by Cassie Page
Olivia sat bolt upright, too fast it turned out. “Ouch,” she moaned, holding her head and then her side.
Matt eased her back onto her pillows. “Olivia, I insist. You have to rest. We’ll leave now.”
She grabbed his hand. “No, Matt. Things are starting to fall into place. It’s Hamish.”
“What do you mean?”
“Alistair is connected to Hamish somehow. Hamish uses that tea in his pigment for Cerulean Blue Sky, a Venetian plaster finish. He mentioned it in the Architectural Digest article. It’s part of his secret formula to get that distinctive color. I’ve never heard of anyone using that particular tea in paint. Hamish has the painting; Ruth Marsh has Sutcliffe’s books and copies of his work. Pierre thinks Hamish’s painting is a fake. Hamish knows Alistair and no doubt Ruth. They are definitely part of the art scam, but how are they connected to Jed’s murderer and what happened to Ruth?”
Finally, she collapsed on her pillows, holding her head again.
Charles broke in. “Listen, doll, you just had surgery. We’re gonna scram. No argument, you hear?”
This time she didn’t put up a fight, but pushed the button again on her morphine drip.
12:4
“What are you doing here,” Olivia said feigning anger as Matt led her friends into her room the next morning. “You’re supposed to be catching a killer.”
Matt said, “I think the medicine is working. You’re getting back to your old self.”
He turned to the entourage behind him, Charles, Tuesday, Cody and now Carrie, too. They fought over which of them would escort Olivia home, and Matt just said, “Oh, come on,” to the whole gang. They found Olivia with a mild concussion, bandaged wounds and a hefty supply of pain pills.
Matt helped her into the wheelchair and led the crew to the elevator. Charles’ 1932 Rolls Royce was waiting out front, as was an unmarked car with two armed security guards the firm was sending free of charge, partial payment for allowing the attacker to slip by them and get to Olivia and Pete.
In the elevator, Matt filled them in on developments.
“Thanks to you and Tuesday putting all the pieces together last night, we got a warrant and searched Alistair’s room at the bed and breakfast. We found a veritable treasure trove of evidence pinning him to the murder.”
Tuesday clapped her hands she was so excited. “More, more. Please sir, more.”
“How about a pair of dress boots covered with mud that are a close match to the prints at the site where we think he killed Jed?”
Olivia turned and smiled up at Matt. “I’ll take that for starters.”
“However, if the boots were our only evidence, we’d have nothing. The prints aren’t well defined, as I told you. He could have gotten mud on his boots anywhere near the woods. He had legitimate access to the site. But every bit helps us build a case.”
They reached the lobby and Matt steered Olivia’s wheelchair to a waiting area. Her friends surrounded her, eager for more news before they assisted the patient into the car and caravanned back to her house.
“We found a box of trinkets that looked like little toys. I wouldn’t have thought anything of them, except there were candles in the box. Black candles.”
Olivia almost leapt out of her chair. “You mean Alistair was responsible for scaring me to death with those death images?”
Matt nodded. “If you hadn’t shown me those items, I wouldn’t have recognized them. We’ve been chewing over what they mean, and we’ll have to ask him when we catch him. But they show he knew where you lived and how to get access to your back yard. I asked Tuesday to gather up the candles and other items he left at your house so we can check them for fingerprints. I’m sure he used gloves, but we might get lucky. That could be enough to nail him for the assault.”
Olivia said, “When you catch him? So he’s still at large?”
“I’m afraid so. We have a BOLO out. That means . . .”
Charles translated. “Be on the lookout. I watch NCIS.” He smiled and shrugged. “What can I say? Fageddaboutit.”
They all laughed as Matt continued. “We have Hamish down at the station but he lawyered up right out of the chute. He knows we don’t have Alistair so he’s not talking. I figure he’ll make a deal eventually, but it depends on what Alistair gives us.”
Olivia was pensive, then said, “So what are your chances you’ll catch him?”
“What’s my record?”
“One-hundred percent.”
“So we’ll catch him.”
“What about Scott. Has he shown up?”
Before he could answer, Sonia, juggling a huge bouquet of flowers, came running out of the lobby. “Olivia, Olivia!”
Olivia held up her hand to stop her from leaning down and giving her a hug. “I’m good, but I’m pretty sore.”
Sonia looked at everybody, disbelieving. “I heard you had surgery.”
Matt nodded.
“And they’re sending you home today?”
Tuesday chimed in. “You have to practically give birth to a horse before they give you an overnight stay. She’s lucky she got some TLC for one night.”
Sonia asked Matt, “So did you catch this guy? Is he the one who came after me?”
Matt said, “No and yes, we think it’s the same guy. Alistair Marsh.
“That little creep. You’ll have to fill me in. I wasn’t thinking Alistair. But he’s smart. He’s staying hidden because he knows if he shows his face I’ll turn him into pulled pork myself.”
Matt said, “Want a spot on the force? We could use you.”
After more laughter, she said, “What about Scott? Anybody heard from him?”
Matt said, “His wife filed a missing person’s report. We have a dragnet out for him, too. He might be in on the murders with Alistair. He certainly has a motive. On the other hand, we’re afraid he might be the next target. He could have something on Alistair or be standing in his way somehow. It means I’ve got work to do today. We’re also worried about Victoria Fisher.”
Charles said, “If that punk hurts her or that baby.” He emphasized his threat by raising his fist.
Matt assured him, “We’re doing everything we can to find them. We won’t stop until we do.”
Sonia took that as a cue to say her goodbyes. She air kissed Olivia, careful not to touch her neck or head. “I’m glad I caught up with you and could give you the flowers. Take care. I’ll call you. You need anything, you know how to reach me. Anything, got it? Get well.”
They reached the curb and the Rolls. Tuesday mimed a starlet posing on the running board for a photo op before gleefully climbing in next to the patient.
Matt closed the door and gave the okay to Charles, who drove slowly away. “I’ll call you,” he called out to Olivia.
She gave him a thumbs-up, visible through the small back window.
12:4
Over lunch that Charles ordered from Hugo’s, everybody congregated around the coffee table in the living room. Olivia sat in one of the club chairs with a mountain of pillows behind her. She was still under the spell of pain medication and feeling euphoric after her close call. She had insisted they call Pete and invite him to join them. He was taking a sick day for which, Olivia was sure, he was not getting paid. When she let Charles know that, he said, “No problem. I’ll take care of it.”
Pete’s father delivered him to Olivia’s and the boy was warmly welcomed and given the second club chair. He was also propped up with pillows. Everybody fussed and fawned over him until he threw up his hands. “Chill, guys. I’m okay. But from the grin he couldn’t suppress, Olivia knew he was loving the attention.”
Before long bottles of fizzy water and disposable plates with the remnants of Hugo’s salmon and caviar tacos littered the end tables, coffee table and floor.
Tuesday lifted her glass. “A toast to the guardian angel that looked over our friends Pete and Olivia.”
That started a round of toasts, ending with Carrie announcing
that she had to get back to work.
“I’ll help clean up,” she offered, and began gathering all the paper products and bottles in a sack. “I’ll drop them in the recycling on my way out.”
That prompted hugs and goodbyes, and her last longing look at Cody, who did not take the cue and offer to walk her to her car. Instead, he queried Charles about his antique car collection. While they talked, Charles’ phone rang. He went into the kitchen to take the call. When he rejoined the group he had a huge smile on his face. “Everyone, I got good news. Boy to do I got good news.”
The room fell silent; all eyes were on him.
“That call? It was the girl from the environmental agency.”
Olivia winced, but she wasn’t going to remind Charles in front of his friends that the “girl,” had two Ph.D.’s in environmental science and soil engineering. She just said, “You mean Dr. Lauren.”
“Right. Well she just told me that they finished dating that finger they found? Guess how old it is? Go on, somebody. Guess.”
His face was electric with excitement.
Olivia said, “Five thousand years.”
“How about fifteen?”
He waited for the news to sink in.
Olivia said, “Are you kidding me? It’s fifteen thousand years old? You know what that means?”
“I sure do. The Indians can’t claim it belongs to their tribes because there were no tribes here back then. She said it’s from the Clovis people. Anybody know who they are? Beats me, but it’s not the Miwoks. And what’s more, it definitely came from the pasture way up above our land. We aren’t stepping on anybody’s grandmother.”
Olivia hoped he wouldn’t make that statement to the press.
Carrie hinted one more time for Cody to help her with the cleanup, but it fell on deaf ears. As Carrie headed downstairs with her bag of trash, Olivia resolved on the spot to introduce her to Vittorio. They were a better match anyway. They would make the perfect couple. Unlike Cody, she was sure the electrician would dote on Carrie, value her for the prize she was.
Tuesday spotted a dirty paper plate that Carrie had missed and ran down the stairs after her. When Carrie came upstairs again, she walked over to Olivia and whispered in her ear
Olivia did a double take. “No!”
“Yes. I heard it. Like I’ve been hearing it every night this week. Your tenant has a cat! I could hear it howling. Her window is open, the one near the trash cans.”
Olivia slumped down. “I’ll call her after everyone leaves. The lease specifically prohibits animals.”
Chapter Thirteen: A Visit To Venus
13:1
After everyone left, Olivia crashed from a combination of exhaustion from the trauma, the effects of anesthesia and surgery, pain pills and too much exertion at her homecoming party. It was after six in the evening when she woke, stiff, sore and feeling a letdown after being the center of attention for twenty-four hours.
Tuesday played nurse, refusing to let Olivia help with a simple meal she put together from leftovers and some eggs and goat cheese that she whipped into an omelet. Olivia supervised from her seat at the counter.
Over dinner they were both eager to get to the main order of business: Where was Alistair?
They pored over every possibility, from his having fled the country to returning to New York and giving Pierre some cockamamie story that would get him back in his good graces.
After dinner, Tuesday opened her playlists on her iPad and clicked on Chopin etudes. They settled back into Olivia’s down cushions in the living room and let the soothing melodies cleanse their spirits of the ordeal of the past twenty-four hours. Then Tuesday voiced what all of Olivia’s friends had been thinking, but no one wanted to acknowledge.
“You had a very close call, honey bunch.”
Olivia nodded absently, lost in the music. She remained silent for a few bars longer, grateful for the soft light in the room and the company of her dearest friend, to whom she could say anything. She moved the wrong way and the wound in her side pinched, then calmed down when she squirmed two inches to the right. Then she described her night in the hospital.
“I woke up about two-thirty. The light in the room was weird. It was lights out but the machines I was hooked up to were glowing and I could see the nurses’ desk. Everybody looked like they had flashlights under their chin. I was scared at first, not sure where I was. I felt drugged and dopey. Slowly, everything came back to me, or a lot of it. I remember stepping outside looking for Pete, then I saw him lying on the ground, blood everywhere, it was awful. I panicked. Then all of a sudden I was hit from behind. I must have heard something and turned, so instead of a direct hit to my skull, the bat or whatever he had glanced off my ear and my neck, but hard enough so that it knocked me down. The blow stunned me, but I was conscious, terrified. I waited for what he was going to do next. I could hear him raise his arms; he was making a sound, like he was really angry. Then he seemed to stumble, like maybe he was changing his mind. But he hit me again on my side. I thought I’d die from the pain. I got really mad and wanted to get up and hit him, then I blacked out. Isn’t that an odd place to hit someone when they’re down? On the side? It was like a golf shot. Why not my head?”
Tuesday offered, “Something or someone stopped him.”
“Yeah, but what? You guys said there were no signs of anyone else in the yard and he didn’t run down the driveway or the security guy would have seen him, so he must have crawled through that hole in the fence and disappeared. I’m glad he didn’t do me in, but I don’t understand why he left the job half done. Why didn’t he finish me off?”
“Maybe he heard me coming down and calling for you. But you would have heard me, right? The door was still open. Who knows?”
Olivia raised her glass of mineral water. “Here’s to whoever or whatever stopped him.”
Tuesday said, “By the way, I hope you’re feeling safe tonight. You know there are four guys guarding the house. One on each of the north, south, east and west corners of the lot. Matt said it was overkill, but Charles insisted. So if he comes back to finish the job it will be a different story.”
“He. Who he? Alistair? I guess he’s big enough to take me out, but in my mind he’s a pipsqueak. An annoying little pest. But why does it matter to him to have the project go forward? That has to be the reason for all of this.”
“Do you think Scott could be in on it with him? Could they have run off together?”
Olivia turned pensive. “No, I don’t think Alistair is finished. When I heard him raise that bat I heard rage in the way he breathed, the sound he made when he hit me. He’s got a bee up his nose and he’s not going to stop until he takes care of whoever is standing in his way. I know that much about him. He may be a pest, a dangerous one, but he’s also a persistent little pest. And I think I know where he’s going to strike next.”
She told Tuesday her theory, then a plan began to form.
13:2
Tuesday said, “Absolutely not. If Matt or Charles or your doctors knew you were even contemplating such a thing they’d lock you up. And I’d throw away the key.”
“Tuesday, it’s the only way we’ll catch him.” She added, “In the act,” for emphasis. “Then we’ll have all the evidence we need. But we have to do it now, before he attacks and disappears again. Next time someone else might get killed.”
“No, Olivia. I won’t help you. Call Matt and tell him what you’re thinking. He’s the pro. Let him go after him. He’s got helpers. Big boys with guns. They’ll take him down.”
Olivia was determined. She unfolded her legs and eased herself out of her chair. “No, Tuesday, this one is mine. He scared me half to death with those candles and things. Then he hurt me, put me in the hospital.”
She pointed to the wound on her side. “If this leaves a scar he’s ruined my bikini look.”
Tuesday didn’t laugh.
“I’m sorry, Tuesday, but this is personal. I want this. I want him. My plan w
ill work. Give me a minute while I change into sweats and get a few things together.”
Tuesday watched Olivia, staying put. She had one more argument. ”You’re forgetting something. What about your bodyguards outside? Do you think they will let you get away with this?”
Olivia dismissed them with a wave of her hand. “I’m not under house arrest. They can’t stop me from going anyplace. Let one of them follow us. I’ll try to ditch them, and if I don’t they’ll be our backup. Only they won’t know it.”
Ten minutes later they were in the truck, Tuesday driving, Olivia navigating and stowing her gear under her seat. She had told the guard who questioned her that they were going out for some air.
“You don’t have to follow us, we’re not going far.”
The guy would have made a linebacker look petite, but he had a sweet smile and easy nature. “Oh sure,” he grinned, towering over Tuesday and Olivia. “After last night’s escapade, I can see that happening. Not!”
“Okay,” Olivia said, conspicuously handing the truck keys to Tuesday, “but if we get separated, just come back here. We won’t be more than half an hour. I’ve had a rough day and I’m going to need my beauty sleep.”
They pulled out of the driveway and headed for Darling Boulevard and parts north. Olivia gave a fist pump. “Woot, woot, girlfriend. Darling Valley Crimebusters on the move.”
It was eight o’clock with a half moon in a deep navy sky blanketing the hills, the glow from the Bay Area’s lights obliterating the stars. Traffic hummed on Darling Boulevard; Tuesday and the guard drove in tandem until the second stop light. Tuesday made it through, he didn’t.
Olivia pointed to the next corner. “Quick, Tuesday, turn right here and then take a hard right into Paymoor’s parking lot.”
Olivia’s truck got swallowed up by the usual crush of shoppers jockeying for parking spots so they could run in and grab Paymoor’s famous takeout for a quick dinner.
