Dead Weight

by Ragan, T. R.

  “You knew what Frank was doing and you did nothing to stop him.”

  “I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

  Ruth was crying now and the nurse must have heard her because she walked into the room. “You need to leave,” the nurse told Lizzy. “She needs her rest.”

  Lizzy picked up the picture Ruth had tossed to the ground. “I’m leaving, Ruth, and I won’t be back until you call me and tell me you’re ready to deal with the truth.”

  Ruth’s eyes remained shut. She didn’t move, but her chest still rose and fell with each breath.

  She would call, Lizzy prayed. When Ruth Fullerton was ready, she would call.

  Chapter 32

  Strawberry Fields Forever

  Jessica woke to the sound of a rooster’s crow. She had fallen asleep on a cot with a very thin lumpy mattress. Her back and shoulders, her entire body, in fact, felt as if she’d been camping out on the hard ground for a week.

  Her hands were tied behind her back but she managed to sit up on the edge of the bed, her feet flat against the cold hardwood floor. She could hear voices in the other room. The voices had woken her.

  “If you knew you were being followed, why did you come here? You could have driven to the market down the street, anywhere but here. What were you thinking?”

  “I guess I wasn’t.”

  The last voice was Ellen’s. Jessica recognized her voice immediately.

  “It’s been a long week,” Ellen said.

  Tell me about it, Jessica thought.

  “None of this has been easy on me,” Ellen finished.

  “How do you think Carol feels, putting you through years of being questioned?”

  “Leave her alone, Dean,” another woman’s voice interrupted; a stern, but gentle voice. “The only reason Ellen came on such short notice was because I asked her to. None of this is Ellen’s fault.”

  “Are you saying it’s my fault?” the man asked.

  “I’m not saying anything of the sort. I just don’t know why you had to put a gun to that girl’s head and drag her into this. Like Carol told us over the phone, that girl in the other room works for a private investigator who my mother hired. She’s harmless. You need to let her go.”

  “You think that after twenty years of hiding out, I’m going to let that nosey girl in there ruin everything?”

  “We don’t have a choice, Dean. Do you think that after twenty years of hiding out, I’m going to let you go to jail for kidnapping? What’s the plan? Keep her locked up for twenty years while we continue on our merry way?”

  It was quiet for a moment. Jessica felt the color drain from her face at the thought of being locked in this tiny room for twenty years. She should be grateful they hadn’t discussed murdering her and burying under the fields of strawberries. That would suck.

  “Let her go, Dean. We’ll move. We’ll pay someone to pack up our stuff. We’ll get tickets to the Caribbean, anywhere but here. We’ll start over. We did it before, we can do it again.”

  Jessica stood and went to the window. Carol was alive. But what was Carol so afraid of? What had she done to warrant hiding out for the rest of her life?

  Outside, Jessica could see endless strawberry fields, fruit trees, and newly tilled farmland ready for planting. She turned her back to the window and used her fingers to fiddle with the latch. Her eyes widened in surprise when the latch flipped open.

  Slowly, trying not to make any noise, she pushed the window open, inch by inch. Once she had the window open far enough to fit her body through, she turned around and stuck her head out to see how far she’d have to drop. Not far at all. She needed to get her legs through the window and then jump once her head was clear of the window frame.

  She could do this.

  As she maneuvered her legs, one at a time, it was awkward, especially with her hands tied behind her back. But it worked. She fell to the ground. Soft dirt and dead flowers greeted her backside. She was definitely going to have a few bruises, but a few bruises were better than spending a day, let alone twenty years, in that room.

  Without bothering to look around and see who might be watching, she started running.

  A dog barked in the distance.

  She didn’t bother looking for her car. The odds of the keys being inside were slim. And the man had taken her cell phone last night, so she couldn’t call anyone.

  She ran over clods of dirt, trying not to sprain her ankle in the process.

  Once she reached the dirt road, the rooster crowed again. She was out of breath, but that didn’t stop her from running as fast as her legs would carry her.

  At the end of the driveway she saw a car pass by.

  She glanced over her shoulder, wobbled to her left, but refused to slow down, especially after seeing a truck screech out of the driveway and head her way.

  Her breathing was ragged. She felt as if she was sucking in dust instead of air.

  There were fruit trees to her left and a high fence to her right. She had no choice but to keep running a straight path down the driveway.

  If she could just get to the road, she could stop traffic and get help. As she gained momentum, all she heard was the roar of the engine behind her.

  ***

  Thump, whirr, clink, thump.

  “Great, just great.” Lizzy needed her car to break down about as much as she needed a broken leg. “Damn,” she said as she steered her car to the side of the road.

  She was on a busy road and her car had died. Lovely. The back of her car stuck out just enough to block traffic. Cars honked before they finally got a clue and inched their way around her.

  There was nothing she could do about it. She sat there for a moment, trying to think.

  “It’s okay,” she told her car, patting the console as if it was an animal instead of a vehicle. She loved this car. She and Old Yeller had been through a lot together. But she already knew that Old Yeller’s time was up.

  Lizzy slid to the passenger side and climbed out. She had left the car in neutral and she was trying to push it out of everyone’s way when a woman came running forward and gave her a helping hand. Lizzy didn’t realize who had helped her until the job was done. “Jane?”

  “Hi, Lizzy.”

  “Wow, great timing. Thank you so much for helping me out.”

  “Not a problem. I noticed that you weren’t at the gym this morning.”

  Guilt crept up Lizzy’s neck and into her face. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have called, but I had too many things to do today. The weird part is that I was just headed to the gym. I really need to talk to Melbourne.”

  “He might be gone by the time you get there,” Jane said, gesturing toward Lizzy’s car.

  Lizzy frowned. “You could be right about that.”

  “Why don’t you call a tow truck and we can sit over there and have coffee while you wait.” Jane pointed to a coffee shop across the street.

  “You don’t have to wait with me. I’ll be fine.”

  “No, I’d love to chat for a minute and get to know you. Anthony speaks very highly of you.”

  Lizzy laid a hand on her chest. “Are you sure he’s talking about me?”

  Jane nodded. “He’s impressed with the way you’ve managed to overcome so much hardship in your life. Nothing better than reading about someone who figures out a way to move on with their life after being through so much. You’re a true hero.”

  Lizzy really didn’t know what to say to that. She certainly was no hero. Quite the opposite, in fact. But she was tired, exhausted really, and she could use a coffee with a triple shot of espresso.

  “I hope I’m not over-stepping any boundaries by talking about your past.”

  “No,” Lizzy said, “It’s fine.” She opened the passenger door of her car and looked through the glove box for an emergency roadside number. There it was, right on top where she’d put it last. She made the call and then tossed her cell in her purse. “Ready?”

  Jane found a table outside while L
izzy waited for their coffee orders. Something about Jane showing up at just the right time and then offering to have coffee with her niggled at her, but she decided to let it go.

  Lizzy realized she was becoming paranoid and suspicious. No sleep tended to do that to a person. At least she had someone to keep her company while she waited for the tow truck.

  “So what’s your connection with Anthony, anyhow?” Jane asked.

  Lizzy recalled what Hayley had said about Jane having a crush on Melbourne. She also remembered what Hayley had said about Melbourne feeding his assistant a cheeseburger and fries. Why would he lecture his clients and then turn around and feed the girl French fries?

  “I’m sorry, is that too personal?”

  “Not personal,” Lizzy told her, “just a bit random, I guess. I have no connection with Anthony Melbourne. My sister, like millions of women out there, happens to be a huge fan of his, so I decided to sign us up for a few seminars and a retreat and get some much needed exercise, too.”

  “I didn’t see your sister in San Francisco,” Jane said.

  Was Jane keeping tabs on her? “My sister couldn’t make it, so I decided to check out Melbourne’s seminar for myself.”

  “And you were impressed?”

  “Very,” Lizzy lied.

  “He mentioned that you asked him about Diane Kramer when you were at the Tahoe retreat.”

  “Sounds like the two of you talk a lot,” Lizzy said.

  “I’m his assistant. I need to know what’s going on if I’m going to do the best job possible.”

  “I have two assistants. They have no idea I’m sitting here with a broken down car and I have no idea where they are at this very moment.”

  Jane took a sip of her vanilla latte and then shook her head. “That’s not good business.” She looked at her phone and smiled. “Anthony just sent me a text. He’s meeting with the mayor in twenty minutes.”

  When Jane leaned over to put her phone back into her purse, Lizzy saw two long scratches on the back of Jane’s neck. “Ouch,” Lizzy said, “looks like somebody scratched you. Does that hurt?”

  Jane thought about it for a moment and then smiled. “Oh, those,” she said pointing to her neck. “My niece is the culprit. She’s only a year old and somebody, namely her mother, needs to cut her nails.”

  “I’d say.” Lizzy wondered if Jane was lying. Every moment was more awkward than the last.

  “You know, I really should head off,” Jane said. “But there is one thing I need to get off my chest.”

  Lizzy arched a brow and waited.

  “I know you’re a private investigator.”

  “It’s not a secret,” Lizzy said.

  “Did Andrea hire you to watch Anthony?”

  Caught off guard, Lizzy didn’t quite know what to say, so she remained quiet.

  “You should know that not only did Andrea work out with Anthony Melbourne in the past, she used to work in his office and help him with his paperwork and filing. She’s been infatuated with the man for years.”

  “She’s married with three kids,” Lizzy told her.

  “Aren’t they all?”

  At a loss for words, Lizzy remained silent.

  Jane reapplied her lipstick and Lizzy noticed it was a familiar shade of red. She wanted to ask her if it was Cherry Bomb by CoverGirl, but apparently, their conversation was over because Jane stood and grabbed her things. “Do you need a ride anywhere?”

  “No, that’s okay. You’ve done enough already. I’ll get a ride to the auto shop and figure it out from there.”

  Lizzy stood, too, and offered Jane her hand. “Thanks again. I really appreciate you helping me get my car off the road.”

  Between the coffee and the purse, Jane’s hands were full. She shrugged, smiled and headed off, leaving Lizzy to wonder what the hell was going on.

  Aren’t they all? What did that mean?

  Lizzy thought about running after Jane and asking her a few questions of her own. Instead, she decided to get the car situation taken care of and then pay Andrea a visit.

  Chapter 33

  Home Sweet Home

  Two o’clock in the afternoon. Hayley couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well. It was five in the morning by the time she’d gotten home last night.

  The first two nights at Lizzy’s place, she’d slept on the couch, but last night she opted for the bedroom Lizzy had set up for her. The room was small and filled with boxes, files mostly. Lizzy had a twin bed set up. The bed was the centerpiece of the room. The headboard had colorful tulips and roses painted on it.

  She didn’t like the idea of getting too comfortable. Neither did she like the idea of mooching off of other people. Cathy had taken her in, and now Lizzy. Hayley needed to find a way to pay rent. She’d spent most of the money she’d made working for Lizzy on sturdy knives and other gadgets. That stuff wasn’t cheap.

  Sitting up, she rubbed the back of her neck as she thought about her mom. The fact that her mom refused to change made her sad, but also cemented her resolve when it came to following through with her plans of revenge.

  Despite the heavy sadness hovering over her, Hayley felt as if she was getting some closure as her big day drew near. As long as Dr. Williams left the syringe at the park as instructed, she would be on schedule to take care of Brian once and for all.

  The thought of ridding the world of that one particular man made her feel oddly refreshed. When it was all said and done, she could possibly end up in jail. She wasn’t going to dress up in wigs and high heels for Brian. What he saw was what he would get.

  Her mom might be sad about Brian’s demise, but not for long. Hayley’s hope was that her mom would become clean after Brian was gone for good. If her mom didn’t have Brian hanging around, keeping her high on drugs and alcohol, she might have a fighting chance. And that’s all that mattered to Hayley.

  Jail wouldn’t be so bad, Hayley figured. It couldn’t be any worse than the time spent at home with Brian and his friends, or the time spent with her grandfather way back when, or the time spent with Spiderman.

  She noticed that Lizzy had hung a new picture on the wall. It dangled slightly to the right. “Home Sweet Home.”

  She smiled.

  There was nothing fake about Lizzy, and yet something about the picture didn’t ring true: not that Lizzy didn’t want it to be true, because she did. And sometimes that’s all that mattered.

  Hayley had told Lizzy she didn’t know what love was, but that wasn’t completely true. She loved her mom. And she loved Lizzy like a sister. She didn’t have any siblings, but she figured the way she felt about Lizzy was probably the same way many siblings felt about one another. Lizzy was a good person. She always put everybody else first. She never thought about her own wants or needs. Even the Jared thing was more about Jared than Lizzy, Hayley figured. Lizzy didn’t want to creep him out with her nightmares and crazy highs and lows. Lizzy was nice, but she was still screwed up. Anybody who knew her well enough could see that.

  Maybe that’s why Hayley liked her so much.

  She glanced at the Home Sweet Home picture again and knew that was definitely why she liked Lizzy: she was one messed up lady who was trying so hard to be normal.

  ***

  It didn’t take Lizzy long to find Andrea Kramer’s address in El Dorado Hills. It was interesting to Lizzy that Andrea didn’t use her married name. The binder that Andrea had given her was chock full of detailed information, on everyone except for Andrea herself.

  The car Lizzy had rented while the auto shop took a look at Old Yeller was nicer than she’d expected or wanted, but it was all they had left: a shiny new 2012 Cadillac CTS with navigation and everything else you could ever want in a car.

  Lizzy drove straight from the rental shop to Andrea Kramer’s house, a massive 10,000 square foot mansion on the top of a hill overlooking Folsom Lake. The driveway was long and visitors were kept at bay with a sturdy gate.

  Leaning out her car window, she
hit the button on the black box, hoping somebody would let her through.

  “Hello?” came a timid voice from the box.

  “Hi, this is Lizzy Gardner. I’m here to talk with Andrea Kramer.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Lizzy was confused by Andrea’s tone of voice. She sounded angry. “You didn’t leave me a telephone number where I could reach you,” Lizzy explained, “but I was able to find your address.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I’m a private investigator, remember? I need to talk to you about your sister.”

  There was a buzzing sound and the gate slowly slid open. Lizzy drove the Cadillac up the driveway lined with tall, well-fertilized palm trees. Fountain. Check. Sprawling green grass and manicured hedges. Check. Pond with expensive fish swimming about. Check. Although she couldn’t see the fish, she had a good imagination.

  She pulled into one of five parking spaces, got out and admired the view before heading for the stairs that led to the front door. As she climbed a ridiculous number of flagstone steps to a humongous front door made from imported rare wood, no doubt, she was surprised to find that she was still able to breathe. The workouts were actually doing some good.

  Andrea greeted her at the door. Lizzy couldn’t help but wonder if the woman slept in her Armani and then lie perfectly still so as not to ruin her perfectly coiffed hair. How did women like Andrea do it—always look so put together? She was lucky if she could get her laundry done.

  “You really shouldn’t be here,” Andrea said, wringing her hands and looking around nervously.

  Lizzy blew out some hot air. Today was another scorcher. “Should I come back later?”

  “No, no. Come inside. My kids are playing across the street. They might see you.”

  Lizzy looked over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t behind her. “Just tell them I’m an old friend stopping by to say hello.” What was the big deal?