by B. J Daniels
The tea.
Jonathan. He’d put something in her tea. She glanced toward her bottle of sleeping pills beside the bed, barely able to keep her eyes open. The bottle still looked full. Apparently he didn’t intend to kill her. Just put her out for the night?
Fighting to stay awake long enough, she hid the papers to read in the morning and stumbled to her bed. As sleep took her, she worried what it was that Jonathan feared she was going to find out. And to what extremes he would go to stop her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DR. BRUBAKER FOUND the chief of police slumped in the chair beside his wife’s bed sound asleep the next morning.
Like Doc, Nash had stayed the night at the hospital. Brubaker just hoped he didn’t look as bad as the chief of police did.
Nash stirred as Doc checked his patient. Lucinda was sleeping peacefully. The spotting had stopped. The baby was fine. At least for the moment.
As Nash opened his eyes, he whispered, “The baby?”
Brubaker motioned Nash to follow him. He said nothing until he reached his office and closed the door.
“Have a seat,” he said to Nash.
The chief of police looked nervous as he took the chair across from Brubaker’s desk.
“How long have we known each other, Rob?”
“What kind of question is that? All our lives.” Nash ran a hand over his face. “I just want to know how my wife and baby are.”
“Fine. For the moment.”
“She can’t lose this baby.” Nash covered his face with his hands for a moment.
“If you want this baby, Rob, then you have to start taking care of your wife.”
Nash nodded, head down. “I want this baby.” He raised his head. “I love my wife. I would do anything for her.”
“She needs bed rest. No stress. Did she get the vitamins I told her to start taking?” He could see that Nash didn’t know. “Maybe you could hire someone to come in—”
“No,” Nash said. “I have vacation time I can take until my retirement papers go through.”
Brubaker raised a brow. “What about this murder case?”
“Walker is handling it.”
If that was supposed to give him comfort, it didn’t. The doctor had seen how Walker was handling it. “I thought you would have called in the state by now.”
“Walker’s more than capable,” Nash said. “The state will provide any resources he needs.”
Doc nodded. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
The chief of police frowned. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. You seem distracted, upset, worried.”
“I’m worried about my wife and baby,” Nash snapped. “That’s all.”
“Okay. Just make sure you don’t do anything to upset Lucinda.”
“I’ll take care of Lucinda,” Nash said. “I’d protect her and the baby with my life.”
ANNA WOKE THE NEXT MORNING to gray sky. She’d slept fitfully even after locking her bedroom door and putting a chair under the doorknob. She hated feeling scared but this family, with all its dysfunction, would make anyone uneasy.
She showered and dressed, still tired but too restless to try to sleep. This morning she felt even more confused and frustrated. She had hoped Ruth Fairbanks would provide her with the answers she needed. But apparently the Fairbanks matriarch was as much in the dark as Anna herself.
Nor was Anna at all convinced this morning that the man she’d seen in the woods last night was Jack Fairbanks. If Jack was alive, why would he hang around in the shadows? Unless he really did have something to fear. Something more than the repercussions of having let everyone think he was dead.
She stepped to the rain-streaked window only to find the lake cloaked in clouds.
Anna felt the weight of her life as she tried to fight off the depression, the grief. She’d thought she could finally find justice for Tyler, but instead all she’d found was more misery.
What had ever made her think that finding the hit-and-run driver would give her any peace? Gillian would still be alive if Anna had just let it go.
She turned away from the window. That had been her problem her whole life—her inability to let go once she’d set upon a path. She should have left Marc years ago, right after Tyler was born. How different their lives might have been.
No changing the past. Nor did she want to think about her future. She didn’t want to think at all and couldn’t bear another moment inside this room.
Grabbing her jacket, she headed for the door, hoping not to run into any of the Fairbankses yet this morning. Cautiously Anna cracked open her door and peeked down the hallway. The sconces lit the wide gleaming hallway with a faint golden glow. Hallway empty. She pushed the door all the way open and then, after closing it quietly behind her, headed for the stairs.
There was a tangible gloom that hung over the house. Was this what Jack Fairbanks had tried to escape? Had escaped until he rescued her?
She shivered as she recalled the dark figure in the trees. But nothing unnerved her as much as Jonathan Fairbanks. She’d lived with a bitter man, so she recognized the barely contained fury beneath even the most congenial demeanor. What had caused such anger? she wondered. The accident that had crippled him? Or his jealousy of his brother, Jack?
Anna was still frankly shocked that Pet was sleeping with her deceased husband’s brother. Did Pet know something? Is that why she drowned herself in alcohol?
At the top of the stairs, Anna stopped to peer down. No sign of anyone, but she could hear the rattle of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Tiptoeing down the stairs, she made her way to the front door. But when she reached it, she saw the security system light was on. She knew that if she opened the door she would set off an alarm and wake the whole household.
Disappointed, she did the next best thing. She’d glimpsed a library as she was being hauled out the first night she’d come here. Did she dare venture down there for a book to read?
Her biggest fear was running into Jonathan, but she didn’t want to see Pet or Ruth, either. Not even the servants who seemed to be busy at the back of the house. She knew better than anyone that money couldn’t buy happiness. Marc used to say she should be grateful for all she had, meaning him and the luxuries their lifestyle afforded.
But no matter how nice, a house became a prison when the people who lived there were unhappy.
Was that how Jack had felt?
The library door was like the others in the house, thick solid wood. Anna hesitated before turning the knob. The room was dark, the thick drapes on the windows closed. But as she stepped in, groping for the light switch, she saw a wedge of light coming from a floor lamp on the other side of one of the bookshelves at the far end of the massive room. Someone was already in here.
Anna took a step back, trying to ease the door shut behind her without attracting notice.
But before she could escape, she heard someone let out a gasp, which was immediately followed by the sound of glass breaking. The light went out. Anna froze, too shocked to move until she heard what could only be a body hitting the floor.
ELSIE MATHEWS LIVED IN A small ranch-type house south of Seattle. Bright yellow daffodils filled all the flower beds along with a half-dozen ceramic yard ornaments that Walker thought at first were supposed to be elves.
As he rang Elsie’s doorbell, he looked down and into the face of one them and realized they were trolls, their faces leering eerily out from behind the flowers with almost evil intent.
Inside the house, a small dog yapped and he heard a woman’s voice reprimanding, “Baby, be quiet.” A moment later a short, round, elderly woman opened the door holding a tiny black poodle. The dog’s eyes gleamed above a protruding pink tongue.
“Yes?” the woman asked.
Walker had called ahead to make sure Elsie Mathews was going to be home and she’d said she would be happy to talk to him. “I’m OfficerWalker from Shadow Lake,” he reminded her.
“Wel
l, come on in then.”
He pulled off his hat and followed her into a room filled with flowered furniture, wallpaper and pillows. The effect was chaotic.
She motioned for him to sit down as she lowered herself and the dog into a large recliner aimed at the television in the corner. The TV was on, the sound turned down.
“As I told you on the phone, I wanted to ask you about the hit-and-run accident that you witnessed about eight months ago,” Walker said.
“Can’t imagine why you’d be asking about that,” she said, glancing at the television for a moment. He feared one of her soap operas might be on, but it appeared to be only an infomercial for exercise equipment. “It’s been months since that happened.”
He nodded, concerned this trip had been a waste of time. “I know it’s been a while, but could you tell me what you saw that night?”
“I suppose I could, although I don’t see what good it will do. You folks didn’t catch them the last time I told you. Can’t see how you think you will now.” She sighed deeply. “I was out walking Baby. Baby’s my dog,” she said, giving the canine on her lap a pat. “This big black SUV practically ran me over, going way too fast as it went past me. I walk Baby on the edge of the road. We don’t have any sidewalks out here, you know.”
“The SUV was black?” he asked quickly, hoping to derail her from taking off on a discourse about her lack of sidewalks.
“Black or some dark color. Anyway, I saw the lights of a car coming from the other direction and picked up Baby an instant before that big SUV ran right into that car. There was a terrible crash. Baby was trembling in my arms.”
“Are you saying the SUV crossed the center line?” Walker asked.
“It looked to me as if the driver swerved right in front of the car with that woman and child,” she said.
“Did you tell the police that?” He knew she hadn’t.
“I was so upset that night, I’m not sure what I told them. But after I thought about it, I wondered if the driver hadn’t been drinking. He was driving way too fast and rather erratic.”
“Earlier you said ‘they’ passed you. Was there a passenger in the car?”
She frowned. “I suppose I did say that. Maybe there was. I might have seen someone. You know it’s funny you would ask that. I had the impression there was someone else in the car when it went by. I think the windows were down because I recalled voices. Like two people arguing. But then when the rig came roaring in reverse at me, I thought I only saw the driver. I didn’t mention it to the police at the time. Thought they’d think I was nuts.”
“What happened then?”
“Nothing for a moment, then there was the roar of the SUV’s motor as the driver reversed and came racing right at me. I jumped back, afraid he didn’t see me. But just before he reached us, he shot forward and took off, throwing up gravel from the edge of the road, scaring me and Baby half out of our wits.”
“The driver was a man?”
“Only a man would take off without trying to help that poor woman and her little boy,” Elsie said emphatically.
“Can you describe the driver?”
Elsie shook her head. “I never saw his face.”
“How about the vehicle,” Walker said, leaning toward her. “Was there anything on the windows or the side of the vehicle?”
“You mean like one of those signs?” She shook her head, then frowned. “There was something on the bumper. One of those political stickers.”
“Do you remember which one?”
She nodded. “My neighbor had one of the fellow’s signs in her yard for weeks before the election. I think they should outlaw those eyesores, don’t you?”
“Was it a candidate I might have heard of?” he asked quickly.
“Fair-something or other. I didn’t vote for him. Didn’t like the looks of the Senator.”
“Jim Fairbanks?”
“That’s the one. But it’s odd when you think about it.”
“How is that?” Walker was wondering how many cars had Senator Fairbanks stickers on them. Hundreds? Thousands?
“I don’t think the man who owned that SUV voted for him, either.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Well, if you wanted other people to vote for your candidate, why would you paste something over the name to make it look silly?” she demanded.
Walker didn’t know what to say. “As quickly as all this happened, you were able to see what had been pasted over the bumper sticker?” And in the dark, which he didn’t add.
“I saw the bumper because it was right in my face,” Elsie said indignantly. “He practically forced me and Baby into the ditch when he backed up like that. That bumper came so close to me that I would have had to be blind to not see it. But it was when he sped off that I saw the fish.”
“The fish?” Walker mentally kicked himself to think he’d gotten up before daylight to drive all the way over here for nothing.
“It glowed. Couldn’t miss a thing like that. My granddaughter has the stars on her bedroom ceiling,” Elsie was explaining. “I think they’re silly. Who needs something that glows in the dark when you turn the lights off? Do you know what I’m talking about?”
Walker felt his breath rush from his lungs. He knew exactly what she was talking about—and where he’d seen just such a fish.
ANNA SNAPPED ON THE OVERHEAD light and lunged into the library. As she rounded the end of the last bookshelf, she saw the broken glass scattered on the floor surrounding the fallen floor lamp. Next to it, Ruth Fairbanks lay crumpled on the floor.
“Ruth. Oh God, what’s wrong?” she cried, rushing to her. Ruth was gasping for breath, holding her chest, her eyes wide.
“Take,” she whispered. “Burn them.” She clutched at Anna’s jacket sleeve and thrust two sheets of half-folded papers at her. Anna saw that Ruth had a small fire going in the fireplace and that several other sheets of paper had been thrown into the flames and were now ashes.
Anna tried to pull free to go to the phone to call 911 and alert the rest of the household, but Ruth was insistent that she take the papers first.
When Anna did, Ruth let go of her sleeve and collapsed back on the floor, unconscious.
Anna rushed to the desk, grabbed up the phone on the desk and dialed 911. Before emergency services answered, she shoved the papers into the pocket of her jacket, wondering what could be so important that Ruth had been so insistent that she burn them before even calling for help.
After talking to the 911 operator, she pushed the call button and Carol came swiftly into the room. Anna saw at once that the maid had been expecting to see Ruth Fairbanks in the library—not her guest.
“It’s Mrs. Fairbanks,” Anna said, going to Ruth’s side. “I’ve called nine-one-one. They’re sending the chopper to take her to the hospital.”
Carol’s eyes widened. “I’ll alert the family.” She spun on her heel as Anna pulled an afghan from one of the deep leather library chairs and put it over Ruth. She took the older woman’s hand in hers and checked for a pulse. It was weak, the papers in her pocket forgotten in her concern for Ruth.
A moment later Anna heard the elevator, then Jonathan’s distinctive limp as he rushed into the library. “What have you done?” he demanded, shoving Anna out of the way.
“I found her like this,” Anna said, wringing her hands as she looked down at Ruth Fairbanks’s pale face—and thought about the papers now stuffed in her pocket. “I’ve called nine-one-one.”
Pet rushed in, her red hair looking as wild as her eyes as she wrapped a thin robe around her nearly naked body. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked as she stopped to stare down at Jonathan and her mother-in-law.
“How should I know?” Jonathan said.
Anna heard the helicopter, and moments later Carol opened the door to let the paramedics in.
Anna stood back, watching the scene unfold around her, afraid that it would turn out that she was responsible—just as she knew Jonathan suspec
ted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
WHEN NASH’S CALL WAS finally put through to the prison inmate line, he wasn’t surprised that Leon Markowitz sounded like the punk he was.
“I don’t know you,” the convict said. “Why should I talk to you?”
“Because I know you,” Nash said. “I want to know about a car you stole.”
“You got to be kiddin’. You think I remember every car I stole, man?”
“Jack Fairbanks’s black SUV.”
“Jack Fairbanks is dead, so who gives a shit?”
“I do. And so will you if you don’t answer my questions,” Nash said.
Leon laughed. “You think you can make my life here more miserable?”
“As a matter of fact, I know I can. Where did you boost the car?”
Leon sighed. “Ballard, out by the locks.”
Nash frowned. Why had Big Jim reported the car stolen from Shadow Lake? To cover up the truth. “Why that car?” he asked, taking a different tack.
“An expensive black SUV, you jokin’?”
“I know it wasn’t your usual heist,” Nash said.
“Then why you callin’ me and askin’ a bunch a questions?”
“Tell me the deal you made with Jack.”
“I didn’t make no deal with Jack.” Leon chuckled. “I don’t know Jack, you get it?”
“You keep bullshitting me and—”
“Look man, Jack’s dead. I’m doing time. So what the hell, I’ll tell you. I didn’t steal the car. Jack’s brother called me. Before you go askin’, we had mutual friends. Ain’t goin’ there though, so don’t even ask.”
Drug-buying friends. Someone had been supplying Pet for years. Nash had thought it was Jack. Apparently it was his brother.
“He’d heard I did favors for guys who needed their cars lifted. Ya know, can’t make the payments, need to get out from under it. The car disappears.”
“Jack could make his payments. What was his reason?”
“He’d gotten into a little fender bender.”
