Read and Gone

by Allison Brook

  “What do you mean, after checking out every possible place?” Even from where I stood, I saw Dina’s eyes register shock and disgust. “Did you follow Carrie to my father’s cabin and attack her?”

  Chris shrugged. “I had to know what you girls were up to.”

  “And did you follow my mother last night and stick a knife in her like you did my father?”

  “Of course not!” Chris let loose a false laugh. “Are you crazy? Do you think for one minute I’d murder your parents, even though you didn’t give a rat’s ass about either one of them after the way they treated you?”

  Dina backed away from Chris, as if he were radioactive. “Of course it was you. Who else could have done it? You killed my father and took off before Carrie’s father came into the store. Then all you had to do was change your clothes and go to work, same as always and pretend you were shocked to see him lying there dead when you murdered him!”

  Chris put his hand over Dina’s mouth. “Stop shouting,” he said, so softly I could barely hear him. “No need to bring any of your relatives out here.”

  “Why did you have to kill them? Why?”

  “Because they were both hypocrites, both stupid, selfish people who made our lives miserable.”

  Dina sniffed. “You didn’t have to work for my father. When you found out what he was really like, you should have quit. As for my mother—she was raised to think the right background and appearances were what mattered. She didn’t know any other way to think or to live.”

  “She must have figured out that Jennifer had the gems, same as I did, though I can’t imagine how she expected to make Jennifer hand them over.”

  “You followed her and killed her.”

  Chris shrugged. “She didn’t care about you, what you wanted. She didn’t like my background, so she told you not to see me.”

  Dina stamped her foot. “She was my mother, damn you.”

  Chris made a scoffing sound. “And no longer around to tell you what to do. You should thank me, is what you should be doing.”

  Dina shook her head and started for the house.

  “Where are you going?” Chris demanded.

  “Inside.”

  “Will you tell the police?”

  She shot him a look of contempt. “What do you think?”

  He sprang on her like a wild animal and wrapped his hands around her neck. “No, you won’t.”

  “Let go of her!” I was amazed at how fierce I sounded, when I was quaking inside.

  Chris growled when he saw me. “I should have taken you out when I had the chance.”

  He ran after me. At first I was too frightened to move, but as he drew nearer, my legs started pumping.

  “Help!” Dina shouted. She swung open the back door to her house.

  Chris stopped suddenly and let out a string of curses. His eyes darted from Dina to me, momentarily uncertain what to do. He must have decided to deal with me since I was closer, but I raced around the side of the house and made a beeline for the front door. Be unlocked. Please! Someone come out and stop him!

  I felt his warm breath on my cheek as he closed in on me. A car screeched to a halt in the street. Dylan flew out followed by my father, as Chris gripped my shoulder.

  “Let her go!” Dylan shouted.

  “Let her go, damn you!” my father yelled, several paces behind.

  Chris let loose another string of curses as he released me. His head darted from side to side, searching for an escape route.

  “Better give yourself up,” I said.

  He glared at me, then made a dash for it, past Dylan’s reach. I watched him go, surprised at his speed, given his stocky build. But then, he was running for his life.

  Of course Chris had no idea that the car speeding toward him was driven by Danny Brower, Clover Ridge Police Department’s rookie, who’d broken several Clover Ridge High School track and field records five years earlier. Danny stopped the car. He sprinted after Chris and tackled him. His partner joined them and removed the bag of gems from inside Chris’s jacket. Danny handcuffed Chris and led him to their cruiser.

  “What are you doing here?” my father demanded of me.

  “What were you thinking?” Dylan yelled.

  They each tried to hug me, making me feel like the center of a tug of war. I finally broke free. “He was about to hurt Dina. I only wanted to distract him. Thank God you arrived in time.”

  Another police car pulled up, this one driven by John Mathers. He stopped to talk to Danny. Finally, Danny drove off and John walked over to join us.

  “I thought I told you to stay put,” he thundered at me.

  “I was on my way here when I called you,” I pointed out. “You wouldn’t have known Chris was coming to see Dina if I hadn’t told you.”

  John shook his head in disgust. “What did you hope to do—convince Crowley to give himself up?”

  “Carrie saw Chris was choking me,” Dina said. “She was only trying to help.”

  She’d come outside, as had five or six people whom I assumed were Parr relatives, there to pay their respects because of Mariel’s demise.

  Richard Parr approached and shook my hand. “I’m Dina’s brother, Rich. Thank you for all you’ve done to ID my parents’ killer and for protecting my sister just now.”

  “You’re welcome,” I murmured, not sure if that was the correct response.

  “What’s going on out here?” a red-faced man with jowls demanded of John. “This is a house of mourning.”

  John raised his voice to address the visitors. “I’m Lieutenant John Mathers of the Clover Ridge Police Department. I’m asking that all of you go back inside the house. As soon as I’ve had a chat with Miss Parr, I’ll explain what just transpired and answer all your questions.”

  Dina allowed John to lead her up the steps to the front door. Instead of going inside, he spun around and glared at me, “And I’ll be talking to you later, Miss Singleton, so don’t you disappear on me.”

  “He’s really pissed at you,” Dylan observed as the three of us walked toward the parked cars.

  “She gave him a fright,” my father said. “Caro, dear, you gave us all a fright.”

  “Me too,” I admitted. “I promised myself I wouldn’t do anything stupid. I never intended to say a word while Dina and Chris were talking, but I was afraid Chris was going to choke Dina when he realized she intended to give him up to the police.”

  “I don’t think you should drive,” Dylan and my father said at the same time when we reached the street.

  “I don’t think I should, either. Dad, I’ll go home with Dylan if you’ll drive my car to the cottage.”

  “Of course. Whatever you say.”

  Dylan grinned, pleased that I’d chosen him to do the honors. He turned up his palms and said to my father, “Carrie always likes me to drive her home after she’s landed a killer.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Except for the phone call Dylan made—I assumed to his boss saying the gems from the Farthingale heist had been recovered and he’d have more information shortly—we rode to the cottage in silence. As soon as we shed our jackets, Dylan headed for the bar in the living room and poured us each three fingers of scotch.

  “Here, Carrie. My father always downed a shot or two of scotch after experiencing a shock to the system. And this one was a doozy.”

  I sat down on the sofa and sipped. Scotch wasn’t my favorite, but I appreciated the feeling of warmth that immediately circulated through my system.

  “So that’s it,” I said. “Jennifer had the gems all this time, and Chris murdered three people to get them.”

  “Looks that way, though I’m betting his deep resentment toward both Benton and Mariel Parr was a factor.” Dylan sat beside me and put his arm around me.

  I rested my head against his chest and sighed. “I’m glad everything’s resolved, but I feel kind of—left in the air.”

  Dylan laughed. “That’s because the chase is over, the story’s
ended. It’s kind of a letdown, after all the excitement.”

  “The story’s over, but there’s no happily ever after.”

  “That’s for sure,” Dylan agreed. “Three people are dead because Chris Crowley was determined to get his hands on twenty million dollars’ worth of stolen gems that I bet very few fences would venture to touch.”

  “Twenty million!” I exclaimed. “I thought! I mean, my father said—”

  Dylan grinned. “The morning of the heist, Mr. Farthingale placed five very special sapphires in the safe. They were stolen as well. As for the other gems—mostly diamonds and sapphires—the smallest are two carats in weight and go up from there. Some are uncut stones.”

  “No wonder the bag felt so heavy! I can’t wait to get a look at those amazing gems.” I turned to Dylan. “I can—can’t I—see them before you take them back to their owner?”

  “I think that can be arranged. And I won’t be bringing them back. There will be a special armored car escorting them back to Illinois.”

  “Hard to imagine those expensive jewels were sitting in a little space under a heating register in the library.”

  “And if it weren’t for Smoky Joe, we wouldn’t have found them until Jennifer tried to fence them. Maybe not even then.”

  “I wonder what Benton was waiting for. Why he hadn’t cashed them in all those months,” I mused.

  “Could be he didn’t know someone he could trust who handled such expensive gems. Or he was on the lookout for an expert diamond cutter who knew how to cut the stones with a minimum of waste.”

  Dylan glanced at his watch. “I’m going to have to leave you shortly. I need to run down to the police station—talk to John, interview Jennifer, and examine the gems. My boss is expecting a detailed report on them. He shook his head. “I’m afraid I’ll be up to my neck in paperwork until we go to Harriet and Bosco’s tomorrow. Ordinarily, on a big case such as this, I’d have to fly to the main office in Atlanta, but since it’s Christmas, I’m getting a few days’ reprieve.”

  “I understand,” I said, biting back my disappointment. Does that mean he has to fly off on Monday? Is this how our relationship is going to play out?

  A knock on the door stopped my negative train of thought. I hurried to let my father inside. Jim was looking tired and washed out. I felt a pang of guilt. In the excitement of finding the gems and tracking Chris Crowley to Dina’s house, I’d neglected to look after him properly. How could I have forgotten that he’d just come from the hospital after falling the night before? Was it only last night that Mariel and Dina were here having dinner with us? After today’s events it felt like more than a month had passed.

  I took Jim’s arm and walked him into the living room. “Come sit down, Dad.”

  He sank into a chair and closed his eyes. “Caro, dear, I’m beat. Would you mind getting my overnight bag from Dylan’s car?”

  “I’ll get it,” Dylan said, rising to his feet, “and then I’d better get going.”

  “Dad, should you be taking any meds?”

  He reached in the pocket of his parka and pulled out a plastic vial of pills. “The doc wants me to take anti-seizure medicine—just in case—and something for the pain. I could use one right now.”

  I brought him a glass of water, and he swallowed two pills. “I’m wiped out. Think I’ll crawl into bed for a nap.”

  “Need any help?”

  “No, thanks. I just want to sleep. Seeing that guy coming after you scared the hell out of me.”

  “I’m sorry I upset you.”

  “Don’t you ever be sorry, Caro. It’s for me to regret missing those years with you and your brother.” He turned quickly, but not before I saw the tear trickling down his cheek.

  “Here you go,” Dylan said. He carried my father’s overnight bag into the guest room. “’Bye, Jim. See you tomorrow.”

  My father struggled to his feet. I stopped myself from running to help him. “Thanks for picking me up at the hospital,” he told Dylan.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  He shuffled off to his bedroom. Dylan and I stood in the hallway, holding each other close.

  “He’s knocked out,” Dylan said. “He’ll probably sleep most of the afternoon.”

  “I’m in for a very quiet evening,” I said.

  “Maybe it’s for the best, considering all you’ve been through.” He kissed me. “Talk to you later.”

  I closed the door behind him, suddenly feeling abandoned. Silly. Dylan has work to do. He can’t stay here and hold your hand. Still, the silence in the cottage, with my father asleep in the guest room and no Smoky Joe dashing about, added to my sense of isolation.

  I turned on the radio to a classical music station and gazed out at the river. I knew I should be feeling a sense of satisfaction for having helped solve the murders and finding the missing gems. Instead, I felt depleted, as though I’d just lost my job. Which was ridiculous because my job was overseeing programs in the library, not chasing murder suspects and thieves. I supposed I was experiencing the letdown that Dylan had described. It will pass, I told myself.

  I must have dozed off on the sofa, because the sound of the doorbell jolted me awake. I ran to the front door to let in an excited Angela. “It’s all on the news! The police have Chris Crowley in custody. He’s being arraigned for the three homicides.”

  Smoky Joe butted his head against my leg to remind me that I hadn’t greeted him properly. I bent down to rub the back of his head, which he loved. Then, bushy tail in the air, he led me to the kitchen. As I dished cat food onto his plate, I filled Angela in on what had happened after I’d left the library.

  When I finished, she had the same look of horror and dismay on her face as I’d seen on Dylan, my father, and John’s. “My God, Carrie! You could have been seriously hurt! Murdered, even.”

  “Chris had his hands around Dina’s neck. I had to call out to distract him. I didn’t expect him to come after me. Lucky for me, he wasn’t carrying a knife.”

  “Hah! Most likely he didn’t want to get caught red-handed with a weapon in broad daylight.” Angela shot me a sly look. “You must be especially pleased about finding the gems.”

  I made a face. “Why? Because Dylan’s closed his case? Right now he’s making calls and doing paperwork. He’ll probably have to fly off after the holiday.”

  “But think, Carrie, you’ll get that hefty reward for finding the gems.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. I only discovered them because I followed Smoky Joe to the register at the back of the coffee shop.”

  Angela laughed. “You removed the bag of gems from the well beneath the register. Besides, they give out rewards to people, not cats.”

  “Only to have Chris grab it and take off.”

  She waved her hand. “A moot point, my dear, since you led Dylan and the police to the Parrs’ house, where he’d gone. The gems were recovered. They’re going back where they belong. Talk to Dylan. See if he doesn’t say I’m right.”

  My father walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. I introduced them.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Jim,” Angela said, shaking his hand. “Carrie’s been filling me in on her latest murder case.”

  “Latest?” my father asked.

  I shrugged. “I helped catch another murderer.”

  Too late, Angela realized she’d said the wrong thing. “I’d better get going,” she said, reaching for her pocketbook. “I’ll call Sally from the car. She’ll want to hear every detail of your latest adventure.”

  “Hungry?” I asked my father, who’d sat down at the table.

  “I’d give anything for a batch of softly scrambled eggs and a lightly toasted bagel.”

  “Coming right up. Coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee would be nice.”

  I retrieved the necessary ingredients from the refrigerator, and what had become my favorite frying pan from the pots and pans drawer, and got to work.

  “I’m going to miss all this,”
Jim said as he gazed around the kitchen.

  I stopped beating the eggs to stare at him. “You’re leaving?”

  “Probably early next week. By then I should be steady on my feet.”

  “But—what’s the rush?”

  “Come on, Caro, you knew I’d be moving on, soon as my business here was done. Now that the gems are going back to their previous owner, there’s nothing stopping me here from taking off.”

  Previous owner? Nothing stopping you from taking off? “Well, thank you very much.”

  “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love you, but I’m running short of cash. It’s time I started earning some money.”

  “Earning? That’s a laugh. I wish you’d find a way to make money some legitimate way.”

  My father cleared his throat as if he were embarrassed. “Dylan happened to mention that his company might be interested in hiring me as a consultant.”

  “You? A consultant for an insurance company?” I burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny? How many ex-cons work with the police, giving them tips on how houses are burgled, how they choose their marks. And former drug addicts promote antidrug programs.”

  “I’d be very happy if you took the job,” I said. “That way I’ll know you’re keeping out of trouble.”

  “And I wish you’d stop chasing killers. For God’s sake, you’re a librarian, not an investigator.”

  Having both said our piece, I poured the egg mixture into the heated frying pan and started stirring.

  When I saw my father happily slurping his coffee and biting into his toast, I reheated some of last night’s leftovers for my own dinner. John called to say he’d be at the cottage in a few minutes to interview Jim and me.

  “Fine,” I said and added a generous portion of food to the casserole dish before returning it to the microwave.

  John arrived, hungry and exhausted. His eyes took on a glow when I invited him to sit down at the table and have a bite with us. After he’d eaten a good portion of his pasta and meatballs, he brought us up to speed.

  “At first Crowley insisted he hadn’t murdered anyone. But after I told him what Dina told us, he broke down and admitted he’d killed Benton and Mariel Parr and Tom Quincy. His mother, Stella Crowley, came down to the station and tried to get him to stop talking. She hired a lawyer, who arrived shortly, but we got it down, all legal and proper.”