by Jaden Skye
“That’s a hell of a lot,” said Dowl. “Are you saying we have some weird stalker on our hands?”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.” Margaret became agitated. “I never called Andrea a weird stalker, and I never called Mort a peeping Tom.”
“This definitely implicates Andrea though, doesn’t it?” Angie jumped in. It was easy to see how badly he wanted to take the pressure off Christine.
There was nothing definite about it, though, Olivia thought. In fact, based upon Margaret’s statement, Christine seemed equally suspicious as well.
“Thanks very much for your time, Margaret.” Dowl stepped forward. “This is valuable information. You’ve been a help.”
That pleased Margaret very much. “Of course,” she said, glancing at Angie and smiling. “I told Angie I would do whatever I could to help find the killer. I don’t know how this helps, but I’m glad you think it did.”
Margaret walked toward the door then and Angie followed close after her.
“I’m not stopping,” Angie muttered, “until we’ve got all we need.”
After Angie and Margaret left, Olivia, Wayne, and Dowl looked at each other, puzzled.
“There’s possible motive here for both Andrea and Christine,” Dowl started. “At the moment, Andrea looks worse to me.”
“Agreed,” said Wayne. “It definitely could be that Andrea’s not completely in touch with reality.”
“Who is?” Olivia couldn’t help but remark.
Wayne looked at Olivia oddly.
“Of course, some are further out than others,” Olivia corrected herself. “Could be Andrea really thought Mort was her father and when she realized he wasn’t, it pushed her over the edge.”
“A revenge killing?” Dowl mused.
“It’s a possibility,” Olivia suggested, “but Christine also has intensely changing moods. I found it odd that she put that necklace on suddenly.”
“Nothing odd about it,” Dowl disagreed. “Christine’s trying to act as if things are normal. I’ve seen victims of loss behave this way plenty of times. Some never take the time to grieve, work things out, or get adjusted. They go on as if everything is the same and life hasn’t dealt them a horrible blow.”
For a moment Olivia wondered about herself. She, too, was a victim of a terrible loss when Todd had been murdered. She’d also plunged forward into a new life as a detective instantly. There had been one case after another, too. Olivia hadn’t had the time to stop and be aware of the choices she was making and the effects Todd’s death really had on her.
“Both women could look suspicious, for sure,” Wayne weighed in. “But there’s no hard evidence here yet. We need to get something definite before we can say we have a real person of interest.”
“Absolutely,” Olivia chimed in then. “And it may not be either of them. Let me go now, Nate’s been waiting for me outside. There’s something important he has to show me.”
Wayne jumped up and walked over to Olivia. “We need time to talk alone, too,” he said hurriedly. “It’s been too long.”
“I know,” said Olivia. “We’ll debrief after my meeting with Nate.”
*
Nate was restless when Olivia walked over to the bench he’d been waiting at.
“You sure took plenty of time,” he muttered.
“I’m so sorry, Nate,” breathed Olivia. “There are lots of different witnesses being questioned.”
Nate smirked. “I bet,” he said under his breath. “These cops can dredge up anyone to make it look good for them.”
Olivia got a cab quickly and she and Nate went back to his hotel.
“You wait for me down here,” he said when they arrived. “I’ll get the album and then we can go down to look at it on Ardon Lane. I like it there.”
“Sure thing,” said Olivia, getting out of the cab and waiting for Nate outside. His hotel was a long, wooden building near the beach. From where she stood, Olivia could watch the evening clouds come in and smell the salty ocean sir. She wondered where Ardon Lane was and how Nate had found it.
Olivia then thought about her time at the police station and was glad that Wayne had seemed so eager to speak to her alone. He was right, it had been a while since they’d had time to go over things privately. She missed it as well.
In a few minutes Nate came running out, holding a big bag with something stuffed in it. It had to be the photo album, thought Olivia.
“Let’s walk this way,” said Nate, turning to the right and saying nothing further as they walked down to the edge of the hotel and then turned down a hill, to a dirt road that ended near a clump of old trees, rocks, and sand.
“The place looks like a cemetery, doesn’t it?” Nate asked, looking around.
It didn’t really, and Olivia felt uneasy at Nate’s remark.
“Sit down on the sand,” said Nate, as he walked a few steps and planted himself on a tree stump. “Rain’s coming tonight, but it’s not here yet and the sand won’t be damp.”
Olivia sat down on the sand as Nate pulled the photo album out of the bag and grabbed it tightly to him. Just the idea of opening it up seemed to upset him and he started scowling again.
“It’s hard to look at the pictures, isn’t it?” Olivia remarked.
“No, it isn’t,” Nate shot back. “I actually like looking at them. The last few months my father became more and more distant. He hardly looked at me at all. I knew something awful was brewing. When I asked him about it, he just turned away. So I can look at him now all I like.”
“What did you think was bothering your father?” Olivia was troubled.
“Just take a look at these photos, and you tell me!” Nate shot back. “The first few pages are photos of when we were young. The rest are recent.”
He yanked open the album and began at the first page. As Nate had said, in the beginning were photos of Mort and Heidi, with their family when the children were little. They looked like a normal, happy family, smiling out at them from the past.
“Beautiful,” said Olivia.
“Yeah, it was beautiful for a little while, maybe.” Nate’s face contorted as he went on.
Nate flipped the pages fast and to Olivia’s horror, there were photos of both Penny and Lance filling a couple of pages.
“What are their pictures doing here?” Olivia asked, aghast.
“That’s what I asked myself,” Nate muttered. “Who are these two? What are they doing in my dad’s album? There were no names listed for them, either.”
“Didn’t you ask your dad?” Olivia managed to ask.
“No, why should I?” said Nate. “I smelled something fishy and I wanted to see what other photos he added to the batch.”
Nate began moving the pages forward and before long they were in the present. Olivia now found herself looking at the streets of Nashville.
“Your father took these pictures?” she asked.
“He took some of them,” Nate answered harshly, “and I took some, too.”
To Olivia’s shock, she suddenly saw several photos of Andrea, in at least six different places at obviously different times. Andrea had made it clear that she’d only been in Nashville once or twice.
She’d lied about that! What else had she lied about? Once you found one lie, there was a chink in the armor that couldn’t be mended.
Nate turned another page quickly, and there was Andrea again, wearing the exact same necklace Christine had worn that very afternoon!
“How did Andrea get that necklace?” Olivia was jarred. “It belongs to Christine!”
“Christine designed that necklace for her line. She probably has a bunch of them. My father must have given Andrea one of them. Jackass! He was a jackass!”
Olivia was stunned. That was a strange gift to give Andrea. Was Mort secretly taunting both women? Did he enjoy turning one woman against another?
“How did you get this photo, Nate?” Olivia was appalled.
“I told you, I knew something was u
p, so, towards the end, I followed my father around and took photos of him and the people he was around. This was one of them.”
“Was he there when you took this?” asked Olivia.
“Of course he was. How else could I have found her?” Nate looked oddly pleased with himself.
“Your father had no idea you were there, photographing her?” Olivia was incredulous.
“None at all. I know how to hide and blend in.” Nate smiled.
“Your father had no idea that you knew Andrea?” Olivia was amazed.
“No, he didn’t. He might have been smart but he still was a jackass!”
“That’s why you were so annoyed with Andrea when you met her at the station,” Olivia suddenly realized.
“Annoyed’s putting it mildly.” Nate rubbed his hand on the tree stump. “I knew who she was from the get-go.”
It certainly seemed as if Mort and Andrea had been having an affair behind the backs of both of his wives. Olivia stared at the brazen photos of Andrea flaunting Mort’s wife’s jewelry, obviously wanting to take her place. Was this the hard evidence they’d been waiting for?
“Let me see more,” asked Olivia, breathlessly.
“You’ve seen what you need.” Nate threw Olivia a strange glance when her phone rang loudly.
“Give me a second, Nate,” Olivia said, as she reached over to take the call. “You never know what’s happening next. Hello?” said Olivia.
“Olivia, it’s Wayne.” He sounded urgent.
“I’m with Nate, now,” Olivia replied.
“Are you sitting down? There’s a new development,” Wayne went on hurriedly.
“Oh my God, what?” asked Olivia.
“Christine just got a threatening phone call telling her she’s next!” he replied.
“A call from who?” Olivia’s head was spinning.
“The caller hung up. We’re trying to trace it,” said Wayne.
“Oh my,” replied Olivia. “When did the call come in?”
“A little while ago.” Wayne was agitated. “Angie’s totally freaking out. He swears he’ll kill anyone who harms his sister. Lance is terrified too. Reporters are blasting the story all over now, asking the public for leads. Between you and me, all eyes are on Andrea, though.”
Olivia’s mind began racing, thinking of the photos she’d just seen. She couldn’t bring herself to say a word about them yet. Too much was happening at once. She wanted to be careful.
“The police want you to go and talk to Andrea again, immediately. You’re good with women. They feel safe with you, Olivia,” Wayne went on.
“Thanks,” Olivia breathed.
“Go and find out whatever else you can about Andrea’s relationship with Mort and what she was doing in Nashville, exactly. Who did she see when she went there? See if you think she could have made the call.”
“I’m right on it,” Olivia replied instantly.
“Good,” said Wayne. “I’m teaming up now with Angie and a few cops. We’re dead set on tracking down the caller. Once we do, the case will be solved.”
“Maybe,” Olivia replied softly.
“No maybes about this one!” Wayne was adamant. “The caller threatened Christine’s life.”
Olivia took a long shot. “It could have been Christine herself for all we know. It would be a wonderful way to take suspicion away from herself and place it somewhere else, wouldn’t it?”
“Far-fetched,” Wayne replied. “Just get tough with Andrea as soon as you can. My money’s on her. And so is everyone else’s.”
“I’ll do my best,” Olivia answered, not clear why she just didn’t feel Andrea was the killer.
Olivia turned back to Nate swiftly. “I’m sorry Nate. It’s an emergency. Someone called and told Christine she was next. I’ve got to go immediately and talk to Andrea now.”
Nate took it in slowly. “Wow,” he finally said. “The cops are convinced it’s Andrea, aren’t they?”
“It doesn’t look good for her,” Olivia commented.
Nate’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, so go. I’ll show you the rest of the pictures later.”
Olivia felt a great wave of appreciation for Nate. Despite his young years, she felt as though she were with an older person.
“I really appreciate who you are, Nate, and how calm you’re being,” Olivia remarked.
Nate laughed. “I’m always calm,” he replied softly. “If you’re not calm how can you see what’s right in front of your nose?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Olivia arranged to meet Andrea down at the beach immediately, not far from the scene of the crime. By the time Andrea arrived, heavy clouds had set in and the light of day was quickly fading. This was where Mort had often enjoyed walking and where he had been brutally attacked. Olivia wondered if the spot would affect Andrea.
“What’s the emergency?” Andrea asked as she rushed over to Olivia.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” Olivia said, suddenly feeling sad for Andrea, who now seemed so forlorn.
“You said there was an emergency, what is it?” Andrea repeated, obviously tied up in knots.
“Christine just got a call from someone threatening her life,” Olivia bluntly replied. “The caller warned that she was next.”
Andrea lifted her hand to her hair, which the wind was blowing helter-skelter, and smoothed it out rapidly.
“Making a call like that was a stupid thing to do,” Andrea remarked. “The police will trace it and bring the idiot in. Then they’ll blame the person for Mort’s murder.”
“It may not be so easy to trace the call,” Olivia replied. “Who would do something like that?”
“How would I know?” Andrea looked out over the waves. “Mort loved it down here. He used to come here often.”
“Did you come here with him?” Olivia picked right up on it.
“What makes you ask that?” Andrea looked startled.
“Did you come here together often?” Olivia proceeded intensely.
“Who told you that?” Andrea quivered a moment.
“No one,” Olivia replied. “I put the pieces together myself.”
“What pieces?” Andrea began to grow frightened.
“They were easy to put together,” Olivia taunted Andrea, hoping she would unravel and speak the truth.
“I suppose they are easy to put together if you have half a brain in your head.” Andrea began breathing heavily.
“You’ve got to tell me everything you know!” Olivia demanded fiercely. “Did you two come here together often?”
“No, I knew Mort’s schedule,” Andrea suddenly shot back at her. “When he came here, I would arrive separately. Sometimes I’d slip behind the dune grass and watch him amble along. Other times I’d walk by him on the beach as if we were meeting by coincidence.”
Olivia felt chills run up and down her arm. Was Andrea a stalker? Had she driven both Mort and Christine crazy injecting herself into their lives?
“Didn’t Mort realize that your meeting wasn’t a coincidence?” Olivia became bolder.
“If he did, he didn’t say anything about it.” Andrea winced.
“You were after him, weren’t you?” demanded Olivia.
Andrea laughed. “I wouldn’t put it that way, exactly.”
“Andrea.” Olivia stepped much closer to her, cornering her now. “This isn’t a time for hiding. You’ve got to tell me everything you know,” Olivia threatened.
“What makes you think I’m hiding? I came right away to see you, didn’t I? Mort’s death has hit me harder than anyone else.” Andrea’s voice had a strange whimpering tone.
“But you’re still playing games with me,” Olivia dug in.
“I never play games,” Andrea retorted as the surf beat more strongly on the sand.
“Yes, you do.” Olivia decided to lay everything on the line. “You just said you pretended you just ran into Mort at the beach coincidentally.”
“A little white lie.” Andrea halted an
d shrugged.
“And you lied to me other times too, didn’t you?” Olivia had Andrea where she wanted her now.
Andrea shivered. “What are you talking about?”
“You told us you were only in Nashville a couple of times at most, right?” Olivia exclaimed.
“Right,” Andrea agreed.
“But I saw six pictures of you there,” Olivia continued. “Were you stalking Mort in Nashville, too?”
“Pictures of me?” Andrea became alarmed. “What kind of pictures? Who took them?”
“Pictures of you walking around on the streets.” Olivia was glad to see Andrea’s fear intensify. “In one of them you were even wearing Christine’s necklace.”
Andrea stopped cold. “Where did you get those pictures?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“You have to tell me!” Andrea was now thoroughly alarmed. “Who took those pictures? Where did you get them?”
Olivia refused to answer.
Andrea dug her feet into the sand and stared. “I know who,” she breathed finally. “It was Mort’s crazy son, Nate! Right?”
“What makes you think that?” Olivia wouldn’t let her off the hook.
“Because Nate liked to follow his father around and take all kinds of pictures. Mort complained to me about him plenty of times. Nate thought he was doing it secretly, but Mort knew everything.”
“Mort wasn’t close to his son?” Olivia was fascinated.
“Mort hated him,” Andrea hissed. “He was ashamed of Nate and made no bones about it. That kid is a freak.”
Olivia was shocked. “I like Nate,” she said.
“Well, you’re the only one who does,” Andrea spit out. “Nate even has trouble in school. Yes, he’s a gifted photographer, I’ll grant him that. But ask his teachers. He makes trouble for everyone, and also has a weird gun collection.”
