go?" He'd taken another bite, and the words came out muffled.
"Really well." Glancing at the clock, she rose and pulled on her robe. "Saree wants me to do another in a few months, and a lot of people went away with my card. Oh!" Kate suddenly remembered what she and Meg discovered. "We figured out who the thief is." She quickly filled in the details about the antique store trek.
Keith cleared his throat. "That's great, honey. Looks like everything's working out." She heard him take a quick sip of coffee, then clear his throat again. "Well, you need to get the girls up and going. I should be back in Hazelton by noon. Want to have lunch with a guy who loves you?"
"You mean you?" Kate asked, then laughed at his sharp intake of breath in surprise. "Of course, I do, handsome husband of mine. Where do you want to meet?"
"How about Giovanni's?" he suggested, a romantic Italian bistro Kate had fallen in love with soon after they moved to Hazelton.
"Mmm, sounds wonderful. Play your cards right, sailor, and I might even bring you back to my place for dessert."
"I was counting on it." Keith chuckled. "I love you. Give Sam and Suze a kiss from me."
She felt a sudden pang of loneliness. "I love you, too. And do be careful."
"Always. Bye."
"Goodbye." But he'd already hung up. She realized she'd forgotten to tell him about her frightening drive home and the damage to the van.
She smiled. Guess I am getting braver. Anyway, there was nothing he could do except worry all the way home.
The twins never got ready well when the morning routine was broken, and Keith's absence made everyone run late. Even bribed with a Sweetie Eaties breakfast and Kate following behind like a track coach, coaxing, challenging, and eventually warning dire consequences, they ran later than ever for a school day. Worse, a safety assembly was scheduled for the morning, the kids heading for the gymnasium first thing to meet one of Vermont's drug dogs, Rosie.
"Grab jackets, girls," Kate said. "Remember, the DARE officer is coming today with Rosie."
As she scooped up her own blazer from last night, Amelia's journal appeared beneath the coat. Kate almost picked up the book but stopped at the last second. The attorney's office wouldn't open until at least nine. No point in testing her resolve against peeking.
Still packing lunches into their backpacks, the girls remained coatless in the entry hall.
"Hurry," Kate warned, snatching up her keys. "Come on, get your jackets or we'll be late."
"Ah, Mom," Sam whined. "It's spring already."
Not in Vermont. Aloud she said, "But the mornings are chilly."
"We'll just have to carry them this afternoon," Suze contributed. "No one wears jackets now after school, except for the babies."
"Wow. You have to lug your coats all the way to the parent pick-up circle. What a job."
"Our friends laugh at us," Suze said, eyes downcast to perfect the sympathy appeal. "They say we're not true Vermonters."
Kate nearly gave in before she realized the eye shift covered a lie. Or at least an elaboration. Instead, she looked at her watch. "If you two aren't jacketed and loaded into the van in thirty seconds, you'll have to go to the office for tardy slips."
They streaked out of the door like a couple of pint-sized missiles.
*
It was an hour later before Kate returned home, after being waylaid in the school parking lot by a mother who had been at Saree's the previous evening and couldn't wait to tell how the tips had already changed her life.
The phone rang as Kate inserted the house key into the lock. She raced to the kitchen, and saw Hazelton Elementary on Caller ID.
"Mrs. McKenzie?" a hoarse voice said, and the man coughed as if to clear congestion. "We have a woman here saying she's your mother and wants to take your children, but she isn't on the list of authorized—"
"What woman?" she cried. Her late mother's appearance was an impossibility, which only left Jane. Kate knew her motherin-law would never remove the twins from school except in an emergency, and never without first contacting Kate.
Another cough came through the line. "A Mrs. Baxter—"
"No!" She headed for the door, carrying the cordless phone as she ran. "Don't release my children to her! I'm on my way. Please call 9-1-1 and report an attempted kidnapping!"
"Will do," the voice replied, and the line went dead.
She yanked keys from her jacket pocket and slammed the front door, not even stopping long enough to lock up the house.
At the school, she swung into the front circle and parked in a fire zone. As she ran for the building, she wondered how she'd beat the police cars and hoped they arrived soon. There was no way to know what Mrs. Baxter might do in a school filled with innocent children. She'd already killed twice. Would a child be any harder than adults?
Kate reached the front door, just grabbing the handle as a tall shadow rose and separated from the side bushes. An icy hand clamped around her wrist.
"Come with me, please, Mrs. McKenzie," said Charles Webster Walker.
Relief swept through her. "Thank goodness you're here, Mr. Walker. Please come with me and speak with Mrs. Baxter. She's trying to kidnap my children!"
"No, Mrs. Baxter isn't here." Walker pulled Kate toward the front sidewalk.
"Let me go." She struggled but could not break his grip. "I have to get inside. The woman has lost her mind. She killed Amelia and Sophia to cover her thefts, and now she's—"
"In Montana," Walker interrupted, shooting her the coldest look Kate ever remembered seeing.
"But the school called…" she faltered. "A man said…"
He coughed. "You mean the one who said Mrs. Baxter wasn't on the list of authorized people to take your children?" he asked, speaking in the same raspy voice she'd heard over the phone.
"You?"
"Of course."
She was too shocked to fight him, and he took advantage, easily dragging her several yards.
"And you talked with that antique lady, too," he said. "I called yesterday to make sure she'd received my shipment."
"You're the lady with the cultured voice?" Kate tried again to pull free.
"Did a lot of thespian work in college." He gave her arm a solid yank. "Came in handy all these years later."
Thoughts raced through her brain, but she forced herself to focus all energy on a fight for her freedom. They were on the side of the building, moving toward the cafeteria wing. Kate knew she was dead if he got her inside his car, and she could see it looming closer, parked slightly hidden beside the Dumpster. A black Lincoln with tinted windows. The front was hidden from view, but she suspected the grill and fenders were badly dented from bashing her van.
She fought hard, but despite his age Walker was stronger. Why doesn't someone see me, come help me? Her eyes lighted on the DARE van. Of course, everyone was in the gym. What irony. Police on the scene, and she was still on her own.
Kate tried to scream, but it came out as a series of aborted yelps. Yet, Walker took no chances. He grabbed both her wrists and held them in one of his large hands, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket with his free one and shoved it into her mouth. His hand quickly covered it, and she couldn't expel the cloth. Another jerk and he'd pulled her body next to his. They made their way clumsily the last few feet, with her unsuccessfully trying to trip him.
At the car, his body pinned hers against the metal, and he opened the back door. While one hand fumbled with the car keys, he wrapped the other arm around Kate's head, crushing her mouth against his shoulder. Her hands were free, but practically immobilized by his body. She tried her only chance. She reached for his groin.
"What the hell?" he roared, as her fingertips grazed the target area. Befor
e she could follow through, he reared back and clipped her jaw with his right fist. She nearly lost consciousness. She fought to stay on her feet. He grabbed her jacket collar and hauled her up, twisting the car key at the same time.
Her mind screamed, Not the car! No! Not in the car! She tried to stick her fingers in his eyes. He pulled back suddenly, but not before her nails left four bloody slashes down the right side of his face. He hit her again, harder this time, on the side of her head. He smiled. Blood dripped onto his white collar.
Kate felt blood ooze from a cut at her temple. She spit the cloth from her mouth and screamed. He smacked her with the back of his hand, and the skin on her cheek exploded."Teach you to try any more foolishness." He laughed and held up his hand. Kate flinched. "I'm not going to hit you again, unless you try something equally stupid. Just wanted to show you this ring. It was Daniel's."
The large ebony and diamond signet ring matched the image of the heirloom Daniel wore in the portrait in his study. She watched the diamond flash in the sun, but her mind grew increasingly hazy. "Why?"
"Why kill them?" Walker asked, then laughed again. "Why not? Amelia took half of what I had in our divorce. Never mind we weren't married long enough for the marriage to hardly count. She didn't love me anyway. Loved that wimp boy. She comes back to town, pretty as you please, married again, and wants to hire me as her family attorney. Says Daniel agreed. I acted pleased at the compliment but began planning from that first moment."
"Planning what?"
"To steal everything they had, of course." He tried to pull the door handle, but Kate slipped her body over it, using every means to stall his progress. His face darkened. "Damn it, move. You've messed up everything all along, just like Amelia."
"How did—"
"She wanted to change the will. Take out the inventorying time." He roared, shoving her back toward the trunk and wrenching the door wide. "I had everything already started, but I needed those last sixty days to cover my tracks. Couldn't start divesting until they finally let me handle all the financials this year. Once they were both dead, that transitory period you were supposed to use for inventorying offered the escape time I needed. But you started investigating instead. I got to the office this morning and heard my messages, learned you'd found the journal and the offshore account number Amelia discovered with her snooping. I knew you read the damned journal and understood what was changing and why."
"So the account number was the reason why—"
As she spoke he grabbed the discarded handkerchief, nearly pulling her to the ground as he held her arm. Kate thought it was to shut her up again, but instead he gave her a mighty shove and sent her flying into the rear seat, onto her back. A roll of duct tape lay in the floorboard.
But she had her hand free for the moment, and a moment was all she needed. As he ripped off the first strip of silver tape, her right hand dove into her jacket pocket and came out with the laser pointer. One click and the green beam shot directly into his eyes. It didn't take long, just like Meg said.
"Ahh!" he screamed. "My eyes! I'm blind!"
Walker tried to shield his eyes, and Kate made her final attack. With every ounce of strength she brought her knees to her chin, and slammed both feet into his chest. There was a whooshing sound as air left his lungs, and he fell to the pavement. She scurried out the door, moving as fast as her wobbly legs could go. He grabbed blindly for her, catching hold of her jacket as he worked his way back to his feet.
Not this time.
She shook free of the coat and headed for the steel cafeteria door. But she couldn't get away from his long reach. As if by instinct, he moved, cursing and grabbing, then knocked her to the ground. She slammed a heel into his shoulder. She kicked off from the asphalt, her palms scraped and bloody. She screamed, but no one opened the doors. The cafeteria was her only hope. Closer. Closer. She was seconds away when he tackled her again, holding both of her feet this time.
Kate fell just short of the small concrete apron that served as the door's porch. Her hand rested next to the iron doorstop someone had left at one corner. As he rose to move on top of her, to pin her one more time, she grabbed the heavy metal wedge and swung in a ninety-degree arc, using the movement to bring all available weight behind the blow. The heavy doorstop connected with his left temple. Kate heard a sickening thump, and he fell away from her.
Laughing and crying at the same time, she rose to unsteady feet and pounded on the locked door.
"What the hell?" The door opened to reveal Valerie in a hairnet and floury white apron. Kate collapsed into her arms, right before the world turned black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Organizing Your Mind for Clear Thinking
1. Think small. Take small bites, and you'll finish much easier.
2. Focus on your objective. Don't let random chaos rule.
3. Believe in yourself. Organization is a decision that you make.
4. Don't let clutter trap you. You have power over your environment.
5. Like the Nike ad says, "Just do it." Five minutes is better than nothing.
*
"In a hairnet? Valerie?" Meg hooted. "Tell me you're joking."
After the laughter died down at their table, Kate regaled Keith and the Bermans with the other details of her harrowing morning. Though Keith had made it back to town by noon, Kate had still been with the police and paramedics. After one of the cafeteria workers had run into the assembly screaming that a man was molesting women in the parking lot, the DARE officer had quickly taken charge. Charles Webster Walker had finally regained consciousness with Rosie standing guard over him, her German shepherd warning growl low and mean any time he tried to move.
"Yes, at first I thought I was having delusions from getting socked in the head, but it's true—our demon decorator volunteers in the Hazelton Schools food services division. One of the regular volunteers hurt her back and couldn't make it today. When Valerie heard, she offered to take the woman's place. Seems our gal Val is a regular helper at the high school cafeteria. Hard to believe, huh?"
"Valerie as benevolent servant?" Meg mused. "That's a toughie."
Gil swallowed his last bite of breadstick and said, "She's a big behind-the-scenes person for the community Toys for Tots each Christmas, too."
"I guess we've always looked at her through the wrong end of the telescope." Kate frowned as she carefully bit into a savory meatball. It still hurt to open her mouth very wide.
Ooh wonderful. The seasonings exploded across her taste buds.
"Well, not completely," Gil admitted. "She gets serious business mileage out of being philanthropic with her time, pitching decorating skills as she lifts a volunteer hand. It isn't all selfish. She does a lot of good, but she makes sure to self-promote at every turn."
"There's the Valerie we all know and tolerate," Meg said, and they laughed again.
Stabbing a slice of baked zucchini from his wife's plate, Gil mused, "Speaking of selfish people makes me wonder, with Sophia dead and her husband around the bend, so to speak, what's going to happen to the radio station?"
Keith chuckled. "You are not going to believe this. Story is when Mr. White's doctor and a nurse went in to tell him about Sophia's death, the old guy perked right up. They figured he didn't really understand what they were saying and planned to return later to try breaking the news again. Within an hour, he'd called his attorney—not Walker's firm, by the way—and was checking himself out. Said he wanted to go home and was perfectly fine. Said the whole thing was an act to get away from her and gain some peace for a while."
"Now, that I can believe." Meg clapped her hands.
Gil pulled another breadstick from the basket. With a glance around the crowded dining room, he said, "How'd we score a table here on Friday night during prime dining time?"
Keith shrugged. "Power of being a celebrity." Then he laughed and added, "Kate's celebrity status, not mine. I showed up here for lunch and waited until she finally phoned to tell me what happ
ened. I ran out without even paying for my drink. I came back after I knew she was okay." He squeezed his wife's knee under the table. "They'd already heard what happened. Management insisted I bring her back for dinner, on the house."
"How nice. And your parents were terrific to volunteer to babysit all our kids." Meg smiled, then looked closer at Kate. "Are you sure you're okay? You look a little pale."
As Keith and Gil turned worried eyes her way, Kate laughed. "I'm fine. Really. The paramedics patched up all my boo-boos. Just a few bumps, cuts, and bruises. Looks worse than it is. Besides, how can you tell what color I am in this light?" She waved a hand, taking in the romantically darkened dining room. "I counted on the restaurant's ambience to help me escape scrutiny."
Gil forked another bite of Meg's chicken cacciatore. "You look fine. My wife is letting her mommy genes work overtime."
"Hey, buster." Meg slapped his hand. "I can't help it if I care. And if you wanted to eat this dish you shouldn't have ordered lasagna."
He grinned at her, holding the delicious seasoned morsel poised at his mouth and asked, "Did Walker really confess everything in the parking lot? Word is he continued confessing the whole time the cop read him his rights. The guy's nuts."
Kate nodded. "Or trying to make it appear he is. On the day of Amelia's murder, Mrs. Baxter saw him on the front porch and thought Walker had just arrived. But he'd been there for a few minutes and already poisoned Amelia by then. When Walker first arrived, no one else was in the house, and Amelia let him in. According to him, she then ordered him to go to the kitchen to act as servant to bring in the last cup of tea. He saw the lily of the valley, knew the danger from a lecture he'd once attended at the garden club. He claims it wasn't premeditated, that his anger at her made him act without reason. When he supposedly came to his senses he planted the stolen items to send suspicion my way."
