“Yes. So sit down and brace yourself. The police will be here soon.”
“The police!”
“Crystal, listen to me. I got a call. Someone told me you were in trouble—deadly trouble. It was a terrible voice, grating, raspy. I couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman. I called the police, but they didn’t sound like they were in any hurry to get here, so I came.”
“You came to help me when you thought there might be a killer here? Laurel, I—”
Lights flashed in the driveway and in a moment someone pounded on the door. Laurel opened it. Williams stood in front of her. “You’ve found the body of Crystal Landis?”
“What?” Crystal cried. “I’m not dead! I’m right here!”
Williams’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Laurel. She gazed back stonily, keeping her voice even. “There is a body on the path between the house and the garage. I assumed it was Crystal. The face is so mutilated I couldn’t tell who it was.”
Williams still looked at her suspiciously, but he told her and Crystal to stay in the house. “I don’t want you messing up evidence if there really is someone there,” he said.
As he walked down the path, Crystal asked in a shaking voice, “Who do you think it is?”
“I don’t know, but she was wearing your plaid coat. I couldn’t tell much about her hair.”
“Was it dark?”
“No. More like yours.” Laurel looked at the cashmere coat on the couch. “Does that belong to you?”
Crystal reached down and touched the fine cloth. “You think I own a coat this nice?”
“No, I didn’t think so. But it was in here when I arrived, which means the woman took it off and put on your plaid coat.”
“But I’m telling you I locked the door!”
“Well, she got in somehow.” Laurel stared at the coat. “Crys, does Chuck still have a set of keys to this house?”
“What? I don’t know. Maybe. But what does this have to do with Chuck? This isn’t his coat.”
“What kind of car does Joyce drive?”
Crystal frowned. “Joyce? I don’t know. I’ve never been good with makes of cars. It always drove Chuck crazy. It’s white. Something expensive.”
Laurel sat down beside Crystal. “I saw a white Lexus parked by the side of the road when I came here. Add that to a set of keys to this house with a woman who has an expensive coat and hair the color of yours. Who does it sound like?”
“I don’t know, Laurel…it could be—” Crystal broke off. “Oh, my God! Joyce!”
Twenty-one
1
“Crystal, I think we’d better call Monica.”
Crystal blinked at her. “Why? What does this have to do with her?”
“If it is Joyce, you need a lawyer.”
“A lawyer! What do I need a lawyer for? I haven’t done anything!”
“Crystal, who has a better motive for killing Joyce Overton than you?”
Crystal opened her mouth, closed it, then turned so pale Laurel thought she was going to faint. “But we don’t know if it is Joyce—”
“I think it is and if I’m right…Crystal, I’m calling Monica. If Williams gets back here before Monica does, you don’t say one word to him, do you hear me? Not one word.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” Crystal repeated in a wispy voice.
“Not a word and I mean it!”
Laurel hated to lash out at Crystal, but she thought it was the only way to get through to her. She didn’t seem to realize the seriousness of the situation. She looked like she hardly knew where she was.
Luckily Monica was in her room. “Monica, it’s Laurel. I need for you to get to Crystal’s house as soon as possible.”
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s a dead woman on Crystal’s lawn and I think it’s Joyce Overton.”
“Who?”
“Chuck’s girlfriend.”
“Wow. You really know how to get my attention.”
“Now is not the time for your deadpan humor. Get over here. Crystal needs some legal advice in a hurry.”
“Be right there,” Monica said and hung up. Thank God I didn’t have to argue with her, Laurel thought as she sat down beside a shaking Crystal. Williams would be back any moment and in fifteen minutes heaven knew how many policemen would be here, badgering Crystal, who had no more idea how to handle a situation like this than a child would.
When she looked away from the phone, Crystal sat huddled on the couch. Laurel went to her. “Monica is on her way.”
“I need a drink.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. When the police question you, you don’t want to be breathing alcohol fumes all over them.”
“I thought you told me not to say anything to them.”
“Not until Monica gets here. She’ll tell you which questions to answer.”
Crystal gnawed on a thumbnail. “Maybe it isn’t Joyce.”
“Maybe not. Still, there will be questions.”
“If it is Joyce, Chuck will think I killed her out of jealousy.”
“What Chuck Landis thinks is the least of your worries, Crys. Forget about Chuck.”
Williams walked inside without knocking. “I’ve already radioed for help,” he said, his young face taut. He’s scared, Laurel thought. He’s never been faced with something this serious and it’s taken the swagger right out of him. “I found the body. Any idea who it might be?”
“No,” Laurel said.
“Joyce Overton,” Crystal blurted at the same instant. Laurel glared at her.
Williams looked at Crystal and asked, “Who is Joyce Overton and why do you think it’s her?”
Crystal looked fearfully at Laurel and huddled even deeper into herself. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what?” Williams barked. “Who Joyce Overton is or why you think it’s her?”
“I’m not going to talk to you.”
Williams assumed his tough-cop face. “Lady, you have to talk to me!”
“Not without the presence of her lawyer,” Laurel said.
“Her lawyer! What do you have to hide, Mrs. Landis?”
“Nothing,” Crystal mumbled.
“Then what’s all this about not talking to me without a lawyer? It makes you sound guilty as hell!”
Crystal cringed. “Stop trying to intimidate her,” Laurel said in a firm voice. Inside she felt like Jell-O. She was only repeating lines she’d heard on television. “By law she doesn’t have to talk to you without an attorney present.” Please let Monica get here soon, she prayed. I might only be making things worse.
More lights flashed in the driveway. Unfortunately they were colored lights. Police cars, not Monica. Williams opened the door and Laurel heard men’s voices. Kurt’s? No. Soon it seemed as if there were lights everywhere, men in uniform tramping around, phone calls. At last Laurel heard Monica’s husky voice. “I am Mrs. Landis’s attorney. Either you let me in or I’ll have a talk with your superior you’ll regret for the rest of your career!”
In a moment she strode into the living room wearing tight black velvet slacks, a gold silk blouse, and a black leather jacket. Her hair fell over her shoulders and large hoop earrings dangled beneath. She looked beautiful. She also looked daunting. Laurel noted with amusement that some of the deputies stood back, obviously slightly awed as she swept past them.
She turned and looked at them sternly. “I want you to be very careful with the crime scene.”
“We don’t take orders from you,” Williams ventured. “Besides, we know what we’re doing.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do,” Monica said deprecatingly. “I want you to look for a heart and a six drawn in blood near or on the body. Also look for a tarot card. And I think it would be a good idea for you to get Kurt Rider out here. He worked on the Denise Price scene and he does know what he’s doing. Now, I need to speak with my client alone.”
Some of the deputies gaped at her. They weren’t as accustomed a
s big city cops to an aggressive female attorney, especially one who looked more like a fashion model or movie star than many of the local female lawyers with their conservative suits and hairstyles.
“When did you become such a fan of Kurt’s?” Laurel muttered close to Monica’s ear.
Monica winked at her. “He’ll tell you what they find. These other hotshots won’t.” She raised her voice. “Are you all right, Crystal?”
“No. There’s a dead person in my yard.”
“Well, that does put a dent in the evening, doesn’t it?”
Crystal looked at her, aghast. “How can you joke about this?”
“I can joke about anything.” Monica sat down close to Crystal on the couch and spoke softly. “What have you told the police?”
“Only that I think the body might be Joyce Overton. Actually it was Laurel’s idea. I haven’t even seen the body.”
Monica looked at Laurel. “A white Lexus like Joyce’s is parked beside the main road before you turn into Crystal’s lane,” Laurel said.
Monica nodded. “I saw it.”
“Also, Crystal was next door baby-sitting. The door was locked, but the woman had been in here. That’s her coat. I think she probably used Chuck’s keys to the house.”
“Good guess. But why would she leave her coat in here? It’s freezing.”
“She’s wearing Crystal’s coat. The light is on in the spare garage. I think she was on her way there. Maybe she thought her coat was too nice to wear in this weather.”
“Crystal, why is the garage light on?” Monica asked.
“I’ve been so scared I leave lights on all over the place at night. Lights were on in the house and in the garage. I didn’t want someone hiding out there.”
“Did you ask Laurel to come here? Why was she the one to see the body?”
Laurel told her about the call she’d received, reporting it to the police, then coming here herself. “When I didn’t find Crystal in the house, I thought she was in the garage because of the fight. I literally fell over the body.”
Monica looked back at Crystal. “Can you prove you were next door baby-sitting?”
“Of course. The Grants called me. It was an emergency, you see.”
“Okay, let’s talk to the cops,” Monica said. “Don’t be scared, Crystal, but if I tell you not to answer a question, don’t. Got it?”
Crystal nodded and the interrogation began. Meanwhile a deputy found a black purse that had slipped under the couch. He opened the billfold and boomed, “Driver’s license says Joyce Overton.”
Laurel closed her eyes. So she’d been right. When she opened them, she saw Crystal shivering, her face white to the lips. Then Crystal’s gaze flew to the doorway.
Chuck Landis stood there, his own face red with fury, two deputies holding him back as he shouted, “Crystal, you bitch, what in the name of God have you done?”
2
Laurel didn’t know what would have happened if Kurt hadn’t arrived at that moment. He was Chuck’s best friend, and after jerking him outside for a severe talking-to, he brought him back into the house and nearly pushed him into a chair. “Now you sit there and stop acting like a crazy person long enough for us to ask a few questions,” Kurt told him. “Otherwise I’m hauling you in for attempted assault.”
“I never touched her,” Chuck muttered.
“But you touched a few people outside. I’m serious, Chuck. I’ll do it and you know it.”
Chuck looked at him sulkily, then sat glaring at Crystal, who hung her head. “Where’s the sheriff?” Chuck asked.
“Handling the press.”
“Already?” Laurel asked. “Do they have ESP?”
“No, police scanners,” Kurt said. He pinned Chuck with his piercing gaze. “Okay, did you know Joyce was coming out here?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“She left two hours ago and didn’t say where she was going. It got to be way past Molly’s bedtime and Joyce wasn’t back. She’s always there to tuck in Molly. Then I discovered my keys to this house were missing. I just put two and two together.”
“How did you know she was dead?”
Chuck looked at Kurt incredulously. “Hell, there are police cars all over the place. I was trying to come in and one of your guys told me a woman had been murdered.”
“And you didn’t assume it was Crystal?”
“Just as I got to the door I heard someone yelling out that the driver’s license said Joyce Overton. Then I saw Crystal sitting here.”
“Why would Joyce have come here?”
“Probably to talk to Crystal about the divorce. Crystal wouldn’t sign the divorce papers. Joyce’s husband called her this morning threatening to sue for full custody of the children because she was living with me. She’s been a wreck all day.” He glowered at Crystal. “Why couldn’t you just sign the damned papers? Why did you have to murder her?”
Crystal’s eyes filled with tears. “Chuck, I didn’t. I wasn’t even home. Laurel, tell him about the call.”
“What call?” Chuck demanded.
“Someone called me to say that Crystal was in trouble. Deadly trouble, they said. I came here. I found the body.”
Kurt looked at her. “Who called?”
“I have no idea. The voice was so gravelly I couldn’t even tell you if it was a man or a woman.”
“What time?”
“Around seven, maybe a little before. The evening news was on.”
Kurt stared deeply into her eyes. I have more to tell you, she screamed inwardly, wanting him to know about Genevra Howard and that she thought this whole thing had something to do with the Six of Hearts murders. Miraculously, he seemed to get her message. He rose abruptly. l; Chuck, you sit still. Williams, you watch him. I’m going outside for a few minutes.”
Williams obviously didn’t like being told what to do, but he said nothing. Laurel had a feeling Kurt intimidated him. Under these circumstances, she had to admit the warm, friendly Kurt she’d always known did seem intimidating.
Williams continued to question Crystal. With her safely in Monica’s hands, Laurel unobtrusively watched Chuck. He shifted restlessly in his chair. His gaze went from deputy to deputy and there was something besides grief in it. Anxiety? Apprehension? What would he have to fear from the police if they thought Crystal killed Joyce?
Joyce’s car was not in the driveway but Crystal’s was. Joyce was wearing Crystal’s coat. They were about the same height with the same hair color. It was a bad night—visibility was terrible in the snow. Chuck said Joyce’s husband had called this morning threatening to sue for custody of the children. “Why couldn’t you just sign the damned divorce papers?” he’d asked Crystal. Laurel barely knew Joyce, but she’d seen the woman with her children a couple of times. It was clear she adored them. No matter how young and sexy Chuck Landis was, Laurel didn’t believe Joyce would give up her children for him. And if she wouldn’t, what would that mean for Chuck? The end of a very good life.
It had been so long since she and Faith were close to Chuck that Laurel felt as if she no longer knew him. He certainly wasn’t the daredevil kid with the gap-toothed smile and eyes full of anticipation of what wonderful things life had in store for him. Years of failure and disappointment must have taken their toll. Was it conceivable that in his desperation to hang on to Joyce, his last hope, he resorted to murder? Could he have killed Joyce thinking she was Crystal? Did this really have nothing to do with the murders of Angie and Denise?
Chuck turned his head and gazed at her, his brilliant blue eyes looking as if he could read her thoughts. She felt color flood her cheeks. She shifted her own gaze, feeling guilty but knowing she would have to tell Kurt her suspicions.
Kurt came back into the house. She wanted to jump up, drag him into a bedroom, and tell him she thought Chuck had killed Joyce by mistake. Then Kurt looked at her, his face grim, the muscle beside his jaw twitching. He gave her a brief nod and inst
antly she knew.
They’d found the six, the heart, and the tarot card.
3
Kurt followed Laurel home at ten-thirty. Things were still a mess at Crystal’s, but Monica said she would stay with her and Kurt had done all he could for the moment. He walked her to the door and she was surprised when he accepted her invitation to come in.
“Want a beer?” she asked.
“I’d better not. I’ll be working all night on this. We’ve got to get the alibis.”
“Crystal’s and Chuck’s.”
“Yes, unfortunately.” He sat down heavily, looking tired enough to drop.
“Where were the six and the heart?”
Kurt glanced away, rubbing a finger over an eyebrow. “Carved on her abdomen.”
Laurel gasped. “Carved! The murderer hasn’t done that before.”
“Maybe we’re not dealing with the same murderer.”
“A copycat?”
“Someone who wanted to be rid of Joyce and decided to make it look like the Denise Price murder.”
“But there was nothing in the papers about the six or the heart on Denise.”
“You told Crystal about it, didn’t you, Laurel?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “How could I not when I thought she might be a potential victim?”
“I understand. That’s why I told you about it.”
“And Crystal could have told Chuck.” Kurt nodded. “It makes things complicated. But Kurt, Joyce wasn’t one of the Six of Hearts.”
“But she was someone Crystal would have been glad to see dead.”
“Well, out of the picture,” Laurel said. “But don’t forget Joyce’s car was out of sight, she came out of Crystal’s house wearing her coat, her hair is almost the same color—”
“I know all that, Laurel. It’s very possible the killer mistook Joyce for Crystal. In fact, that’s easier for me to believe than that Crystal lured Joyce out there, got Joyce to put on her coat, then took her outside and beat her to death.”
“That is ludicrous. So you think it might have been Chuck?”
“It’s whoever killed Angie and Denise.”
“You don’t think that could be Chuck?”
“No.” He closed his eyes. “God, I don’t know. Maybe, although I don’t know why the hell Chuck would want to kill Angie or Denise.”
In the Event of My Death Page 26
